Page 9 of Ruthless Kings of Obsession

I manage to throw off my current opponent just in time to see one of them pressing something against her neck — a syringe. My eyes widen as it feels as though I’m the one about to take the plunge of that lengthy needle, flashbacks of the various shit I’ve dealt with in the past springing up on me.

"NO!" I snarl, desperate to get to her.

Raw fury explodes through me as I charge forward, taking down two more men with brutal efficiency. Blood sprays from a broken nose and bones crack under my fists.

I watch as she struggled with the restraint of two more men who move swiftly to grab her arms and keep her still, despite her kicking efforts. There’s no chance of her getting out of their hold, which only proves I need to get to her.

Nothing matters except getting to her.

Protecting her.

Saving her…

Then I feel it — a sharp prick in my shoulder that sends tendrils of fear through me as I recognize the chill flow of foreign liquid rushing into my pumping bloodstream. The world tilts slightly, the effects of this toxin already starting their onslaught, but I spin to face my attacker regardless — my movements are already becoming sluggish.

Paralytic.

Fuck.

"You... bastards," I grunt, forcing my legs to keep moving even as numbness spreads through my limbs. I’m moving purely on instinct, taking down as many as I can despite how fast this shit is working on me.

I’d take an army down if I had to, fighting against the ticking clock that’s moving against me. I see despite being injected, my Sweet Dynamite isn’t going down without a fight. She’s already taken out one of the fuckers with an elbow to the nose, leavingher to manage back-kicking the guy on her left in the balls, making him curse in dismay.

She finishes him off with a quick spin and another high kick before she has her knife out and jams it into the man on her right who’s trying to capture her before she can step away.

His outcry is loud, distracting the remaining two in front of me, making it perfect for me to punch them both. The attack knocks one down instantly, while the other is cursing under his breath, struggling to not go down like his comrade.

Executing another punch in his gut finally sends him down, leading to another man fighting to take me out but he goes down under my increasingly uncoordinated assault. I’m doing my best to take down as many as possible, but there seem to be too many.

Neverending.

Eva is still fighting, though her movements are growing weaker. She’s slashing, kicking, plunging Knifey into an artery and eyeballs. Screams and grunts echo around us as bodies further pile at our feet, but we’re both running out of energy as the drug in our veins begins to take its toll.

Our eyes meet across the alley, and the fear I see her tears begin to pool in her eyes. It’s not out of defeat. More so frustration, as she struggles against the power of this concoction that’s forcing us to meet our own demise. It hits me harder than I’d ever expected — piercing me through my soul.

"Sweet... Dynamite," I try to call out, but my tongue feels heavy, just like the rest of my body. I’m realizing whatever is in my body is far different than what I’ve experienced. It makes my body grow intensely hot, while the world is tilting it feels like I’m spinning on a merry-go-round. My knees buckle before I can stop them, sending me crashing to the wet concrete. I can hear how I’m struggling for breath after working myself so hard, but I can’t pull my eyes away from my Queen who’s wavering as she tries to stay upright.

"Run..." I hear the way I beg for her to leave me behind, but there’s that resilience that proves if I’m going down here and now, she’s coming with me.

My stubborn Sweet Hummingbird…

Our Ruthless Queen who won’t dare abandon us even at the peak of turmoil.

Through blurring vision, I see a familiar figure step out of the shadows from behind her: the red hockey jersey is like a splash of blood in the dim light.

Domino.

Eva’s eyes are struggling now. I can see her trying to see me, panic and uncertainty dancing in the pits of her wild widened eyes. She’s struggling to stay on her feet, wavering before fighting to correct herself. She tries to speak but the words are slurred, and I can see how her eyes begin to droop.

When her eyes finally roll back, I expect her knees to buckle seconds after, but she falls backward.

Right into the arms of her perpetrator.

No.

No fucking way.

He can’t have her.

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