Page 24 of Promises in the Dark

Another one lunged at me with a knife, but I deflected his attack with a swift parry, countering with a devastating kick to his chest.

The third asshole charged at me with a knife, but I knocked his arm aside and planted a kick square in his chest. He staggered back, choking on the impact. Some other dipshit tried to grab me from behind, but I drove my elbow into his gut, then smashed his face into the pavement.

The first asshole got back up, sword in hand, eyes full of desperation. He swung at me like a man possessed, but he was too slow. I sidestepped his strike, grabbed his arm, and twistedit until he screamed. His own sword was in my hand now, and I didn’t hesitate—one sharp strike, and he hit the ground hard.

But as I caught my breath, I realized something: the fourth fucker was missing.

“Looking for someone?” I heard a chilling voice behind me.

I whipped around, heart pounding as I saw Red. That last bastard had her by the hair, yanking her head back, a knife gleaming at her throat.

Time slowed to a crawl, and all I could see was her face, twisted in fear. That primal, animalistic fury surged up again, burning hotter than before.

He was a dead man walking.

Red’s whimper hit my ears like a fucking dagger, cutting through me deep. My vision blurred in a red haze, and rage burned hotter than hellfire inside me. I didn’t even think. Just took a step forward.

“Let her go,” I growled with a deadly calm, but the fury blazing behind my eyes? That shit wasn’t hiding.

The asshole grinned, yanking Red’s hair harder. She winced, fear filling her eyes.

That was it.

I wasn’t the kind of guy who got sentimental, who let emotions crawl under his skin and fuck with his head. I’d built walls—thick, unbreakable ones—to keep shit like this out. But seeing her like that? Vulnerable, scared? It was like someone had taken a sledgehammer to those walls and cracked them wide open.

This wasn’t me. I didn’t give a shit about people. But here I was, my blood boiling, my muscles tensing like I was ready to rip this fucker apart with my bare hands. And for what? For her.

“Stay right where you are. Or she pays the price.”

“Release her, or I promise you, you won’t live to regret it.”

And I meant it. Every damn word.

He raised the knife to Red’s cheek, the tip brushing her skin. She flinched, another damn whimper slipping out. The sick bastard’s eyes lit up with twisted satisfaction as he dragged the blade down, cutting through the chain and into her flesh. Blood trickled, mixing with the glint of metal.

“I like this,” he sneered with a perverted satisfaction. “It’s a shame I’ll have to take it from you.”

The beast in me screamed for blood. Justice. I stepped forward, my body shaking with controlled rage. Before I could reach her, the fucker’s smirk grew, his eyes flashing with disgusting glee. In a single movement, he swung the knife down, slicing the air with a chilling, precise aim.

That fucking cunt.

Another gasp escaped Red’s lips as the sharp edge of the knife once again made contact with her skin. A fine scratch appeared under her eye, a crimson line staining her porcelain complexion.

“Perhaps I’ll take her eye next,” the cunt taunted.

Looking around me, I saw the other three fanatics still passed out on the ground. I locked eyes with Red, and with a subtle motion of my head, I directed her attention to the pocket where she held the penknife. She blinked in understanding, and slowly obeyed.

“I will tear you apart, piece by piece, until there’s fucking nothing left of you,” I threatened, keeping his focus off Red.

But the fucker only scoffed, lips twisting into that shitty grin again. Without warning, he lunged towards Red, his hand closing around the chain that hung from her neck. The metallic links strained against his grip before finally snapping. Red stumbled backward, trying to maintain her balance.

“Red, now!”

And holy shit—Red didn’t miss a beat. She whipped out the penknife, the blade flashing in the night. In one swift motion, she drove it deep into the fucker’s thigh. His laughter died in his throat, pain and shock warping his face as he looked down at the knife sticking out of his leg. A raw, guttural scream tore from him, his grip on Red’s neck loosening as he collapsed. Blood soaked his clothes, pooling in the shadows around him. His pathetic attempts to stop the bleeding only made it worse.

The sight of him suffering? Fucking glorious. Dark satisfaction washed over me as I watched those four pieces of shit writhing in pain. Part of me relished every second of it.

Behind me, I heard a small whimper. Turning slowly, I narrowed my eyes, full of murderous intent. The kid stood there, trembling, gripping a knife.

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