Page 100 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

Nim

I don’t scream. Ishould...but I can’t. I crouch where I am, stock still, shivering, shit scared. But paralyzed.

Just like Boomer.

I’m nosy as fuck, but even I don’t want to see what’s about to happen. But since my body stopped responding about five seconds ago, I don’t have a choice. Maybe the primitive bit of my brain reckons that if I don’t move,theywon’t see me.

The three hunters move forward in unison but Boomer’s owner stands his ground like he hasn’t noticed the machete. Or maybe he doesn’t care, because in this lethal version of rock-rifle-machete, he probably figures gun trumps knife.

Buthe hasn’t lifted the gun yet. He doesn’t even seem all that concerned. Just…irritated. Why isn’t he running or fighting? If I saw three intimidating-as-fuck guys this sinistercoming up to me, I wouldn’t stop to have a conversation with them.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Boomer’s dad snaps, his black eyes narrowing to slits. A second later, there’s a machete sticking out of his chest. I’ve never heard someonechopping wood, but the sound it makes is exactly what I’d imagine. Except...wetter.

I didn’t even see Vuitton throwing it, that’s how fast he moved.

Boomer yelps as his handler falls to his knees, nerveless fingers dropping the puppy to the ground. A second later Boomer is heading straight for me.

I widen my eyes, shake my head, and mouth “no”, but he’s just a puppy so obviously he’s not great at reading the room—or the clearing—so he doesn’t stop. Boomer runs straight up to me and jumps into my arms.

I grab him. Cuddle him to my chest. And I wait for the three hunters to look over and notice me standing not five yards away. But Boomer’s dad still has some fight left in him, so all eyes are on him. He wrenches the machete from his torso and stares at it like he’s wondering where it came from.

This time it’s not Vuitton who reacts, but the WWE Smackdown Champion.

He rushes forward and snatches the machete from Boomer’s dad. It flies in a smooth arc, gleaming in what light managed to find its way through the thick canopy, and lands with a dampchunkin the man’s shoulder. It was a very precise blow—when Smackdown twists the blade, the hunter’s arm comes off his body. If it wasn’t for a strip of camo fabric, it would be lying in the dead leaves.

“You fucking degenerates,” Boomer’s dad hisses.

Smackdown says nothing as he retreats. What would be the point? Boomer’s dad is obviously toast. Smackdown holds out the blood-streaked machete, but his eyes remain fixed on the one-armed bandit.

Life finally inches back into my limbs, but now I’m too terrified to move in case I draw the killers’ attention.

Vuitton looks back at the sandy-haired guy. “What are you waiting for?” he asks in an eerily calm, emotionless voice. His mouth is a red slash on his porcelain skin. Enchanting, despite what I’ve just witnessed.

For a second, it looks like Quicksilver won’t step forward. But then Smackdown reaches down, grabs his wrist, and puts the machete’s handle in his palm. Quicksilver takes one step, then two. Three. Hesitant at first, and then more assertive. The last step lands like a meteorite crashing to earth.With a wild cry, Quicksilver throws the machete in an arc and wedges it in the man’s skull.

Bile rushes up my throat. I stagger back, so horrified I can barely breathe. My heel catches on a root, and I give the puppy an unintentional squeeze as I fall on my ass.

Boomer lets out a panickedyipwhen we hit the ground.

The three hunters swing around to look at me.

Vuitton steps forward, tilting his head to the side as his dark, almost black eyes latch onto me. “Who the fuck are you?”

Quicksilver has a spray of blood over his face and camo gear, and he’s still holding onto the machete’s handle.There’s a sickening sound as he puts his foot on the dead man’s chest and uses it as leverage to yank the machete out of his skull.

Smackdown watches me with a strange smile on his face. “Guess you can check getting murdered in a forest off your bucket list, baby girl,” he says, sharing an unreadable look with Quicksilver as Vuitton heads toward me.

I seriously underestimated how tall he was. The closer Vuitton comes, the more helooms. He stops a good three or more yards away from me, and then his dark eyes fall to the puppy I’m holding in my arms.I grip Boomer a little tighter, trying to hide him, but as soon as Vuitton snaps his fingers, the puppy wriggles out of my arms. Boomer lets out a string of excited littleyipsas he races over to Vuitton, who snaps hisfingers again. Boomer almost skids how fast he plants his fluffy butt on the ground. His whip-like tail swishes furiously through the dead leaves as he gazes up adoringly at the hunter.

What. The.Fuck?

That’s around about when I decide to run. Because despite what Smackdown might think, getting murdered in a forest isnoton my bucket list.

Chapter 3

Knox

Mason tackles the young girl like a linebacker, and she goes down without a fight. Adrenaline surges through my body but unlike Mason, the gravity of what we’ve done is weighing me down.

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