Page 34 of Rage

But there’s no reasoning with him now.His face is contorted into a mask of pure hatred, eyes bulging and teeth bared in a feral snarl.He lunges again, and this time I’m not quick enough.The scalpel hits my side, slicing through my scrubs and into the flesh beneath.

White-hot pain explodes across my rib cage.I cry out, stumbling back against the wall.My hand instinctively presses against the wound, and I feel warm blood seeping between my fingers.The coppery scent fills my nostrils, making me dizzy.

Peterson advances, a twisted smile spreading across his face.“Not so high and mighty now, are you, Dr.Beckham?”he sneers, raising the bloodied scalpel.

I brace myself for the next attack, knowing I have nowhere left to run.But just as Peterson draws back his arm to strike, the curtain behind him explodes inward.

A blur of motion fills my vision.Strong hands grab Peterson, yanking him backward with brutal force.The scalpel clatters to the ground as Peterson is slammed against the opposite wall.

Mason stands there, his face a mask of cold wrath.One hand is wrapped around Peterson’s throat, pinning him in place.The other is cocked back, ready to strike.

“You like picking on women, you piece of shit?”Mason says.“Try me on for size.”

Relief floods through me at the sight of Mason, so overwhelming that my knees nearly buckle.But there’s no time for reunions.Peterson, though caught off guard, isn’t done fighting.He claws at Mason’s arm, trying to break free.

Mason’s grip on Peterson’s throat tightens, his eyes blazing.Peterson’s face turns an alarming shade of purple as he gasps for air, clawing desperately at Mason’s iron grip.

“Mason, stop!”I cry out, stumbling forward.As much as I want Peterson to pay, I can’t let Mason kill him.“He’s not worth it!We can’t kill him here.”I whisper the last part so he understands I don’t want him to go to jail.

For a moment, I think he might not listen.The look in his eyes is feral, all traces of the gentle man I know gone.But at the sound of my voice, something shifts.His grip loosens just enough for Peterson to draw in a ragged breath.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t end this piece of shit right now,” he says, not taking his eyes off Peterson’s terrified face.

“Because he’s not worth it,” I repeat, placing a hand on Mason’s arm.“He’s done.Let the police handle him.”

Mason’s jaw clenches, clearly warring with himself.Finally, he releases Peterson, who crumples to the floor, gasping and coughing.

Security hurries in, Konrad on their heels.The room freezes.Peterson, a crumpled heap on the floor.Mason, fists clenched, murder in his eyes.Me, slumped against the wall, blood seeping through my scrubs.

“Took your sweet time,” Mason snarls at the guards.His jaw tics, muscles coiled tight.“Get this piece of shit out of here before I finish what he started.”

The guards haul Peterson up.He doesn’t resist, eyes wild and unfocused.As they drag him past, his gaze locks on mine.A chill runs down my spine.

Konrad’s at my side in an instant.“Christ, Meadow.”His fingers probe the wound, gentle but clinical.“We need to get this stitched up.”

The adrenaline crash hits hard.My legs wobble, threatening to give out.Mason’s there, arm around my waist, solid and warm.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs.The anger gone from his voice, replaced by something soft.Tender.It makes my chest ache.

We shuffle out, Konrad leading the way.The hallway’s a blur of concerned faces and harsh fluorescent lights.My side throbs with each step, a constant reminder of how close I came to?—

No.Don’t think about it.

A flash of movement catches my eye.Mrs.Peterson, awake now.Tears streak down her bruised face as she watches her husband being led away in cuffs.Our eyes meet for a heartbeat.

There’s fear there, yeah.But relief too.And something else.Gratitude, maybe?

Mason’s arm tightens around me.I lean into him, drawing strength from his warmth.It’s over, I tell myself.We’re safe.

But as we round the corner, heading for the exam room, a nagging thought worms its way in.

Is it really over?Or is this just the beginning?

five

Meadow

An Hour Later

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