Page 101 of Vengeful Rotten Casualties

A haze descends over me. The world—as dark as it is in front of my eyes—underwater fades. I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to sob to the world and ask why. Why him? Why me? Why did he do this?

There’s no answer. Only the ever increasing darkness that invades. It pushes against my mind, making my limbs slow and weaken. My lashes flutter and my body stops twisting. It feels almost peaceful just floating here in the water. Luc continues to struggle, his fingers tearing and ripping at the weeds around my legs.

I’m tired.

Tired of fighting.

Tired of remembering.

Tired of living.

I hope he leaves soon, I think. I hope he realizes how useless it is to try and save me. Because I was never meant to be saved.

But him, he was the most beautiful thing in the world to me. He deserves it all. He deserves to live and I hope he figures that out before it’s too late.

I wanted to die alone. I wanted to leave in peace. Not like this. Not with him wrapping his arms around me and fighting to keep me here. Still, as I linger on the precipice of life and death, my lungs giving up, my mind fading into the oblivion I always expected, it’s almost nice too. Dying in his arms.

As the world closes in and the water grows colder against my already cold skin, one last thought pervades my mind.

Have I always been this greedy and cruel?

45

LUC

“You fucking bitch.”My words are vile. Little daggers that explode from me and all I want to do is stab her with them. How fuckingdareshe.

Of all the fucking things I never expected Micki to do … but to kill herself? Fuckingkillherself?

Rage, pain, and fear radiate off of me, heating my blood despite the icy cold temperature of the water. I can practically feel the steam leaving my clammy skin as I heft Micki’s unconscious body up onto the steep shoreline of the ravine the two of us just went rocketing over. The tape on my side is peeling. As I heave her onto the ground, I reach down, lifting my shirt, and take the loose end, flapping against my skin, and rip it clean off with a grunt. It probably should hurt more than it does, but I’m so fucking cold and wet that I hardly feel it. My shirt drops back into place, molding to my frame as water sluices over my muscles.

Stupid. Stubborn. Bullheaded.Bitch.

The fact that we’re not dead yet is a goddamned miracle, but maybe God saved her just so I could kill her myself because there’s no doubt that I want to. The aching wound in my side throbs and my fingers are covered in slices and cuts, my stitches ripped open. I know after everything my body’s endured over the last forty-eight hours that I’m just on the verge of collapse, but I can’t let myself reach that point—not until after I deal with her.

Whatever weeds had wrapped around Micki’s ankles slither after her as I lift her back up and drag her further up the incline. They had been impossible to untangle beneath the surface of the water, ripping into my palms as I yanked them out by their roots. Even now, they’re still half wrapped around her lower body, the wicked strands at the end turning to long cruel fingers in the darkness. All the pieces that I’d ripped off myself just to get her here stream up the incline behind us.

I drop down over Micki’s prone body and growl. “You arenotdoing this to me.” There’s no response from her.

With my heartbeat pounding in my ears, I go to my knees and tip her chin up, my limbs shaking from the rage and the cold. My shirt sticks to me like a second skin, scratching along my muscles as they lock up, shooting long racing strips of pain up and down my body. The cold of the water is fading and all the feeling is coming back to my limbs.Fuck, it hurts.

I ignore it all in favor of the girl beneath me.

Clasping my hands together, I press them down over her chest, between her breasts, and start pumping.One. Two. Three.Each push is met with harsh breaths out of my mouth. I bend down, settling my lips over hers as I blow air into her lungs.One. Two. Three.Again. Her skin is cold against my fingertips. Her lips are turning blue, and her cheeks are drained of all color.

“Don’t youfuckingdo this to me.” My breathing comes faster and faster, uncontrolled and panicked. This can’t be happening. Yet, it is. It’s right here. Her body, growing colder by the second as panic sets into my mind. I’m scrambling. Terrified. Trying to figure out what to do. How to keep her alive. How to bring her back. I can’t lose her. Not now. Not after all we’ve been through.How could she do this to me? How the absolutefuckcould she?

And just like that, the anger spirals out of control. I lift a fist and bring it down hard on her chest, right between her breasts. “Fucking breathe, goddamn it!” I half scream, half beg.

Water spurts up and out of her mouth. Her eyes slam open and she rolls automatically, spitting up more and more of the river than I ever thought a person could possibly swallow. The grit of sand and dirt and mud cake the both of us and for a split second, relief fills me. The world fades as it slams into me, damn near knocking me onto my ass.

Her eyes are open. Her lungs are working. Micki is still alive.She’s still alive.

Then I remember … and I want to fucking kill her all over again.

“L-Luc, w-what—”

Micki turns towards me and I dive for her. I grip her neck in my hand and squeeze, cutting off her words despite the fact that she’s still trying to catch her breath. “How dare you,” I spit the words right in her face. Hovering over her body like an angry avenging demon. No angel here. Not for her or me. “How fucking dare you! How could you?”

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