Page 71 of Beautiful Liar

“But he tried to kill you.”

“I know, but he might not have. You don’t really know.”

“He had a knife to your throat, threatened to kill you. I don’t understand your logic.”

Because I was an idiot. “Luca, please.”

With a growl, he released his hold on me. I grabbed my bag and dropped on my knees beside Ashton. A fucking kid. That’s what Ashton looked like clutching his bleeding neck. So much fucking blood. I felt sick.

“Stupid, asshole,” I whispered.

Not that I exactly knew what the fuck I was doing. I pulled out the first aid kit, snapped on gloves, rummaged through the pack searching for something and finding nothing.

Luca plucked a package from inside the bag and handed it to me.

A clotting sponge. I ripped it open. “Do you know how to save him?” I asked, pressing the sponge against the wound.

“I am medically trained. It is necessary—”

“Can you help him then?” I cut him off. My hand shaking.

Ashton’s face had turned dangerously pale. His hand slipped from his throat and his eyes closed.

“No,” Luca said.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

Fucker.

Blood oozed but wasn’t spurting. Luca had sliced, not stabbed. The clotting sponge worked to ease the flow. “It’s okay,” I lied to Ashton. It wasn’t okay. None of this was okay. “We’re going to get you help. Okay?”

At the sound of my voice, Ashton opened his eyes. But he freaked when he saw Luca beside me. “It’s okay, he’s not going to hurt you.” I secured the sponge again against Ashton’s neck andwrapped it as best I could. “We have to get him to the castle.”

“Not happening. He could get there himself.”

“He lost a lot of blood.”

“And he’ll lose more if he doesn’t find his legs andmove.”

Ashton managed to get to his feet. Holding his throat. I handed him a flashlight. Hunched over, he disappeared into the woods like a ghost.

Luca seemed comfortable in the quiet dark while all my insides were screaming to run. To do something to survive this maniac. I got nothing. If he wanted me dead, running would do nothing but speed up the process. “Do it,” I egged on.

“Do what?”

I swallowed. “Kill me. Hell, you can hide my body in the catacombs. No one will ever find me.”

“Too much trouble.”

“To kill me or to hide my body?”

“Both.”

He was fucking with me. Not making any sense. “So what now? Why wait? You could’ve killed me a dozen times over.”

I couldn’t see his expression under the darkening sky. The paint on his face almost glowed. It made him look like death. “You were not the only loose end.”

---