Page 87 of Revenge & Ruin

And I have a gun. And three more rounds in this clip.

Bang.

Another body drops just as one comes hurling into me. I can feel myself grunting on impact—this body is larger than the others.

But he’s gone low, trying to shake my balance by wrapping his arms around my waist, which leaves his back exposed.

He’s expecting resistance, so instead, I move with him a few steps, buying myself some time to bring my elbow up and slam it into the back of his neck.

He stumbles, and I step out of his grasp just in time to see another body approaching.

Bang.

It drops, and the bottle he was holding in his hand smashes to the floor.

The one behind me lunges again, but I counter with a blow to the side of his face. He reels back, disoriented, and I use the opening to tackle him to the floor. Gun to his temple.

Bang.

Something grabs me from behind, dragging me to my feet again. They lock my arms behind my back as another body hurls a blow straight to my face. I taste the blood in my mouth, though the sting never really registers.

I back up sharply, crashing the person behind me into the side of a booth, and kick my attacker in the groin. When he bends down instinctively, the second kick hits his skull. He drops. Alive or dead, I don’t really care.

I’m still restrained, and there are two other attackers making their approach.

But Isabella is still laughing, and that’s all I need to keep going.

The man behind me wraps an arm around my neck, which is a terrible mistake, really. Firstly, because the restraints on my arms lessen enough to wiggle free, but also because his arm is now in biting range.

If he screams, I don’t hear it. But there’s a tearing feeling as the skin beneath my teeth begins to give, and his arm retreats.

I have enough time to spit out his blood before the next attacker reaches me, shoving me into a table.

With one hand, I manage to keep him at bay as my other reaches for a bottle. Smashing it over his head does very little to deter his vengeance on me. But stabbing the shattered glass into his neck works better.

I kick the spluttering body off me to find the final body crouched over the one cradling his torn-up arm.

I spit more blood from my mouth as I watch them carefully. They’re not attacking anymore. But the quiet hasn’t subsided. There’s still a threat then.

And they should pay for this.

I take a step closer, but they back up. The one cradling his arm drags the other by his sleeve to the door. It’s not a satisfying ending, but that doesn’t matter.

Because Isabella has stopped laughing.

Dread pools in my stomach as I turn toward them.

Luis.

He’s straddling her. His hands are over her neck and he’s grinning like a madman, despite the fact one of his eyes is…is…well, it’s gone. All that remains is a bloody smear that’s dripping down one side of his face.

But Isabella. Isabella.

My Isabella.

Hishands.

He’s going to lose those hands.

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