Page 75 of Saving Little Clark

Ice flood my veins, a sick, swooping dread.

"The man I killed?" he sneered. "I buried him in a tree stump across the street from me. Nosy fucker, always watching. Saw a little too much, asked a few too many questions, so I hadto handle it. Make sure he couldn't ruin my marriage, spill all my secrets like the rat he is."

It was innocent blood on his hands, and he reveled in it, eyes bright with remembered glee.

"That's what I am. A killer. And now it's your turn, sweetheart. To see me in all my glory. To be released from your pitiful, inconsequential life, at the hands of a god."

It happened fast. One moment he was talking, spewing poison. The next he was on me, knocking the poker away like a children's toy.

I stumbled back. He advanced, the knife held loosely at his side.

"Shh," he crooned, reaching out to cup my cheek. I flinched violently, a wounded noise clawing up my throat. "Hush now, baby. It'll all be over soon. One little slice, and then you'll fly. Fly away into the dark, pretty as a bird."

Tears slipped scalding down my face, chest heaving with silent sobs. This was it. This was how it ended, broken and bloody on the playroom floor. Surrounded by the remnants of a life half-lived, happiness ripped away before I could even truly hold it.

I closed my eyes. Turned my face into Rexy’s fur. Breathed in the lingering scent of Daddy's cologne, faded but still achingly familiar. The stuffie was Daddy’s gift to me.

And then, I braced for the killing blow. For the shocking chill of the blade, the rush and roar of blood.

I could only hope it would be quick. Hope he kept his word, made it swift and merciful. A single slice, and then nothing. Oblivion, deep and dark.

I'm sorry, Daddy. Sorry I couldn't be stronger, fight harder. Sorry I didn't say it enough, how much I love you and-

But then, I heard it. A voice, achingly familiar even raised in fury. It was Alex. Barreling through the open door like an avenging angel, a war cry tearing from his lips.

"Get the fuck away from him, you psycho!"

And then, Alex flew forward, a blur of wild rage and bared teeth. Threw himself bodily at Sterling with a wordless roar, knocking him back and away from me.

They hit the ground in a graceless tangle, grappling and snarling like wild dogs. The knife skittered away, lost beneath the flurry of limbs and biting, tearing hands.

I could only stare, frozen. It couldn't be real. Alex, here, ripping Sterling off me like something out of a comic book. An eleventh-hour salvation, when I'd already resigned myself to the dark.

But it was. He was, solid and snarling and saving my goddamn life.

As if summoned by the thought, two more figures came barreling through the door. Daddy and Uncle Will.

They wasted no time joining the fray, falling on Sterling like a pair of wolves on a downed stag. Tearing and pummeling, voices raised in fury.

I watched them fight. Distantly, I registered the TV still blaring downstairs. The sound muffled and barely audible over the sick thud of fists on flesh. The grunts and bitten off curses, the scuffle and skid of struggling bodies.

It must’ve covered their approach. Masked the pounding of feet on stairs.

Daddy had promised me, hand to his heart. Sworn he'd burn the world to keep me safe, raze cities to the ground to bring me home.

And Alex. He'd dived headfirst into danger for me, mouth quirked and eyes blazing. The devil himself couldn't have stopped him, not with those he loved on the line.

And suddenly, like clouds parting to reveal the sun, anger kindled to life in my belly. A spark, catching and blooming into an inferno. How dare Sterling try to take this from me, to rip away everything I'd bled and broken to find.

Jaw clenching, I pushed to my feet. Dragged air into my aching lungs and stood, sore but steady. Just in time to see Sterling break free of the melee. To lunge for me, wild-eyed and bloody-faced.

He crashed into me with a wordless snarl, fingers scrabbling at my throat. I choked, pain exploding through my windpipe as he dug in, manic with desperation.

But then, Alex was there. Descending on Sterling like the wrath of god, a barrage of knees and knuckles and snapping teeth.

"That's for hurting my bestie, you fuck!" he snarled, punctuating each word with a blow. "That's for laying a hand on him, filling his head with poison and shit!"

Sterling yelped as Alex wildly pulled at his hair. He tried to squirm away, to shield his head from the onslaught. But Alex was relentless, a tidal wave of righteous fury.

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