Page 66 of Forbidden Mischief
Gritting my teeth, I try to get back to my hands and knees, commanding my body to get the fuck up, to fight them. I don’t want to go down like this, I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of winning this easily.
I swear they wait until I’m almost to my feet before someone kicks me again.
I drop hard and they all laugh.
The taunts start then, and the names.
They kick at me, spit on me, call me every derogatory name in the book.
I feel like a pathetic failure. I’m going to die here; I’m not stupid enough to think he’s going to let me live. Not after he thinks I’ve embarrassed him.
He wants me gone, and he wants it to be at his hands.
As I lay on the ground, curled into a ball, I think about Zayne.
My sweet, carefree mate.
And my heart breaks because I don’t want to leave him behind. I don’t want to cause him pain.
I just found him. We just started our lives together. I’m not ready for this to be over.
I’m not ready to say goodbye.
Tears fall from my tightly shut eyes, giving them another thing to laugh about. They call me a pussy, a stupid little bitch.
They’re all sad, pathetic little boys who hate their lives and get off on other people's pain.
They don’t know what it feels like to be loved, to be wanted. To be someone's whole world, or have someone be theirs.
But I do. And even if it was only for a short time, I wouldn’t change it for the world.
I hope he knows I didn’t want to leave him. I’d never choose to leave him.
Please, forgive me. I love you, Zayne.
CHAPTER 26
ZAYNE
I can feel him.
Even before we roll into the empty parking lot behind the old gas station-turned-market, I know this is so much worse than we thought. Asher's fear pulses through me, not new—but worse now. More urgent. My chest aches like it's being hollowed out from the inside.
The SUV lurches as Dad throws it into park. I jump out before it stops completely, shoes hitting the cracked asphalt hard. Alice’s car is there. Driver’s side door open. Groceries scattered across the ground like someone dropped them mid-motion. A bag of cherries has burst, red fruit rolling out in all directions like little witnesses.
“What the fuck,” I breathe, half to myself, half to whoever’s listening.
Alice’s face drains of color. She presses a trembling hand to her mouth.
“Asher,” I say. My voice breaks on his name. I swallow hard, push past the panic, and kneel beside a jar of broken pickles. Noblood. No signs of struggle... but I feel it. Like a tether pulling at my ribs. He was here. Taken from here.
Dad watches me, his eyes dark. "Zayne?"
"We need to go south," I say, already turning back toward the truck. "Now."
He doesn't question me. He shouldn’t. Not when it comes to Asher.
Alice slides in the backseat this time, pale and silent. Her hands twist the hem of her sweater. Dad starts the engine and peels out of the lot. My fingers twitch with the need to do something more than ride shotgun. I close my eyes, pull in a breath, and open myself to the bond. Magic and instinct tangled up in something stronger than either of us ever expected.
