Page 136 of Rear View
Zoya ran.
“You stupid little bitch!” he snarled, then whipped his arm out, backhanding me across the cheek.
My vision flashed white as I staggered to the side, and fell, colliding with the floor, hard.
Z was almost at the exit. Close. She was so close. Barlowe raised the gun.
“NO!” I cried.
He fired.
Boom.
She jerked, her spine going rigid before she collapsed, falling face-first to the floor. Blood pooled around her body. She didn’t move.
My world stopped. No. NoNoNononono! “ZOYA!” I sobbed, reaching for her.
Barlowe drew his leg back and kicked, his boot connecting with my stomach. The air exploded from my lungs, and I curled in on myself, gasping as I fought my ever-blurring vision to hold on to consciousness.
“That was stupid, Ryah Jane. She’s dead now and you have no one to blame but yourself.” He kicked again, and I groaned while he tugged his jacket straight.
Taking me under the arm, he dragged me to my feet, past Zoya’s unmoving body, and outside. My eyes rolled in and out of focus, the cold biting at my skin as my boots scuffed over the snow and ice.
“It didn’t need to come to this,” he seethed, like I was some poorly behaved child.
“No,” I said, words slurred. “It didn’t.”
Something moved in my periphery.
Barlowe pitched his voice menacingly low as he pressed the gun to my back. “Keep your mouth shut or I’ll kill them too, do you understand?”
“R.J. Holy shit!” Christian said, running up to us from my right, Chloe holding a stack of books by his side. “You’re bleeding! Jesus! Are you alright?”
Bleeding. Not my blood.Not my blood!
Barlowe’s grip on my arm dug in painfully as hemoved flush to my side. “Miss Nolan slipped on the ice and hit her head.”
Christian winced. “She looks pretty rough. Should we maybe call an ambulance?”
I tried to nod, but when my head fell, it was too heavy to lift again. Forcing my pleading gaze to his, I prayed to all things holy he could see the panic there.HELP! PLEASE!
“Miss Nolan assures me she’s fine, but I’m taking her to the ER just in case.” Barlowe nudged me. “We should get going, though.”
Chloe’s eyes narrowed.
“Oh. Yeah,” Christian stepped aside, his expression gaunt as he watched us go.
My chest constricted. No. No.No!
“Faster now,” Barlowe ordered as we closed in on his car. Popping the passenger-side door open, he shoved hard. “Get in.”
I tripped, catching myself on the frame, and hesitated.
Through his coat, he pressed the muzzle into my side. “Get. In.”
I shuddered an exhale, because lowering myself into that seat was like climbing into a coffin. Certain death.
His eyes darted around the lot. “Hold tight now, Ryah Jane.” His jaw was clenched, and his nostrils flared. “It’s time to have a little fun.”
