Page 130 of Fire Island
“This a game to you, Butterfly?” the big guy says.
“Don’t call me that,” I hiss, straining in the grip holding me.
Timothy sneers, his hot breath hitting my ear. “We can call you whatever we want, whore. Nobody’s coming for you. You’re all ours.”
I struggle in my confines but don’t react other than to say, “I never have been, nor will I ever be, yours.”
“You look pretty much ours at the moment,” the big guy says, tracing a filthy finger over my jaw. It hooks over my bottom lip.
My gut churns.
Chest heaving, I hold my composure . . . just.
The big guy smirks. “You made us work for it, angel. Don’t get me wrong, I’m always up for a good hunt, but now you’re going to pay for that little chase.” His foul breath hits my mouth, and I wince, pressing my lips closed and turning my head to the side.
His fingers pinch my chin, snapping my face back to him as he towers over me.
“Now, you don’t leave this little island. You don’t get to ease into this. You take us both, right here, right now.”
“Get your depraved fucking hands off me!”
“Not this time, little one,” he whispers.
Heat licks my spine as fear seeps through my body. My airway all but closes over. Trembling, I groan, trying one last time to pull away. The knife disappears from my throat as it hangs in his hand. His gaze travels down my body, slow and heated, his pale-blue eyes darkening as his expression changes.
When it comes back up, the tip of the knife pushes the neck of my T-shirt down. The material slices under the sharp blade. Crimson soaks into my T-shirt.
“I like that, you bleeding. Me taking what I want,Butterfly.”
“Please . . .” I sob. “Please don’t do this.”
My heroine is long since gone.
My bravery left along with my last chance to escape, scurrying after Reese as he fled.
Like I told him to.
Because the heroine doesn’t throw lives down for protection. She stands her damn ground.
She. Stands. Her. Damn. Ground.
Still trembling, I set my shoulders back.
It’s not fear, it’s adrenaline.
It’s not fear, it’s adrenaline.
It’s not fear, it’s adrenaline.
No fear.
One long breath in. I fix my attention on the man towering over me. The blade, my knife, in his filthy fucking hand.
This ismystory.
Youare side characters, just begging to be killed off.
I write this ending.
