Page 79 of Asher
“Tell me where you buried him at least,” Declan demanded, his voice breaking. “His brother deserves to know.”
I stepped closer, ignoring the weapon aimed at my chest.
“And why would I tell you that?” I asked.
Declan’s hands shook, his mask of control cracking.
“You monster,” Declan whispered.
My fingers itched to end him right there.
One quick, decisive strike, and Declan would be silenced forever. No more accusations, no more pursuit, no more threats to Asher or me.
My instincts screamed for it, urging me to protect what was mine.
But then, Asher’s voice echoed in my memory. He’d told me once that Declan meant something to his brother.
And despite everything, I wasn’t ready to stain my hands with blood that could sever what little family Asher had left.
I opened my mouth to tell him to walk away, to leave this behind and never look back. But before I could, Declan moved.
The crack of a gunshot split the air, and pain exploded in my side. I staggered, clutching at the wound as blood seeped between my fingers.
Declan didn’t hesitate, his gun now aimed at my chest.
“You think I’d let you go that easily?” he growled, advancing with deliberate steps.
I gritted my teeth, the pain sharpening my focus. He wanted a fight? Fine. I’d give him one he’d never forget.
Declan fired another shot, but I dodged, the projectile grazing my shoulder as I lunged forward.
Closing the distance between us was key. He was deadly at range, but up close, he’d lose his advantage.
I reached him in a blur, slamming into him with enough force to send us both crashing to the ground.
His weapon clattered away, but Declan was no rookie.
He twisted beneath me, driving his knee into my injured side. Pain flared, white-hot and searing, and I hissed through clenched teeth.
He rolled free, drawing a silver blade from his belt. The blade gleamed under the moonlight as he swung it in a deadly arc.
I barely avoided the strike, the tip slicing through my shirt and skimming my ribs.
The scent of my own blood filled the air, mingling with the adrenaline-fueled haze of the fight.
Declan pressed the attack, his movements precise and unrelenting.
I blocked his strikes, deflecting the blade with my forearm before twisting his wrist and forcing the knife from his grasp.
It hit the ground with a dull thud, and for a moment, we grappled, each trying to gain the upper hand.
He headbutted me, the impact sending stars bursting across my vision.
I stumbled back, giving him enough space to deliver a brutal punch to my jaw.
My head snapped to the side, but I recovered quickly, catching his next strike and using his momentum against him.
I twisted, throwing him off balance and slamming him into the ground. He let out a pained grunt, but he wasn’t done.
