Page 113 of Freaks Of Nature
I cry out in agony. It’s lodged in deep—much deeper than the stab at my shoulder earlier caused by my tackle. Despite the adrenaline rush, this time I feel the pain everywhere. Fire ignites my muscles from head to toe, making me dread even the smallest movements, but I can’t give up now. I can’t let him get to her.
Ash jumps to his feet behind me. I hear the rustle of clothes. When I push up and swing around, I find him aiming the barrel of a gun at my chest.
Em
His body angled toward me, Ash cocks his head. “You didn’t think that was my only weapon, did you?” He glares down at Mason by his feet with the hilt of the knife protruding from his left side. “This is much more my style.”
I slap my palms over my mouth to contain my sob as I cower in the hallway, my knees pulled into my chest.
Ash’s fingers flex. “Last chance.” He adjusts his grip around the gun. “Walk away. Don’t make me fucking kill you.”
“You already have my answer,” Mason sneers, the muscles in his back and shoulders contracting visibly underneath his sweatshirt. His breathing appears labored.
“Sheis where you draw the line?” The gun shakes as Ash’s anger takes over. “You chooseherover your own blood? Your ownbrother?”
“You’re no brother to me.” Mason’s right hand reaches across his body, and I flinch when he yanks out the knife in one sharp pull. “You made it clear how much blood means to you.”
Bracing his injured side, he slowly pushes to his feet.
I can’t imagine the physical pain he’s containing on top of his brother’s betrayal. Ash admitted to everything. He brought his deceit to light. He won’t let me live knowing the truth. Mason is the only one standing in his way. He came back. Even after I hit him, after I told him I never wanted to see him again, he’s defending me.
“I protected you,” he growls, raising the bloody knife at Ash. “I should’ve let him kill us.”
My eyes flick back and forth between them. I don’t know who he’s talking about. Who are Ely and DeMarco?
Mason gives air to another roar, then lunges at Ash again. He deflects the barrel of the gun toward the ceiling at the same time his brother blocks the knife.
A shot goes off, and I jump, covering my ears. My vision blurs from tears I can’t hold in. I’m so scared for him, but I don’t know what to do. If I get in between, I might make matters worse.
They push and pull. With bated breath, I watch Mason rear back, then his skull cracks against Ash’s, sending him stumbling backward. Dazed, he drops his gun.
The knife also clatters to the ground in the process, but Mason doesn’t give his twin a chance to recover either weapon. He spins on his foot. His leg swinging out, he throws a kick at Ash’s head in a wide arch.
As Ash goes down, Mason straddles him. The last thing I see is his fist reeling back, Ash’s hands at his throat, then they’re blocked from view by my bed.
Along with their grunts, a relentless assault of kicks and punches carries to my ears before they reappear in my sight, but I’ve lost track. I don’t know who’s who.
The fight is a tangle of black limbs. Same hoodie. Same jeans and boots. Bloodied faces. I can’t tell them apart.
Metal slides against wood. They tumble across the floor while scrambling for the scattered weapons, either one trying to stop the other from reaching them.
One gets a hold of the gun.
His twin kicks it out of his grip, diving for it himself. I see it skidding in my direction, then it all happens so fast. Stretched toward it flat on the floor, his fingers wrap around the grip. Behind him, his brother has found the knife that slid under my bed. The blade descends toward his back when he whips around and pulls the trigger, hitting his target dead center between the eyes.
—
His arm drops. His grip releases the weapon as it comes down, and when I hear it hitting the floor beside him, I know…
He’s not the one who wants me dead.
Mason falls back, hands clasping his head as a sob hitches in his throat.
He killed his brother.
Despite the terrible things Ash has done, he was still his twin, his only family, and I feel his pain.
Ash’s body collapsed where he stood when he raised the knife. I can’t look. A pool of blood forms in my periphery as I kick off the floor and rush to Mason’s side.
