Page 85 of Glitter Rose
“Gabriel’s dead,” I say.
“Even better.” Mike drops the axe from his shoulder, Miller’s blood dripping from the blade, staining the forest floor between us. “You’ll be mine.”
“I’ll cut your fucking hands off.” Knox barrels toward Mike.
Mike’s axe whistles through the air as Knox dodges, the blade missing him by inches. They circle each other like wolves, Knox light on his feet despite his exhaustion, Mike lumbering but powerful.
He swings again, and this time Knox isn’t fast enough. The sharp side catches him across the chest, carving a bloody line into cloth and skin.
Not deep enough to kill, but enough to make him stagger backward, hand pressed to the wound. Blood leaks between his fingers, turning his black shirt even darker.
“Knox!” I rush forward, but Mike’s tree-trunk arm slams into my belly, sending me sprawling into the dirt.
“Stay down, sweetheart.” Mike tosses the axe aside, the heavy blade thudding into the leaf litter. “This is too easy. Want to feel his face cave in under my fist.”
Knox’s eyes meet mine for a split second—a universe of meaning packed into that glance. And one single word screaming at me.
RUN.
But I can’t. Won’t.
I close my fingers around the knife handle
Never again.
Mike advances on Knox, fists raised. “When I’m done with you, I’ll take her right here. Let you watch.”
Knox circles right, forcing Mike to turn away from me. I use the opportunity to creep closer, knife ready. If I can get behind him?—
Mike feints left, then charges at Knox like a bull, catching him in a tackle that sends them both landing in the underbrush as they grapple.
I sprint, aiming for Mike’s neck, but his elbow shoots out, hitting me on the chest. The impact sends me flying again, air punched from my lungs as I slam against the ground, hitting my head.
“Paris!” Knox’s distraction costs him, and Mike lands a meaty fist against his jaw.
White spots dance across my vision, but I fight through, battling to stand. Faster, Paris. You don’t have time!
Knox fights like a demon, landing blows that would incapacitate a normal man. But Mike is a wall of muscle, absorbing punishment that should put him down.
Stupid enhanced shitbag.
“Gonna enjoy this.” Mike closes his hands around Knox’s throat, squeezing.
Blood pounds in my ears as I force my legs to move, to carry me forward despite my head protesting in agony.
Knox bucks and twists, but Mike’s weight keeps him trapped. His face reddens, veins standing out in his neck as he fights for air. Mike doesn’t even look up, too focused.
One chance.
I jump onto Mike’s broad back, wrapping my arm around his thick neck. He rears up, releasing Knox to grab at me instead. His fingers dig into my forearm, trying to dislodge me, but I cling like a tick, my legs locked around his waist.
“Get off me, you crazy bitch!” He slams backward, crushing me between his body and a tree.
Pain tears through my ribs, but I hold on. Asshole. He does it again, harder, and something cracks. The blade nearly slips from my grasp, but I clamp down harder.
Telly would call me crazy, too.
Knox gasps for air on the ground, struggling to rise as Mike spins, trying to shake me off. The world blurs around us, trees and sky and earth all blending together as he thrashes.
