Page 74 of The Dead Don't Talk
“You fuckingleftme,” Amo snarls out while still swinging, still clawing, catching Moros‘s arm in the process. He tears open skin and draws a deep red gash across his forearms. It makes me hiss and Moros growls.
“I’m trying to fuckingprotect you,” Moros mutters behind gritted teeth.
“Youall left me,” Amo yells, wedging his hands beneath Moros’s grip just right to slide beneath.
He dodges my reach, too, when I go to grab him, my fingers barely brushing the fabric of his shirt before he’s turning away and taking off.
“Stupid fuckingassholes—”
All of the air leaves my lungs when a body slams into Amo, sending him flying, the two tumbling to the ground in a heap.
The sound he makes, the squeal of his surprise that bleeds into pain, has Moros screaming his name and my stomach drops.
“Baby, no!”
Heart pounding, I pump my legs to catch up, stabbing anything and everything in my way.
“Stop,” Amo yells when Moros grabs the freshly decomposing body that’s pinning our guy down, and he freezes. The thing thrashes against him, ripping her clothes further, trying everything it can to either break free or chomp on whatever gets close enough to her snapping jaws. “Fuck.”
The thick way Amo’s curse comes out has me swallowing back a whole lot of shit as he accepts my offered hand to pull him up.
But the tears in his eyes nearly break me.
“Oh, shit, it’s Cassia.” Moros’s words cut through anything I was about to say and the collection on Amo’s lashes break free.
“What the fuck is she doing out here?” I ask, but no one can answer as both Amo and I turn to look at the body in Moros’sarms, her skin too pale, punctured in several places, and her short hair a ratted mess.
There’s a wound already on her head that’s pouring a deep red down the side of her face and her eyes … they’ve gone bloodshot and darkened.
I have to grab Amo when he lurches forward, like he’s reaching for her, and I hold him against me.
The wails of pain come next, and my heart shatters in my chest.
Moros meets my gaze over her head, and his, and I subtly shake mine.
No. We can’t kill her yet.
I swallow hard as Amo trembles in my arms. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“She wasjust—” he cuts off with a choke. “Wilson,I just saw her.” He cries and shakes harder when she hisses and snaps. “She wasfinebefore she snuck out!”
Moros pins her harder, keeping her in place as Amo just stares.
And my baby cries.
I meet Moros’s hard gaze over their heads again, silently asking him what the fuck we’re supposed to do. The horde is shifting behind him, moving away from us and closer to the front gates we can't leave unattended for too long.
He shakes his head back, a softness to his eyes that he’s trying to bury behind his hard scowl.
“We’re running out of time, baby,” I murmur softly and Amo sobs.
Cassia screeches.
“Let me do it,” he whispers, his grip on me tight.
“Kitten,” Moros says almost in warning. It’s hard and draws Amo’s tear-filled gaze up.
“It has to be me,” he says, stronger this time, but no less heartbroken.
