Page 56 of PET

I can hear the wood pop and groan. Billie screams from inside the room, confirming he has her with him. I see red; all the blood pumping through my veins at an all-time high as adrenaline fills me.

I continue to kick the door over and over until my head feels like it’s about to explode—the veins pulsing and swelling under pressure.

“Stay back or I’ll do it!” Patrick shouts, and I know Holden’s in the room. “Keep back from the door!”

“Ahh!!” I scream, kicking harder and harder. I don’t care if I fucking pass out. I’m getting into that goddamn room!

I just know the sick bastard has her held hostage right now, threatening to hurt her now that Holden’s in there. I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.

The door creaks and groans, and the door frame is weakening and getting wobblier.

“Relax, man, you don’t have to do that,” Holden’s voice comes through next.

Every muscle in my body is screaming right now, but I’m not giving up. I refuse to give up. And three kicks later, the door bursts open as far as it can go. A fucking table is in the way, so I shoulder the door and push the table away.

I feel like Bruce Banner right before Hulk explodes out of him, squaring my shoulders as a powerful rage tears through me. My body is humming; the sound of water rushing through my ears makes me lightheaded. He’s holding Billie against his front side, exactly how I thought he would be. A letter-opener pressed into her jugular.

“Take that away from her neck or I will skull fuck you,” I tell him through clenched teeth, trying not to pounce on him right now.

Billie’s in the middle of us, and I refuse to take him out without thinking this through. Rabid or not, I’m also very calm and collected.

When he doesn’t move, I cock my head and grin at him like a wild beast. “This motherfucker doesn’t understand what I’m going to do to him, does he, Ghostie?”

Holden stands tall, not afraid in the least as he cocks his Ghostface covered mug and shakes his head. “Nope, he doesn’t understand at all, Mike. I think we should show him.”

I chuckle and raise a middle finger to Patrick, holding my hand right in front of my mask. He backs away from us, keeping Billie tight to his chest.

Fuck, I can’t see out of this thing very well. I reach up and adjust it so the eye holes are straight on with my eyes. Much fucking better.

I can see Billie’s face better now, but he should wish that I hadn’t. She’s been crying and purple marks wrap around her delicate throat. The bruising sticks out like a sore thumb against her pale complexion. Then I look into her crystal blue gaze and see the fear there, but something else, too.

My girl is happy to see me.

But there’s also a sense of relief in her eyes, too, as if she didn’t think I was going to come for her. Or maybe she’s surprised I care about her enough to risk my safety or freedom. If that’s the case, I need to figure out how to prove to her I would lie down my life to make sure she is always safe.

I’d do it for Zeke’s lyin’ punk ass, too.

“I’m going to break every one of your fingers for putting that on her skin,” I tell him threateningly. I’d do it now, but he’s not making it easy to grab the cocksucker.

He laughs, though, telling me he thinks he still has the upper hand here. “You don’t scare me, you little fuck. I’ve run this town long before your daddy blew his load into your mommy’s dirty cunt.”

The sick fuck can say whatever he wants to get a rise out of me. I don’t give a shit what he, or anyone else, has to say about my parents. I hate their fucking guts. What everyone says is true, anyway—lying, cheating, manipulating pieces of trash.

“Do you mean the same town that kicked your ass out of it when you turned eighteen?” I ask, cocking my Michael Myers mask-covered head at him.

His jaw ticks as he squints at me, knowing I’m playing his game right back. “Clever. But you don’t know shit, Veradin. Your precious daddy is the worst of them all. I just want what’s due to me, goddamnit!” he shouts, pressing the letter opener harder into Billie’s neck.

Her wild, scared blue eyes lock onto mine as tears fill them.

“And what the hell do you think is owed to you? What could you possibly want out of Reaper?” I ask, holding my arms open and spinning around. “This place is a vortex to hell.”

Patrick grins wildly, a crazed gleam flashing through his wide eyes. “There’s a lot to gain from a town like Reaper—money, fame, protection. Things you can’t buy unless you’re from the upper class. That was unfairly taken from me when I was eighteen!” he shouts. “Something you know nothing about.”

My eyes dart back to Billie’s worried expression. “Why do you need her?” I ask, nodding at her.

He stops grinning, looking at Holden, who’s trying to get closer to them without being noticed. “Stay back, Ghostface! I’ll hurt her!” he shouts, shoving the metal blade harder against her throat until she’s gasping.

“And I’ll fucking hurt you,” I tell him. “Let her go and we’ll let you go.”

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