Page 125 of Kept

I grip it as tightly as I can. “Sorry. I think… I do need help.”

“Fuck.” Ethan grabs my arm again. “This is taking too long.”

I have one chance. One chance to get this right. Taking a deep breath, I wait until he lifts me before I twist, driving the branch into him with every bit of strength I have.

His face contorts, his mouth opening on a strangled scream. The sharp edge of the branch slides into his body with little resistance, and I stumble back as he staggers, landing on his knees.

“Zella,” he wheezes. Blood, almost black in the muted light, bubbles from around the edges of the stick. I back away, gasping, as Ethan raises his hands to the stick and tries to pull it out.

Hands land on me, and I whirl with a scream in my throat. Enzo is there, his black eyes full of stars as he looks between me and the bleeding man on the floor. “Little prey,” he breathes. “Did he hurt you?”

I shake my head, but his eyes move to my face, darkening as he turns. Ryder and Maverick are right behind him, and I sink into them as I turn to watch Enzo move over to Ethan.

He leans over him, his face considering. “A clean shot,” he calls. He bends down and twists the stick, and I flinch as Ethan groans. It sounds wet, his chest rattling. “He’s got a few minutes at most.”

“Zella.” Maverick cups my face. “You don’t need to see this, sweetheart.”

I swallow roughly. “Yes, I do.”

When I move past Maverick, he moves with me, his hand on my back as I fall to my knees next to Ethan. He coughs, and I recoil as blood splatters from his mouth.

“Stay… with me,” he wheezes. His hand reaches up, and I consider it silently.

“I don’t think so,” I say quietly. Ethan’s eyes widen as I lean forward, and twist the stick as hard as I can. He jerks, a cry of pain forced from his mouth, and Ryder swears softly behind me.

“For my mother,” I tell him hoarsely.

Then I twist it again. “For Dante.”

And then I pull it out completely as he screams. My hands feel slick with blood as I toss the branch aside.

“He’ll go more quickly now,” Enzo observes, his voice neutral.

I frown at the stick. “Oh.”

“We could stick it back in,” he suggests, and Maverick blocks my view, turning my face towards him. His hand feels hot against my skin.

“Forget him,” he murmurs. “Let him die alone, Zella.”

I nod vacantly. Yes, that feels appropriate.

As I stand, he tries to speak, only succeeding in a choked sound.

I don’t respond to his garbled sounds. Instead, I turn my back, walking away. Maverick stays next to me, his arm cradling my shoulders as Ryder and Enzo follow on silent feet.

We walk away from the clearing, and the shaking starts to return to my legs. When I stop, folding over, arms slide underneath me, lifting me and carrying me forward.

“Steady,” Maverick whispers in my ear. “We’ve got you, Zella. You’re safe.”

“The adrenaline’s wearing off,” Enzo mutters. “She’s gonna crash.”

His words are the last thing I hear.

49 – Zella

Imovethroughthedays in a haze.

I eat the food that Maverick feeds me.

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