Page 37 of Be My Sinner

I lunge forward, taunting him with my fist and almost landing another blow. My leg and back protest my movements with stings from the knife wounds, but I ignore them. Adrenaline runs through my system, giving my body the much-needed boost to keep going. To fight this fucker to the death. Mine or his, as of yet to be determined.

“There is nowhere to go, fucker. You will die here.” I breathe through my nose, trying to get as much oxygen down my abused esophagus as possible. I lunge forward again, this time slicing his arm, pale skin immediately appearing before me before red covers it. “You bleed; you’re no ghost.”

I lunge forward this time with my fist, which connects to the mask’s side, causing it to slide upwards and reveal a small pale chin. His head swings backward just in time to avoid the full force of my hit, and he stumbles closer to the drop. He’s now mere inches from it. I can hear the gravel moving under his feet and his harsh breath.

Fear. I hope he’s feeling fear.I’ve never felt more alive than now. In this moment, as I fight for my life, I’ve found a strange sense of peace within the darkness that consumes me. I battle not just for survival, but to be the monster that ends another monster.

Just as I am preparing to slash again, to end his life, something hits me hard from behind, and I buckle to my knees, releasing my hold on the blade. The‘Ghost’immediately moves forward, kicking it away from my reach.

“Get the fuck away from her, you maggot.” Another hard blow is delivered to the back of my skull, this time threatening my vision with blackness. I try to shake it off, but end up receiving another blow to the head for my trouble. The fucker behind me grasps tightly to the back of my head, yanking on my hair and making my head and neck arch backward, until I am forced to stare up at the dark night sky with blurred eyes.

I make out another white mask with the eyes cut out, and another figure wholly draped in black from the corner of my eye. This one seems larger, more menacing than the ‘Ghost’before me. A forearm wraps around my neck, tightening his hold and choking me. I try to fight his grip, scrambling to lift myself from the ground, when I feel a blade slice my upper thigh. My eyes try to look forward, and I catch the‘Ghost’out of the corner of my eye. He’s the one slicing me. Ensuring I can’t rise to my feet and fight back.

Darkness starts to descend on me, my breathing slowing and my blood loud in my ears. Will I ever wake up? Is this the end of me? Will I die here, two hundred feet from my house? The only person I love inside of it, angry with me, and not realizing that I am taking my last breath?

My final thought before blackness takes me is, he said,‘her’. ‘Get the fuck away from her, you maggot’.The‘Unholy Ghost’is a woman.

Chapter 17

The Forsaker

Zeke

Iawakewithagroan and the feeling of painful fire across all my limbs. I try to crack an eyelid open to get an idea of where I am, and if I am a captive of those two psychopaths. Soft yellow light immediately accosts my vision and makes my stomach lurch with the desire to vomit. My head spins, and I struggle to sit up, the pain intensifying. I’m instantly forced to turn my head to the side of the bed, and expel the bile that’s burning its way back up my throat.

“Take it easy, Zeke! I’m pretty sure you have a concussion, and I’m not sure if your ribs are broken.” Abe’s gravelly and agitated voice greets my ears, and I’ve never been so relieved to hear it. I’m alive and somehow not in their clutches. I don’t know how that’s possible, but I am so thankful that I am.

I crack my eyes open wider and meet his concerned amber gaze. He’s trying to prevent me from face-planting off the side of the bed, his firm grip keeping me steady before guiding me back down onto the soft pillows. I see him clenching his teeth, as I release a groan in response to the pain coursing through my body.Those two bastards got me good.

“How?” My voice croaks as I ask the question, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. He hands me a glass of cold water, and I attempt to hold it in my trembling grip. However, he smacks my hand away gently, raising the glass to my lips so I can take a few sips and cleanse my mouth of the unpleasant aftertaste of vomit. I consider protesting his nurturing gesture, but truthfully, I find myself rather enjoying it.

“I was angry with you,” he says, rolling his eyes. Well, that’s nothing new, I think to myself. It seems like he’s always angry with me lately.

“I went looking for you in your room so I could punch you in the face, but you were gone. One of the guards said you walked towards the cliffs, so I came to find you.” He places the glass on my nightstand, his eyes filled with concern. “Lucky I did, asshole. You were out cold a few mere feet from the cliff’s edge, and bleeding like a stuck pig.”

The image he describes sends a shiver racing up my spine. I came perilously close to death tonight, closer than I’ve ever been. Why didn’t they finish me off? They could have, and no one would have stopped them. Why am I still alive?

“Who did this to you, Zeke?” He leans closer to me, his hand trembling as it touches the side of my face. “Who am I going to kill for touching what’s mine?”

I pause for a moment before responding to his questions. Thoughts and images assail me rapidly. The vision of blue-gray eyes and a glimpse of pale skin flashes through my mind.It couldn’t be.My mind vehemently rejects the notion.No, there’s no way it’s a woman.

Her. The other fucker said her. The‘Unholy Ghost’is a female. Now, looking back at the size and shape of my attacker, there is no doubt in my mind that it was, in fact, a her.Holy fuck. A woman has been bringing down the members of the Order, one powerful family at a time. Shivers race through my body at the reminder of how many people she has killed already, with no sign of stopping any time soon.

Again, the question of why didn’t they finish me enters my mind. They could have pushed me off the cliff, and then I would have fallen to my death. Instead, they left me there bleeding. Did they hope that someone from the house would find me, or was it a matter of allowing fate to do its work? If I died, I died; if I survived, they would attempt to kill me again. Is this all some sick, depraved game?

“Earth to Zeke! Are you in there?” Abe waves a hand in front of my eyes with unsuppressed annoyance. “Jesus, maybe we should get the doctor back here?”

Fuck, he had the doctor here to tend to me. I hope he bought the bastard’s silence; otherwise, our fathers will descend like vultures, ready to lock up their precious heirs. Right now, I’m not even sure if that is my biggest concern; once again, a pair of blue-gray eyes enter my mind.

“The ‘Unholy Ghost’ paid me a visit last night, and not a welcome one.” The corner of my lips lifts upward at the shade of crimson that immediately tints Abe’s face, the rage in his eyes causing the amber color to glow like liquid honey.

“WHAT? What do you mean the ‘Unholy Ghost’ paid you a visit? That’s who attacked you?” He begins to pace in front of the end of the bed, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as his breathing quickens. “I’m going to murder that fucker. I’m going to enjoy skinning him alive!”

A sadistic grin spreads across my lips, a sense of enjoyment filling me as I prepare to turn Abe’s world upside down. “Her. You are going to enjoy skinningheralive.“ I watch as my words penetrate his skull, and he realizes what I just said.

“What do you mean ‘her’?” His movement comes to a complete halt, shock racing across his features.

“It’s a woman, Abe. The killer is a woman. A strong and highly-trained woman.” My words send a shiver down my spine as I recall how well-trained she was, and how vicious and cold she appeared. I remember the painful blows she landed on me with that blade, and the menacing intent in her attempts to end my life. Would she have slit my throat with one of those sharp blades?

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