Page 19 of Entangled

I can’t believe it.

My plan might actually work.

Chapter6

Eden

Survival tip #75

Despite literature to the contrary, not all villains are sexy.

Even if they are fantastic orators.

Scared, angry shouts fill the air.

I lie frozen and suddenly awake, still tied against the tree, curled into Madison like the midnight hour might shade us from their eyes. It won’t, of course, and our bonds are too tight to escape.

“It’s okay,” she whispers into my hair. “It’s going to be okay.”

Liar.

“Bring the girl—she can help him,” one of the men shouts.

“Helpwhat? He’s fucking dead!” someone shouts back.

Who is dead? Alastair? The burns were bad, but he’d started looking more alert this afternoon. Or is it Jorge—the man who lost his arm at Bristlebrook? He’d been unconscious and feverish all day.

The big fire in the middle of the camp is too bright to look at but does a terrible job of illuminating anything clearly. The Sinners are furious figures in the night, their shadows looming large and ghastly against the earth as they crash together.

“This is your fault.”

“You fucked this up for all of us!”

“We should have stayed at the Den.”

“Jorge isdead, you asshole!”

A gun goes off with a reckless roar, and I flinch into the tree. Madison tucks my head into her chest, stretching her bonds as far as they’ll go to soothe me like I’m an infant.

Like the frightened, pathetic coward I am.

The herbs in my pocket seem miserable. Utterly useless. There’s a cry of pain, more shouts, and the shadows twist and warp nightmarishly. I squeeze my eyes shut.

I know what’s coming when this falls out, when the rest of the bodies fall silent and someone wins. When their blood is high and hungry on victory, they’ll come for us.

And I won’t be able to do anything to stop them.

I won’t be able to fight them. I won’t be able to escape. I don’t even think I’ll have the courage to try—it will only make them hurt me more.

A tear leaks down my cheek as another gun is fired.

I will lie down, I decide. I will open my legs and let them take what they want. If I let them, maybe they won’t kill me.

God, I don’t want to die.

Suddenly there’s a deep, angry roar, and the deafening, peppering blasts of a machine gun. Men yell, diving for cover, and everyone hits the ground at once.

“Enough,” Sam snarls. “That’s enough. Like dealing with fucking children—we aremen!”

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