Page 9 of The Devil Within

Alex.

‘You’re a dead man,Hollywood, a fucking dead man.’ The voice growled next to her ear.

‘You shouldn’t have come here, Brodie,’ said Alex, slowly moving around the sofa towards them.

‘You shouldn’t have dogged to the cops.’

‘What the fuck are you talking about? I’m no dog.’

Alex stood directly under the light. In his bloodied hand was a knife, blood dripping from the short blade.Where was Heather?

Sarah started to whimper. For the first time in over a year, she looked into his eyes.

‘It’s going to be okay,’ he whispered.

Tears spilled down her cheeks.I don’t want to die.

Alex looked past her to the man he called Brodie. ‘Why did you come here?’ His tone was low and even.

‘No patch-outs, you know that. Whether you turned dog or not, you signed your own death warrant when you took off.’

‘Yeah? Well after everything I’ve done for this club, I figured I’d earned my freedom.’

‘That’s not how it works,’ Brodie snarled. ‘You’re fucking pathetic, running to your girlfriend. Now you’re both gonna die.’

Sarah tried to make sense of what they were saying. Her heart beat a crazy staccato rhythm, threatening to burst from her chest. Whose blood was on the knife in Alex’s hand?

Alex continued to inch closer. ‘Doesn’t have to go down that way, Brodie.’ He came to a pause only three feet from Sarah. The metallic tang of blood crept inside her nostrils, slithering down her throat.

‘Just let us go. Tell Zep you got the job done. Tell him you put a bullet between my eyes and dumped my body where no one would ever find it.’

Every part of her was trembling, her breathing came in short, painful rasps as tears burned hot trails down her face. ‘Please, I don’t want to di—’

‘Shut up, bitch.’ Brodie gave her hair an extra yank.

Alex lunged towards them and Brodie stumbled back, the gun dislodging from her ribs. Alex grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him. She screamed, her free hand trying to prise loose the fingers still twisted in her hair.

Then, somehow, she was pitching forward, her foot catching on the coffee table, bringing her down heavily on her hands and knees. She glanced behind her and saw Alex and Brodie wrestling for the gun.

Heather!

Sarah crawled around the sofa. Her left hand slid out from under her, through a thick, sticky substance. Blood.

She reeled back, staring at the body of the tall man with the ugly scar, his neck mangled and bleeding, his eyes staring at nothing. So much blood. On her hands.

Oh God, it’s on me.

The bile that had sat in the back of her throat erupted. Sarah heaved and gagged until there was nothing left. Her skin felt clammy and her breath came in fits and starts. She looked past the body of the dead man, her heart jumpstarting painfully in her chest. Heather…

Her friend lay curled in a ball, her face covered in blood. Quickly, Sarah manoeuvred around the dead man to get to Heather.

Please don’t be dead, please, please, please.

She leant in close and could hear Heather breathing, a nasally rattle. Sarah sagged with relief, gently stroking her friend’s head.

‘You’re okay,’ she whispered. ‘We’re both okay.’

A sickening crack sounded across the room.

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