Page 84 of Iron Roses

I glance up.

He’s turned away, just enough to hide his screen. One hand tapping. Not checking. Sending.

I freeze.

His shoulders are still. Too still.

My stomach coils.

A dull thud pounds in my ears—pulse or dread, I can’t tell. He pockets the phone.

He turns and his lips curve up in a smile. I know the shift. My fingers wrap around the knife I’d slid into my clothes as I left the table. It can’t do much but it can distract him while I run.

I aim for his left eyes but he senses my panic and moves with me. His elbow hits my shoulder as he twists.

I stumble back.

He growls—animalistic, shocked.

His hand grabs my wrist before I can stab again.

“You stupid—”

His fist connects with the side of my face. Everything jolts sideways.

The world tilts.

My knees give. I land hard, breath ripped from my chest. I taste dirt.

My cheek burns. My ears ring.

He’s on me before I can move. His knee presses into my back, his hand wraps around my hair, yanking my head back.

“I didn’t want to do it this way,” he hisses. “But you don’t listen.”

He pins my legs. One hand fumbles at his side, pulling a small plastic case from inside his coat. The case snaps open.

I hear the click of a cap.

Then—

The glint of metal.

A syringe.

My breath stops.

“Please—”

But my voice is weak.

My limbs are weaker.

The tip punches into my neck.

A hard jab.

The plunger pushes down.

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