Page 195 of Chaos

Not until cold metal nudges my temple, and pure, unadulterated terror constricts my lungs.

Swallowing the bitter taste of it, I turn slowly until my wide eyes fix on a reddened, maddened face. “You’re not going to shoot me.”

Ricky spits my own, stupid words back to me, “Do you want to fucking bet?”

My mouth dries out.

“You’re gonna trailer that horse,” Ricky says, pushing the gun harder against my skin before retreating completely. Before swinging it in a different direction, one that inspires even more bone-shaking fear. “Or I’m gonna shoot your boyfriend.”

Vomit climbs my throat.

I don’t hesitate for a single second.

“Okay.” Hands slowly rising in a trembling replacement for a white flag, I nod just as slow. “Fine. You win.”

In a stark contrast to everything else I’ve been spewing, it’s the exact right thing to say. A triumphant curve to his mouth,Ricky lowers the gun. Grabbing my arm, he drags me towards Ruin, rough even though I’m not fighting him, grunting when I dare to glance over my shoulder, to lock eyes with Finn, just for a moment.

It’s fine, I try to tell him telepathically.We’ll be fine. Ruin will be fine. Someone will see the fire. Someone will come. I just have to buy us a little time.

Pursing my lips, I force out a low, commanding whistle.

Ruin freezes. He trembles and huffs and flicks his tail, but he stops fighting.

“Good boy,” I croon, forcing cool, calm, collectedness into my tone—none of which I feel as I set eyes on the two fuckers abusing my poor boy. “Give the rope some slack.”

Vic sneers. “Do you think we’re stupid?”

“Yes,” I answer without hesitation, and both her and Ethan curse. “You’re pulling too bad. You’re hurting him. He’s never gonna go anywhere with you like this, so give thefuckingrope somefuckingslack.”

They grit their teeth, they curse some more, but they do it. As the pressure relents, Ruin tosses his head, letting loose a high-pitched whinny that I soothe with a cluck of my tongue. With a scratch to his withers, a careful palm splayed on his forehead—my own pressing just above his eye. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, defeat flooding me like poison. “But you need to calm down, okay? Please. Please, sweet boy.”

Ruin whinnies again, softer. He nudges me gently and fuck, my eyes start to sting, pure frustration leaking out of them.

A tear hits his coat, and he stiffens. So eerily human, he reels back, surveying my watery gaze and huffing. When he nuzzles my face tenderly, I really start to cry. Shoulders shaking, complete and utter bereavement deadens my nerves as I lead Ruin back into the hands of the people that made him so ruinous.

We’re almost at the trailer when a loud curse stops us. So lost in a muddy swarm of grief and guilt, I don’t realize what the problem is right away, why the five intruders look so panicked, until I recognize the rhythmic shriek cutting through the air.

Sirens.

“We don’t have time for this.”

With a panicked huff, Carl shoves me aside and grabs Ruin’s halter. As he tries to urge him forward, his new best friends start grabbling with the lead rope again, and Ruin starts to lose it again, squirming and fighting and more hands find his body, so many hands, so much panic that no one notice me losing the knot holding that rope halter in place.

No one notices it coming undone.

Not until the lead rope goes completely slack, hits the ground with a loud thump, and Ruin is free.

Shouts ring out as he rears, hooves flailing. There’s a wheezed breath, a loudoomph, another thud as something else crumples to the ground—Ethan. Vic screams as her boyfriend clutches his stricken chest, and just in case that piercing wail isn’t enough to send Ruin into a frenzy, I slap him hard on the rear, sends him speeding off into the night. And then I’m speeding, I’m twirling towards Finn, running back to him and screeching for him to get his ass in gear too.

And then, I’m not.

Then, a gunshot goes off.

Then, I can’t move at all.

46

He knows nothing but pain.

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