Page 89 of Sacrifice
Know where he's heading—old deer trail that leads to a back road where a car might be waiting.
I cut the angle, intercepting him in a small clearing.
We collide like freight trains, going down hard, rolling in the dead leaves.
He's younger, probably stronger when I'm wounded, but I've got rage on my side.
His fist catches my wounded arm, and white-hot agony explodes through me.
But I've been hurt worse in places with less reason to keep fighting.
I get on top, drive my knee into his solar plexus, watch him gasp for air that won't come.
"You shot at her," I tell him, voice calm despite the fury underneath. "At the hospital. You remember?"
He tries to speak, but can't get the words out past his crushed windpipe.
Good. I don't want to hear them anyway.
"She was terrified," I continue, pulling out my knife. "I could feel her shaking against me as she drove. Because of you. Because you pulled that trigger."
His eyes widen as the blade catches moonlight.
This won't be quick. Won't be clean. But it'll be thorough.
I start with his shooting hand.
The one that held the gun, pulled the trigger, tried to end my world.
He screams, high and thin, until I stuff leaves in his mouth.
"Shh," I tell him. "Don't want to attract attention. This is between us."
I work methodically, remembering every second of Saga's fear.
Every drop of my blood on her hands.
Every nightmare she'll have because of tonight.
Each memory earns him another cut, another moment of agony.
"She dreams, you know," I inform him conversationally. "Wakes up gasping, reaching for me. Because of you. Because you made her feel unsafe in her own life."
He's crying now, tears mixing with blood and dirt.
Trying to beg through the makeshift gag.
But mercy's for men who don't shoot at what's mine.
When I finally grant him death, it's almost anticlimactic.
One thrust between the ribs, angled up to find the heart.
He shudders once and goes still, eyes fixed on nothing.
I wipe the blade on his shirt, pocket it.
The woods are quiet except for my breathing and distant sirens.
