Page 135 of Fire Island
Air flies through my lips, leaving my lungs vacant.
I hunch over, gasping, unable to catch a decent parcel of air.
“Heroes die, fucker.” He leans down, plucking up the knife that fell from my hand.
On my knees in front of the man who cost mo nighean six fucking years of her life, I can only wonder what drives a man to do such a thing. To take a life as easily as this.
“Now you die, on your knees, while she watches.”
“Go on, boy. Do your worst,” I spit.
“No, Cal. Please, stop this. I surrender...” Evie moves to my side. “I surrender!”
“Too late, Butterfly. Besides, you’re already mine.”
“Never.”
The guy chuckles like she just told some witty joke.
His hand grips my throat, closing off my airway, as his gaze hovers across her body with a sickening expression.
My gut sinks at his lurid gesture. I can’t breathe, and I groan before gasping out, “No... Plea—my life for hers. T-take mine... let her go.”
There is no way I’m living without this woman. No way I’m letting her wear this consequence. That’s a fresh hell I can’t take. I don’t give two fucking shits who started this, I’m finishing it.
His attention shifts back to me, his hand raising across his chest diagonally, ready to strike. The hand around my throat crawls into my hair, tugging my head back.
Evie moves in my periphery.
It’s then I notice her left hand behind her back.
His arm slashes toward my exposed throat.
“I saidno,” Evie breathes, lunging forward.
Her hand flings up and around. The small blade in her grip finds its mark. His knife-wielding fist strays, thumping into my jaw, the blade missing by inches.
Knife sunk deep into his carotid, Evie twists her wrist, stepping closer. Then a little closer again.
Shock floods his widened eyes. His grip falls from my hair, the knife in his hand clattering to the floor. He fumbles for her wrists. His face breaks. “Butte?—”
He hits his knees.
She bends, following his movements as she holds his gaze. “This is how this story ends. Your life for Joshua’s. Now we are even.”
Evie jerks back, the knife dislodging from his neck. Gripped in her hand, it drips crimson dots to the floor at her feet.
Blood spurts from his neck with every heartbeat.
Suffocating on the gurgling red spilling from his mouth, he falls onto the floor.
Evie drops the knife, her body trembling as she stares at her bloodied hand for a beat. With a wobbly cry, she turns back, falling on her knees.
“Oh my god.” Her hands claim my face. “Cal, are you alright?”
I wrap my hands around her fingers and press my forehead to hers. “I’m alright, mo ghràdh.” I tug the blade from my shoulder and blood seeps through, soaking my sleeve. It’s not as bad as I thought.
“Did you find Reese?” she says, leaning back.
