Page 154 of The Defender
No. I won’t die. I refuse.
I had too much to live for and too much I hadn’t done yet. I wasn’t going to let some deluded boy with a sick, parasocial obsession murder me before I saw my friends get married or hit the peak of my career or told Vincent I loved him.
The realization tore through me as surely as a bullet through the chest.
I loved him.I loved him.If the painful longing of the past two months hadn’t made that clear, standing at death’s door did. Vincent was the only thing on my mind. If I died, he would be my biggest regret; if I lived, he would be my biggest reward.
We hadn’t come this far only to make it this far.
Iwasgoing to get out of this. Somehow.
“If you don’t want him to hurt, you wouldn’t do this,” I said. The blade scraped against my skin with every syllable, but I forced myself to continue. “He’ll never forgive you.”
“He’ll be upset in the short run, but he’ll understand in the long run. He’ll thank me for saving him when no one else would do it.”
“No, he won’t.” My hand slowly inched up.Keep him distracted. “You said yourself he was willing to transfer to Chicago for me. That means giving up the Premier League. If he’s willing to turn his back onthe most important thing in his lifeto be with me, do you think he’ll ever forgive you for taking me away forever? You won’t be his friend anymore. You’ll be his enemy.”
“Shut up,” Seth snapped. “I know what you’re doing. It won’t work.”
But I could hear a trace of doubt in his voice, and his hold wavered for a fraction of a second.
I didn’t think. I acted on pure instinct and jammed my elbow into his solar plexus as hard as I could. At the same time, I stomped on his foot, turned, and punched him in the face.
The punch was unnecessary, but it was satisfying as hell.
Seth howled. His knife clattered to the ground, and I kicked it under the counter, out of his reach, before I ran toward the exit. Adrenaline pumped in my veins, narrowing my vision to the rectangular doorway.
All I had to do was make it past the living room and through the entryway. Once I was outside, I could find help.
Almost there. Almost?—
A hand grabbed my ankle. I stumbled and managed to brace myself with my elbows before I could smash face first into the floor, but I didn’t get a chance to reorient myself before Seth was on me again, more pissed than ever.
“Youbitch,” he snarled, pressing his forearm across my throat.
A lightheaded rush mixed with icy tendrils of terror. “Help!” I screamed. The sound was thin and choked, but I was beyond caring. “Someone, help?—”
A heavy hand clapped over my mouth. His arm pressed tighter. Dark spots danced in front of my eyes, and the world dimmed as I fought for air.
Tears blurred my vision.
This was it. I’d tried my best, but this was how it was going to end.
I love you.
I sent the thought out to the universe, hoping Vincent would receive it somehow. I’d been so afraid of rejection that I’d held off on admitting it even to myself, and now, I’d never get a chance to say it to him.
The tears slipped down and scalded my cheeks. If only I hadn’t been in denial for so long. If only I had a little more time, and?—
Something, or someone, knocked Seth’s weight off me. Another cry filled the kitchen, followed by a sickening crunch of bone and a high-pitched scream of pain.
I coughed and gasped for air. My lungs burned from the sudden influx of oxygen, and I was so dizzy that I didn’t notice anyone else approach until strong arms wrapped around me. A hand cradled the back of my head, and a voice cut through the fog, panicked yet heartbreakingly familiar.
“It’s okay. I’m here. I got you.” Vincent pressed his mouth to my forehead, his breaths ragged. “You’re okay. It’s okay.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was me.
He’s here.I was alive, and he was here, and I…and he…
A sob tore loose from my throat. I remained on the floor but clung to him, too drained to do anything except hold on like he was the only thing keeping me afloat.
