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“I hope you’re okay with cremation, because there will be nothing left of you to bury.”
Tabby screeched, huddled against my empty mattress with Veraand Reggie. Andras smashed against the far wall. He collapsed onto the floor, covering his face with his fists.
Zach stalked to him, kicking him in the stomach as he lay in a fetal position. The pointy tips of Zach’s loafers cracked Andras’ bones, one rib at a time. They popped like knuckles, punctuated by Andras’ agonized screams.
“You.”
Zach stomped on his chest.
“Can’t.”
A rib this time.
“Touch.”
The ankle.
“Her.”
His throat.
“If.”
His wrist.
“You’re.”
And finally, his face.
“Dead.”
Blood gushed from Andras’ nose, spurting across the carpet. His bare chest bore matching stains and the early beginnings of nasty bruises.
Oliver stormed into the room, peeling his best friend off my ex-fencing coach. “Zach.”
Rom joined him, clutching on to his opposite shoulder. “Jesus Christ.”
Andras had stopped talking. Possibly even stopped breathing. It was hard to tell. He resembled a red bean bag. A lump that used to be a person.
Thud.
Thud, thud.
Thud.
I flinched before realizing the sound had come from my chest. My heart thrashed against its cage.
Zach shrugged off his friends, swatting them away like flies.
He rushed to me, scooping me into his arms. “Where does it hurt?”
Everywhere.
But I didn’t think Andras could survive another round of Zach’s fists and legs. Not that I cared. He just wasn’t worth the jail time.
Zach held me close to his chest. I wished I could melt into him.
I dug my nose into his skin, inhaling, not caring that my words came out garbled against him. “You came.”
