AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And then what do I hear when I get there? Somebody calling out your name, Millie, Millie. And I say to myself, holy shit, that’s the name of the girl who survived the flames. So I ask them if your surname is Green, and it is, and I ask if you survived a fire, and you had … So I looked at you. I looked at you and tried to make you see. But you wouldn’t. You refused. You rejected me and I was so fucking torn up about it I had to go and get shitfaced that day. You did that to me, Millie. Why couldn’t you just accept me for who I was?”
For a moment he looks almost human, his lips quivering, tears rising to his eyes as he stares at me.
He’s a lunatic. He means every freaking word. He’s unhinged.
“I was a child,” I gasp. “I didn’t know who you were. Surely you can see how wrong that is?”
“Wrong?” he cackles. “We were bound in blood and flames. There’s nothing more right than that.”
“So this is what you were talking about?” Markus says, turning so that he stands sideways, half facing me and half facing Finn.
He glares at me, but behind it, in the depths of those perceptive green eyes, I see something.
A plan.
Just go with it, his looks roars.
“All those times I just wanted us to be close and intimate,” Markus goes on, “and you kept saying you couldn’t give yourself to me, because you were promised to the fire. Jesus, Millie, is this what you meant?”
I glance at Finn. His eyes are wide and fascinated, his mouth hanging open.
I feel sick as I toss my hair, forcing myself to say the words.
And then what?
I trust Markus, but where is he going with this?
“I tried to fight it,” I say. “But the flames called to me.”
I hope that sounds crazy enough.
“Fuck’s sake,” Markus snaps. “Fine, then. If you want the fire so much, you can have it. Take her. Come and get her.”
Finn flinches for a moment. He moves as if to look around at his goons, and I sense that he does this when his grip on reality becomes particularly tenuous, as though he needs to check with them that whatever he’s doing is the right thing—or whatever breed of right they ascribe to.
“Please,” I say, hating the words, hating this whole giant mess. “I need the flames, Finn. I’m sorry. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have fought it. But I’m done pretending. I need the flames. I need the blood.”
What am I saying?
Finn walks toward us like a man possessed.
A man with an eagle tattooed on his neck takes a step forward. “Boss, you might not want to—”
“The flames,” I yell, raising my voice over his. “I can feel them. They’re burning me. They’re scorching me up. They’re taking me.”
“The flames,” Finn repeats as though caught in a spell. “They’re burning me … they’re scorching me up … they’re taking me …”
“I’m done with this,” Markus snaps. “You two deserve each other.”
He takes a step forward, as though meaning to walk past Finn and toward his Chevy. His acting is so good that for a moment I believe he’s really going to stride away and leave me here.
But at the last moment, he snaps, moving so quickly it’s like he’s the wind, a force of nature.
Finn gasps as Markus bulk surges toward him.
Lava’s barks rise louder.
A gunshot goes off, echoing all around us.
Somebody screams.
And then I realize it’s me.
I’m the one screaming.
Because Markus is bleeding.Chapter Twenty-ThreeMarkusI grab his wrist and redirect his aim at the last second, the gunshot hitting me in the upper arm instead of the center mass of my body. I feel it tear my skin and hear it hit the ground behind me, and I think, Thank fucking God. The thought comes to me in a flash as my body move in autopilot, the pulsing flare in my arm nothing compared to my deafening need to protect my woman.
With a roar, I drag his wrists upward so that it snaps audibly. He yelps and stumbles backward, and I use the momentum to swing him around, still holding onto the gun, and throw his legs into the man with the eagle tattoo on his neck.
“Fuck,” the man grunts, when both of them go toppling down.
I grab the gun—raise it.
The men leap on me and with a violent punch knock it from my hand.
I make to dive for it, but so do the other men and soon we’re lost in a tangle of confused limbs and violence and mayhem.
Somewhere Lava is barking, somewhere Millie is screaming, somewhere, somewhere … but all I know is the whirring closeness of the fight, my fists lashing out despite the throbbing in my arm.
I duck a sweeping right hook and then come up with two vicious jabs to a stomach, pausing too long and taking a solid jab to my jaw.
