Page 132 of Fatality

The thought reignites the anger burning beneath the panic. If anything, it only confirms what I already know.

He deserves whatever I have planned for him.

For a full five minutes, I don't move. The adrenaline refusing to fade.

“Running out of breath, troublemaker?” His voice rings out from the entrance of the alley. “So, you found my weak spot. Congrats.”

Evren takes a step forward, emerging into the dim light of the street. The red streaks in his hair catch the light, along with the rings on his fingers, as he cracks his neck with both hands.

Panic claws at my chest, and my body goes rigid.

How did he—?

I can't believe it.

“But now, I have to find yours.” The threat is delivered so calmly that it feels even worse. “And I won't be gentle about it.”

I spin around and run but I make it exactly one step.

His hand shoots out, tangling in my hair at the base of my skull. He yanks me backward, causing me to stumble and fall at his feet.

“There.” He pauses, his hand tightening in my hair. “This is your place.”

A chill races down my spine, but it's quickly swallowed by anger and instinct.

I wrench against his hold, but his grip remains unyielding.

His free hand reaches out and brushes lightly over the pulse at my throat.

The gesture would almost feel tender if not for the situation I'm in.

Next, his knuckles trail along my jaw.

With that, his thumb brushes over my lower lip, it presses down just enough to make me tense.

“You’re lucky,” he snarls, “that I need you to fix what you destroyed.”

“What?” I finally manage to say. “I won’t fix shit!”

A brief pause.

He laughs, again.

Always that fucking laugh.

Unhinged and dangerous.

I don't even know if it's genuine, but it sends a shiver through me, tightening every muscle until I can barely breathe.

“You will,” he says. “Whether you like it or not, you’re coming with me, or I’ll chain you to my hood at the next race.”

My eyes widen as genuine fear spreads across my face.

A race, the speed, that night with Kyle.

I try to push myself up, to twist away, my heels scraping helplessly against the asphalt, but I can't without tearing out half my hair.

“You’re a monster!”