Page 305 of Primal

Knock her out.

But fuck. Try to stop her and she’ll hate me forever.

I tuck the Halloween Special knife into my waistband. Then I catch up, reeling her in by the hood. The mask’s already in my other hand.

“Try that again,” I growl, “and I’ll tie you to me.”

Her breath comes ragged. “You wouldn’t.”

I yank the mask on.

Chapter Twenty

Payton stumbles behind me, her breath ragged, steps crowding mine.

I spin, knife out. “Back. Up.”

She glares. “Or what? You’ll stab me?”

“Tempting.”

“Jerk.” She swipes blood from her cheek—my blood, from when I carved myself up to get my head straight. “What’s the plan? Run in there and hope Derek trips on his own dick?”

“Plan’s simple.” I adjust my mask. “Kill him before he kills us.”

“Wow. Revolutionary.” She fake-gasps. “How’d you come up with that?”

“Years of practice.”

“At killing people or stalking women?”

I snort. “Both.”

‘Baby, you ain’t saving nobody. You’re just delivering her gift-wrapped.’

Vanessa again. Fucking. Hell.

I jam my thumb into the stab wound. Blood runs fresh down my arm.

“Are you nuts?” Payton snaps.

She shrugs off her hoodie. One smooth pull and her tank top’s gone too. Those tits. They look fucking obscene in that sports bra.

“Eyes up here, psycho.” She slips the hoodie back on. Uses the tank as bandage. “We’ve got work to do.”

“We could do other work.” My voice’s rougher than the bark behind me.

She cinches it until I hiss. “Down, boy. Save it for after we survive the night.”

The promise in those words—after—hits harder than any drug.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, little fox.” Her palm to my chest. “Feel that? Only you get it racing like this.”

Her eyes flash with something. Then she pulls her hand back like she’s been caught stealing.

“Good. Stay focused on that instead of actually dying.” She tightens the knot.

My shoulder screams, pain shredding the last of the drug haze. No more dead bitch yakking in my ear. Just the knife in my grip and the girl I’d follow to hell to drag her back.