Page 37 of Devour

I don’t stop running. I break through a line of thick brush and see them.

That motherfucker Daniel has Saylor against a tree with his forearm pinning her neck in place. Her dress is ripped at the shoulder, and it’s hiked up her thighs where his hand is beneath it. She’s clawing at his arm and kicking.

His mask is off, and he’s licking along her face.

“Hold still, bitch. I just want to see what Hollister’s been so fucking obsessed with. You’re going to remember my face when he finally fucks you.” His hand moves further between her legs. “We all know you’re going to be his. Let’s see just how good this pussy is. I’ll be quick, and then he can use my cum to fuck what’s left.”

Saylor’s eyes find me over his shoulder. Her face is streaked with tears and dirt. It looks like he might have hit her from the way one of her eyes is puffy. She keeps fighting as she stares at my face hidden by my mask. I can tell she knows it’s me.

“Axl!” she screams again.

I rip him off her by the back of his neck and throw him sideways into the dirt. Saylor stumbles off the tree, and she falls to her knees, crying.

“Run, baby.” I motion for her to go. “Hide.”

The fucker gets up and rushes me, knocking me back into the tree. “You’ve always been a goddamn prick, Axl.”

“You’re so fucking dead, motherfucker.” I should have ended this bastard earlier when he talked shit about my girl.

“We’ll see about that.” He swings at me and connects with my jaw. My head snaps to the side, and I taste blood in my mouth. He hits harder than I expected.

That’s the last free shot he gets.

I catch his next punch and twist his arm behind his back. He grunts and tries to pull free, but I drive my knee into his spine. He drops to the ground, and I’m on top of him before he can roll away.

I hit him. And I keep hitting him. His nose breaks under my knuckles, and his hands come up to cover his face. I don’t give a fuck. I grab his wrists and pin them in the dirt and drive my forehead into his already broken nose. He screams like the little bitch he is.

“No one fucking touches what’s mine.” I grab a fistful of his hair and slam his head into the ground. “You think you get to survive that?” I slam it again. “You think you get to walk my fucking earth after you touched her?” I slam him again. “You stupid fuck.”

He’s choking on his own blood. I stand up and look down at him. He’s trying to curl onto his side. His face is a mess. Both eyes are swelling, and his nose is sideways, and there’s blood in his teeth.

I stomp on his right leg just below the knee. The crack echoes off the trees, and his scream can probably be heard by everyone out here. Another Dove in a white dress approaches, and then she starts crying and runs the other way. He grabs his broken leg with both hands, and the sound coming out of him is like a wounded animal.

“I’d love to take days killing you.” I crouch down next to his head. “But I’ve got to get my girl.”

I grab his jaw with one hand and the back of his skull with the other and twist until I feel the snap. His body goes limp. I let go, and the useless piece of shit’s head drops into the dirt.

I stand up and spit on the fucker’s body.

My hands are covered in blood. I wipe my hands as best as I can on the dead dipshit’s shirt. My knuckles are split open again over the gashes from the arena. My entire body aches worse than before.

I don’t give a shit about any of it. My girl is somewhere in these woods, crying and terrified, and the only thing that matters is fucking finding her.

CHAPTER 16

SAYLOR

Ican’t stop fucking shaking.

I’m crouched behind a fallen tree with my arms wrapped around my knees. My feet are cut from running through a bunch of twigs. The moss is cold and wet against my bare legs. My dress is ripped, and the bark digs into my spine.

He was going to rape me. If Axl hadn’t appeared, that’s what would have happened. The drugs have made my head fuzzy. My body doesn’t feel connected to me, and I keep seeing that asshole in my head.

Every sound is louder than it should be. A branch snaps somewhere to my left, and I clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from crying out.

There are footsteps approaching. They’re heavy and fast, crunching through the brush and coming right toward me. I don’t know if it’s Axl, so I can’t call out to whoever it is.

I press myself lower behind the log and pull my knees tighter to my chest. My hands are shaking, and I can’t keep them still, but I feel around and find a rock that’s the size of my palm. I grip it and prepare to use it to fight whoever is coming.