Page 162 of Barinov

I don’t give him time to recover. My fingers hook under the rim of his mask and rip it free before he can stop me. I jam it over my own face just in time as the next round of O’Malley’s smoke rolls in. The burn begins to dull. Not gone, but enough that I can fucking catch a breath.

Cal gasps, hands wrapping around his own throat in a panic as he fights for air.

“How’s that feel, fucker?” I snarl through the mask.

I push to my feet, lungs dragging in steadier air as I grab the bat again and swing low, aiming for legs instead of heads this time.

Someone drops. Not about to stick around to see who.

A red flare bleeds across the sky, a neon sign pointing the way. I break into a sprint. The pounding of the guys’ footsteps fading behind me as I burst through the final wall of smoke.

I reach the treeline and collapse against the rough bark of an oak, ripping my mask off to suck in the cool air. My damn lungs screaming with every inhale.

“That was fun to watch,” a low, honeyed drawl echoes though the shadows as Caleb Briggs steps into the light. He tips his hat to me. “Howdy, Barinov.”

I blink hard, trying to claw my way through the suffocating burn of O’Malley’s smoke.

Two cowboys flank him. Or maybe four. My lungs are pleading for oxygen and my vision is too damn fuzzy to lock onto a single target.

All I see is a shifting, repeating blur of flannel, dark denim, and snake-skin boots. Same build. Damn near same everything. Except the one on the right is a little taller, and the other one’s got a ball cap turned backward instead of a Stetson.

I wipe my face with a shoulder, but the world stays tilted.

“Let me guess,” I cough, pushing off the tree. “Your brothers?”

The one on the left flicks his wrist. A whip cracks through the air like a gunshot. The tip of it slashes across and bites into my bicep.

“Fuck!” I grit my teeth as the heat flares. “The hell was that—”

I don’t get to finish. The taller one on the right moves with the fluid speed of a rattle-snake with a lasso circling through the air. Before I can duck, the rope cinches around my throat. Fucker yanks and I’m dragged forward like a goddamn steer.

“Tell me, Lex,” Briggs says, his boots stomping toward me. “The hallucinations started yet?”

“‘Cause if so,” the one who whipped me mutters with a cruel glint in his golden-brown eyes, “we’re about to have a lot more fun.”

“Fuck,” I choke out, desperately shoving my fingers between the coarse hemp and my windpipe. “You.”

“I’ll take that as a no,” Briggs huffs. “No worries. We can fix that.”

He nods to his brother holding the rope. “Hang his ass up, Ty.”

The word what dies in my throat as Ty tosses the loose end over a thick branch and pulls. My boots leave the ground. I’m dangling on my tiptoes, the rope digging my own fingers into my damn neck. My visions frays, shadows curling in my periphery.

“You made it through Mac’s smoke quicker than we planned to be honest.” Briggs paces in front of me as the three of them watch me struggle. “Figured your mind would’ve started eating itself by now.” He leans in, his voice dropping. “But that’s alright ‘cause we brought you a little something to speed up the process.”

The moonlight catches the needle of a syringe.

“W-what?” I wheeze, my toes frantically scratching at dirt for a purchase that isn’t fucking there.

Briggs jams the needle into my neck. A flash of heat floods my system, blurring my vision and sending a lighting-bolt of agony through every nerve ending. He nods again. Ty yanks the rope harder and hoists my body fully into the air.

“Dead man swinging,” the one with the ball cap laughs.

My hands claw at the rope while my feet kick at the empty air. The three of them laugh at my desperation. I manage to lash out, my boot aimed at Briggs’s face, but he catches it mid-air. He drives his elbow into my knee with a crack, sending a fresh wave of fire up my hip.

“Fight it, Lex!” Briggs snarls, his face inches from mine. “You want Bella back? Then you have to fucking fight it.”

I lock eyes with him. The world now spinning in shades of red and black. He nods to the one clutching the whip. As the guy rears back to skin my ass alive, something inside me finally snaps.