Page 80 of Shattered Souls

“I’d stop that if I were you.” Maverick advances. Synn backs up, making his way over to me. I crouch down, checking on Rayvn’s wound.

Just as I feared, it’s a stab wound. It’s deep, but nothing that a few stitches and a good flushing won’t fix. But they stabbed her—my perfect woman. I rip the cloth off of her face. She smiles, though it’s watery and interrupted by a wince of pain.

“I heard you.” She blinks slowly. Too slowly.

“Look at the happy couple.” Maverick and Synn have come to a stand off before us. Synn is dripping blood from a wound on his forearm. Maverick’s hand is coated in his blood and I notice he’s avoiding using the appendage at all.

“Maverick,” Synn warns. “You can still leave.” The exhaustion must be weighing down on Synn too. His body is sagging, breaths heavy, and the grip on his machete loose.

“I’ll leave, but I’m taking her with me.” I grab onto Rayvn tighter. She cries out with the movement of her shoulder.

“You know I won’t let you do that.”

“I always liked you, Seek. You were mysterious and dark.” He pulls a pistol from his pants, inspecting the gun as he speaks. “I knew there was something dark lurking under this fucking park.”

“Nothing dark happened under the park.” Synn tries to straighten himself, but he staggers, swaying slightly.

“Really?” He chuckles darkly. “Because you just took down those men like it was nothing.” He takes a step forward, snow crunching beneath his boot.

“I don’t want to kill you Maverick.” Synn holds firm. I delicately place Rayvn down, cringing as I see my blood coated hands. Sickness coils in my stomach knowing that some of the gore is hers.

“Great, we’re on the same page. I need her to clear my name and better my life.” He looks down to our woman and I let the anger bubble over. “Have you seen the price tag on her head? Thirty-five thousand bucks. That pays these guys to leave me alone—and then some.”

I’m on my feet, gun raised at Maverick.

“Don’t think so, freak.” The shot barks through the night as it rips a hole in my shoulder. My own gun is flung from my hand as I clutch the burning pain.

“Hayze!” Rayvn crawls, more like drags, herself towards me. I fall to my knees, eyes pinned on the bleeding hole. I thought being shot would make me cry, or yell. But I can’t stop the laughter that bubbles in my throat.

All eyes around us move to me.

“You,” my articulation is butchered. “Shot me.” My voice is deep and raspy, with a breathiness to it. I haven’t heard myself speak since I was twelve, and after twenty years, I can’t remember the sound of my voice then.

No one says anything, each face twisted into shock, other than the strange group of hit men that clutch their wounds, whimpering and crying. I touch the bleeding circular wound and bring my soaked finger to my face.

“You shot me.” I stand, fear and pain a distant memory. The only thing I can feel is that endless well of rage.

Synn saved us all those years ago. Took the brunt force of killing our parents to protect me. I have no intention of making him harbor that burden again.

I take one step towards Maverick. He falters, stumbling backwards. I’m on him in the next breath. My hands are wrapped around his neck as we tumble to the cold ground, my right hand weaker from the injury to my shoulder.

Something clanks to the floor beside me, Synn’s machete. I grab it.

I pin Maverick’s arms to the earth with my knees, but instead of pummeling his face until he too is nothing more than pulp—I bring the edge of the machete to his hair line. My stomach twists. Not from my fear, no—from the fear that seeps out of Maverick’s body.

The first swipe is glorious.

He screams, his arms thrashing under my knees. Blood pools around the blade, desperate to meet the cold air. I use my left hand to grip his back locks, and lift the skin from his scalp.

The snow around him drinks up my offering as I take his hair. His cries never stop, nor do they soften. Each swipe of the tip sends another soul shattering scream into the night, the wind carrying them off for me.

I toss the wet piece of flesh into the snow after it’s disconnected from his home–which took far too much strength to pull off. The wind whips violently at the red and white bone protruding from his head.

I get off him just in time for him to vomit.

I’m panting when I turn back towards Synn and Rayvn. He’s holding her, hands careful not to touch her back. Both sets of eyes are on me, yet neither are scared. They both look thankful—for what, I’m not sure.

I collapse.