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“Listen to me.” I kept my voice calm even though my heart was pounding. “I can help you. We can do this.”
“No.” He grabbed me by the shoulders. “Fuck!” His eyes went fierce. “Do you hear yourself? I’m not fucking hurting you.”
I held his stare and steeled myself. “Wrap your arm around my throat. You’ve done it a hundred times to those men. I’ll do the rest.” I begged him with a look. “I need you to trust me.”
I turned around and backed up against him. His whole body shook as I hooked his arm around my neck.
“It’s okay, Linc.” I kissed his forearm. “It’s going to be okay.” And then I closed my eyes and held my breath. He refused to squeeze, so I did it for him. I pushed his arm to my throat with all my strength, then locked my knees. “You just have to make them believe you did it.”
“Lyric,” I heard him say against my ear.
I pictured his smile, focused on his scent. I held my breath and waited for the darkness to swarm around me, hoped to get lost in it. Maybe I would pass out before I could feel what they had done to me. With any luck, they’d think I was already dead and leave us alone.
I’d googled it once after my bathtub incident. The brain could go up to five minutes without oxygen before there was any permanent damage. Kids did it when they threw temper tantrums, and it happened to fighters like Lincoln all the time.
Surely he knew that too. I prayed he knew that too.
Lincoln’s voice was like a song, my favorite one.I love you. I fucking love you so goddamn much.
It was like I was in the bathtub all over again. The numbness. The peace. Only this time I wanted to be saved. I didn’t want to drown in the darkness.
Malcolm’s voice broke through the darkness just as it began to seep in. “I knew you were too weak to do it.”
I felt Lincoln’s arm being pulled from around my throat. I opened my eyes, trying to bring everything into focus. Malcolm’s silhouette was like a shadow moving closer and closer. Lincoln roared behind me as the warmth from his body being pressed against mine disappeared. Two more shadows ran past me, both of them shouting.
“Now I’ll have to do it myself.” Malcolm’s voice snarled against my ear. Then there was the familiar chill of sharp steel against my skin, right at the hollow of my throat. He pressed down and the sting of my flesh being ripped open made my eyes water.
Where was Lincoln? What did they do to Lincoln?
The dark thoughts seeped into my mind, taunting me, telling me I was better off in Scotland, that I never should have left. It would have been so easy to wish I’d never gone to Tatum’s wedding, to want the security of a lonely, obedient life back. But I would have missed out on seeing my best friend on the most important day of her life. I would have missed out on every moment I had with Lincoln since then. And even though terror ripped through my veins, so did peace. Almost five years ago, Lyric Matthewsdied, and part of me died with her. The last few days made me feel alive again.
And if it all had to end right now, I didn’t regret a single moment.
The sting of the blade grew sharper. Deeper. I felt the warmth of blood trickling over my skin.
The next thing I heard was Grey’s voice against the thundering pulse in my ears. He sounded so close but so far.
“Sorry I’m late, but my driver took the long way.” A thick tension filled the air. I felt it in my bones. “Gentleman, I believe you know Caspian Donahue…”
