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CHAPTER43
CHRISTY
Everything happens so fast.
One minute I’m standing between the two warring sides and the next I’m being lifted off my feet and dropped beside one of the stone pillars on the other side of the courtyard.
“You stay out of the way, Christy! Do not intervene!” Leon instructs, before spinning on his feet and diving back into the frey.
“Wait!” I call after him, knowing that I have to let this happen, and hating myself for it.
How can I watch the people I care about rip each other to shreds? How can I pretend their pain doesn’t affect me? How can I just stand here and do nothing?
“Stop!” I shout. “Just stop!”
But no one hears me.
The sound of their cries are deafening.
Their rage is palpable.
It’s thick and cloying. It’s a chokehold around my throat.
My cries go unheard, my pleas are ignored and I’m forced to watch the carnage unfold, praying and hoping that this is over quickly.
“You little prick!” Beast roars as Konrad punches him in the jaw.
Flashes of movement merge with sounds of violence, all of it mixing up into a cacophony of carnage. My sister punches Jakub, his head snapping back from the force. Leon ducks beneath Ford’s fist and lands an uppercut to his jaw. Konrad receives a kick to his stomach, Carrick’s foot like a sledgehammer.
I catch glimpses of Beast, Kate and Ford as they fight. They’re my family.
I see Leon, Jakub and Konrad unleash their monsters. They’re my heart.
I watch Arden and Carrick seek their revenge. They’re strangers.
It’s five against three, unfair odds at the best of times, let alone battling against some of the best bare knuckle fighters in the world. Yet, despite the odds, The Masks hold their own, landing punches and giving as good as they get. It tears me apart watching this all unfold. I feel every punch, every split lip and broken rib, every black eye and swollen cheek. When Jakub is thrown to the floor, Ifeelthe pain of the deep gash that splits open his skin from his eyebrow to his hairline. I can’t stop the sob that escapes my mouth as his eyes roll back in his head from the impact, knocked out cold. I want so badly to go to him, but I have to keep up the pretence. I have to be the woman who hates them. I have to.
Now it’s five against two.
Fists fly, bones crack, skin splits, bruises bloom and blood spills.
The sharp glint of a knife flashes in the air, and Konrad’s scream rips through my chest, the cut to his face mirroring the one I feel across my fleshy, tormented heart. My hand slams over my mouth as my knees buckle, dropping me to the floor.
There’s so much blood.
It pours from their faces, drips over their clothes and splatters the cobblestones.
So much blood. So much violence. So much hate.
I want to fucking scream. I want to rip my hair out.
I want them to stop. Just please fucking stop!
But still they fight.
On and on it goes, a battle with no end, a war with no victors, only countless victims. And just like The Weeping Tree I bear witness to it all. I stand here and watch helplessly, knowing I can’t step in, that I can’t do anything to stop it. Worse than that, Ihaveto let it happen.
Leon and Konrad do what they can to protect Jakub, but their energy is waning. No man can take the hits they have and keep standing. Their fight is admirable. Their protective instincts are strong, but it doesn’t matter.
