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As I trudge along the dark path, illuminated only by shards of moonlight that break through the canopies of live oaks, I vow to stay strong when I see her face.
What I don’t expect, as I approach her door, is to hear the gut-wrenching scream.
27
Greyson
It happens before I can even process it, the energy of wrath taking hold of my body at the blur of frantic movement spilling from the side of the house as I see a man run in the direction of the woods behind us.
Without even knowing why, I take off after him, my legs propelling me faster than I’ve ever run as I follow him into the thicket across the lane dotted with houses enveloped by trees.
Some high-pitched groan is ripped from him as he turns briefly to see me chasing him, reaching into his pocket as I close the gap, running so hard that I barely feel the dusty earth beneath me.
As he begins to pivot as if to face me, his feet become entangled and he trips, allowing me to grab hold of his top. I see the glint of metal but don’t realize I’m cut until I glance down and see the blood on my arm as I push him to the ground, straddling his body. Before I can stop myself, I do something I’ve never done before, nor could ever have imagined doing, but couldn’t stop if ten men were dragging me from him—I headbutt him square in the nose as my left hand reaches for his right, pinning his arm to the floor.
As blood gushes from his nose, his grip on the small switch blade loosens, and I ram his hand into the ground over and over, the blade cutting the skin of mine until he finally drops it and I’m able to bat the thing ten or so meters away with my hand.
As he struggles underneath me, I turn to see a figure approaching, relief flooding me as I realize it’s her. I cock my fist, thoroughly possessed by some vicious animal I don’t recognize, and aim for the nose which I already suspect is broken, delivering one punch and then another and then another, blood now smothering my fingers as I hear a voice and a few moments later, a scream from behind us.
“Grey!”
Pinning the man’s neck to the floor, I turn to see Indie running up to us, holding her phone up to her ear as she shouts words, directions to someone.
Police, I assume. In her other hand, she’s holding a large kitchen knife which shakes visibly as she approaches, her eyes wide.
“Grey!”
“Are you okay?!” I shout as she gets closer, but she doesn’t answer, instead speaking into the phone.
“I’ll stay on the line,” she says, her voice a tremor, as I turn to look at the man, not moving but for some moans and the twisting of his neck. I take my weight off him, grabbing him by the arm as I turn him over, pulling both hands high up being his back so that they’ll pull out of their fucking socket if he tries to move.
I straddle the backs of his legs, holding his hands in place as I restrain myself from doing what I want to—and that is to pummel his face into the ground until there’s nothing left of it but a bloody mess.
To stain the earth with his blood.
I’ve never felt the desire to commit murder before.
I could do it easily.
In fact, I want to.
“Are you okay?”
“Your arm!” she exclaims, dropping to the ground beside me, her hands finding the cut. It’s not deep. I knew it hadn’t gone deep when it entered. There’s some blood trickling down my arm onto my hand which is a little more cut up, but again, nothing too deep.
“Stay back,” I order, afraid he could try to get free, though the instruction is ignored.
“Oh my God, your hand.” She touches the bloody skin as I twist my neck to lock eyes with her and see the tears streaming down her ashen face.
“Do you know him?” I ask.
“No.”
The sight of the distress swathing her innocent features doesn’t help to stay my murderous thoughts which currently feel like a tidal wave I’m powerless to stop. “EMS are on the way,” she shudders, the large kitchen knife quivering in her hand.
“Put it down, Indie.”
She puts it down behind her, inspecting my wounds with her eyes and fingers before staring down at the groaning man who curses a few times, trying to get away, but way too weak to be able to undo my hold on him.
