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“Fuck!” I scream, flopping onto my back and gripping my thigh.
I turn my head to see what the hell just happened, and Caz is standing just a few steps away. There’s a trickle of blood dripping down the back of his head that wasn’t there before. He’s facing a man in a distressed brown fedora who’s holding a thick, black club. Caz glares at the club before staring into the man’s eyes.
“If you’re going to have the audacity to hit me,” Caz growls, “At least be smart about it and finish the job.”
“Oh, shut up, you pussy,” the man snarls at him, and he’s missing teeth. A lot of them, clearly, because his words sound like they’re coming out the mouth of a snake. The man withdraws a gun from his holster, but before he can lift it in the air, Caz reaches for the club to distract him. The man punches him, but Caz eats the blow, tackling him to the ground and pouncing on top of him.
Picking up the club, Caz raises it in the air and brings it down, hitting the man in the face with it repeatedly. Blood spatters onto his clothes and his face, thewhack, whack, whackgetting louder and louder. Even so, Caz doesn’t stop. He hits him so many times the man’s face is nothing but a bloody pulp by the time he’s done.
Tossing the club aside, Caz pulls himself to a stand before picking up the gun the man had and pointing it at his chest. Two loud bangs sound off, two bullets through the man’s chest, and Caz steps away, tucking the gun in his back pocket before usingthe forearm of his jacket to wipe away some of the blood from his face.
He then turns to me, offering a bloody hand. This is the third time I’ve seen his ruthless side, and each time has gotten worse. What the hell will it be next time? Slicing someone’s skin off bit by bit?
“Let’s go,” he orders. I clutch his hand, allowing him to help me up. We stagger toward the trees as more guns pop off.
“What about the others?” I ask.
“They know how to protect themselves. This is a regular day for us.”
“A regular day? Are you serious?”
He says nothing as he helps me through the forest. The banging noises echo before fading, but Caz doesn’t stop, and I’m curious if he knows where the hell we’re going or if he’s just moving as far away from the chaos as possible.
The pain in my leg is becoming numb, and I don’t think that’s a good sign. What if I lose my leg? No, I can’t lose my leg here! I never asked to come to this place.
“Can we stop to check my leg? Maybe we can take it out now,” I insist.
“I’d advise against that. I take it out now, and you’ll probably bleed to death before we make it somewhere safe.”
“How do you know?”
“I can tell,” he says. “It’s too close to your artery.”
“Well, I’m not sure I can walk much longer.”
“Do your best.”
“Do you even know where we’re going?”
He ignores me, and I stop walking.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Whereare we going?” I demand.
“Would you just come on?”
“Listen, I’m in a lot of fucking pain right now, I’m in a world I don’t belong in, and I’ve watched you and your family kill several people like their lives mean nothing to you! Tell me where we’re going or I’m not taking another step!”
He frowns at me as if I’ve lost my mind, and perhaps I have lost it because seriously. How can any of this be real? I’m convinced I’m still dreaming, and that I’m in a lucid state that’s hard to pull out of.
I don’t have time for this shit.
I fold my arms across my chest and raise a brow.And you think I do?
His gaze narrows, as if I’m challenging him. Maybe I am. I’m sick of this. The demands, the violence, all the damn pain! I’ve been in pain since I landed in this place, and it’s only been close to seventy-two hours.
“Fine. Have it your way.” Caz marches toward me and picks me up, cradling me in his arms. I fight against him: one because I don’t want him manhandling me, and two because I’m not your average-sized woman. I’m what they callthickon Earth. Despite it, he holds on tight, and I gasp when I feel like I’m about to fall, but his hands are secure around me.
