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“Chop. I swear if you—” My blood curdles and my heart stops.
“Relax, she doesn’t have to get hurt. You can save her, just tell me to hurt the boy instead.” I hear Addison scream in the background and immediately start rushing for my bike.
“You can’t have it all, Skid. Make a choice.”
“Skid, you choose Charlie. Choose him,” I hear Addison yelling in the background.
“Shut up, bitch!” The loud crash and ear-splitting scream that comes next sets my rage on fire.
“What’s goin’ on?” Jessie asks when I quickly tuck my phone away and start my engine.
“Chop’s fuckin’ got her.” I see the fear on his face when he looks across to Troj before I take off and head full throttle toward the house. The engines that roar behind me confirm that my brothers are right there with me.
Ilay on my side, my cheek pressed against the floor from where he struck me so hard and made the chair topple over.
“Sounds like your fuckin’ hero is on his way. Will he get here in time?” Chop presses the tip of the knife he’s holding so it indents the cheek that’s facing upward. It still throbs from the impact the back of his hand made against it, and blood starts to trickle as he twists the sharp blade into my skin.
“Please don’t hurt my little boy. Please.” All I can do is beg and try to reason with this monster.
Chop lifts me and the chair back up as if we’re weightless, then starts pacing in front of us again.
“All I did was prove that he didn’t love her as much as I did. I would never have let anyone hurt her.” He shakes his head and although what he’s saying makes no sense at all, I know I have to try and keep him engaged.
“Chop, please listen to me. You can’t hurt my little boy.” My eyes flick between him and Charlie, who still has his eyes squeezed tight.
“That’s where you're wrong. I can do anythin’ I want.” Chop rushes toward him and starts shaking him, and the chair, so violently I scream at the top of my lungs hoping someone hears.
“Open your eyes, boy!” Chop shouts in his face. “Don’t be a fuckin’ pussy. Open your eyes.”
“He’s scared. Please, stop.” The knife is still in the hand Chop’s clinging to Charlie’s shirt with, and the blade is dangerously close to his face.
“Open your fuckin’ eyes!” he screams like a maniac. “Skid’s not gonna save ya. He can’t always be the fuckin’ hero… He—” My breath catches in my throat when Skid’s nephew comes rushing in out of nowhere. Charging at his father’s back and trying to pull him away. Chop moves fast, spinning around and plunging the knife he’s holding straight into Tommy’s gut.
“Charlie, keep your eyes shut. Donotopen your eyes!” I scream as I watch Tommy stare at his father in shock before his eyes drop to the blood that’s pouring from his side.
“Tommy?” Chop remains still, shock and confusion on his face as his son stumbles back and falls against the kitchen cabinet.
“Tommy.” He says his son’s name again as the knife drops from his hand and yet he doesn’t go to him, he just stands there, stunned as he watches Tommy cover his wound with his hands and the blood pour through his fingers. Tommy’s skin whitens, and terrified tears run over his cheek as he continues to look up at his father in disbelief.
I want desperately to help him, but I’m still tied down.
“Dad?” Tommy shakes his head helplessly, looking like a lost little boy who expects his father to save him.
“You picked the wrong side, son,” Chop tells him, his voice almost sounding weak as he trudges out the room almost in a trance. His boots leave bloody footprints across the white tiled floor as he walks out the door.
“Tommy. Stay with me,” I call over to him. I don’t know what Chop’s next move will be or where he’s gone but I just have to focus on keeping Tommy alive. I try shifting the chair I’m tied to closer to him. “Tommy, have you got a phone? We need to call an ambulance.” I look across at Charlie whose face is still scrunched up tight.
“Charlie, you're doing so good. Keep those eyes closed for me, okay?” I try holding everything together despite the fact I can barely breathe.
Tommy’s skin is turning whiter by the second, and although I’m sure he’s still conscious, he’s not responding to me now. His chest is rising and falling like he’s having a panic attack.
“Tommy, breathe. Stay with me. Please.”
“You okay? The kid’s okay too, right?” he asks, seeming oblivious to the pool of blood that’s spreading out wider across the floor.
“We’re fine. You saved us.” I fight back my tears and try to stay calm. “Tommy, we really need to get that phone,” I tell him through my tears.
“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt,” he tells me, sniffing back his tears and trying to be brave.
