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It takes me a minute to realize the scream is coming from me.
I scramble to Connor on my hands and knees, slipping once on the wood floors. Connor is on his back, blood soaking his chest and shoulder and the floor around him already. I can’t tell where the wound actually is, the blood is too thick.
"Connor!" I shriek, my hands fluttering over him, not even really knowing what I’m trying to do. "Connor, stay with me! Oh God. Con—"
I scream in pain as Josh yanks my head back savagely by my hair. I reach back reflexively, gripping his wrist, desperate to stop the pain as he pulls me to my feet and back against his chest. My fingers, wet with Connor’s blood, slip on his skin.
"You. Are. Mine," he growls at my ear. Sweat and blood from his face sticks to my own and I try to cringe away.I want to be with Connor, I need to get to him!
Instincts flare and my fight finally kicks in. I draw in all of my fear and anger, and with a cry of fury, I reach back and rake my nails across Josh’s cheek at the same time I kick out against his ankle. He cries out, probably more from surprise than pain, I think, and loosens his grip enough that I can spin away from him. Without thinking, I reach down and grab the hilt of the knife, somehow still in the sheath at his hip after the tussle with Connor. I jerk it free and brandish it.
He grins, blood staining his teeth.
“You wouldn’t da—”
I slash out at him, not giving myself time to really think about what I’m doing. His eyes go wide as I feel it tear through fabric and skin and Josh yells out—definitelyin pain this time. There is absolute fury in his eyes as he stares at me, his hand flying to his side as he staggers backwards a step—right into Connor's chest. My mouth hangs open in shock. How had he gotten up after that?
Connor wraps his arms around Josh's neck, and for a minute, I'm terrified he's going to snap it, but he merely squeezes. He keeps squeezing, despite Josh's desperate clawing at his forearm, and eventually Josh's eyes slide closed and his body falls limp. Connor releases him and Josh's body falls to the floor with a thud, blood pouring from the wound in his side. I must have cut deeper than I thought, but my mind can’t really even spare a second to focus on that.
"Connor!" I gasp, running towards him just as he goes down to one knee. His entire right side is soaked with blood, his shirt stained black. "Oh God, Connor!"
Someone else bursts into the house, but I can’t tear my eyes off of Connor to see who it is or make myself even care.
"I'm…alright…"
But even as the lie leaves his lips, he collapses at my feet.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Connor
I blink my eyes open slowly, not really sure where I am or why. I feel pain, my body riddled with it, but I’m not sure of the reason, exactly…
"We've gotta stop meeting like this," a voice says from beside me, a bit hoarse and breaking at the end.
I turn my head, blinking hard a few times to finally focus my vision and see Hattie in the chair beside my bed.Talk about déjà vu.Her eyes immediately fill with tears and she throws herself at me. I grunt in pain, but squeeze her tight to my chest as everything comes flooding back: Hattie’s blood; the fight; the gun.
I've never been anywhere close to as afraid as I was when I realized that the fucker was in her house. I squeeze my eyes closed as rage boils up inside me like an animal, some clawed thing ravaging my chest with venomous claws. I pull back and cradle her face.
"Are you ok?" I search her eyes and down her body, checking for injuries. There’s a small bruise on her cheek and I swear to God I’ll hunt that fucker down and finish the job if he hit her. "Hattie, tell me,” I demand, my voice coming out harder than I mean it to.
"I'm alright," she breathes, leaning in to kiss me softly. "I'm ok, Con."
I let out a long, shaky breath, the relief flooding my chest almost painful.
"What the hell happened?"
"Josh found me," she says quietly. "Which I guess you already knew, but yeah, last night when I freaked out in the parking garage? I smelled his cologne by my car. I knew he was here, in Seattle."
"And you went to your placealoneafter that?" I ask, somewhere between incredulous and pissed the hell off.
"I wanted to check my old phone, to see if he'd left me any messages, so I had real proof to take to the police."
"And?" I grit out.
"He had.Lotsof them. I’d just figured out that things were way worse than I imagined when he walked in behind me. Apparently, he’d been watching my place for weeks, watchingme,” she corrects with a shudder, swallowing hard. She goes quiet for a minute and I rub my hands over her arms, needing to touch her. Then I remember with a nauseating clarity, and my entire body tenses.
"The blood. The blood on your neck."
