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22
Twigs crunch beneath the soles of my sneakers as I push my way through the thick brush of the forest, stomping my feet and absolutely fuckingseething. I have no idea where I’m going, only that I need to put as much distance between myself and Maddox Kessler as possible before I lose it.
The fuckingaudacityof that man. How dare he behave that way after we slept together? Nevermind the years of history between us. For him to treat me like a cheap hookup after everything we’ve been through…
I hear movement from somewhere behind me, gritting my teeth and balling my hands into fists at my sides.
Of coursehe’d fuck up epically and then come running after me. It’s like the party at the lodge all over again- but if he thinks I’ll forgive him as easily this time, he’s sorely mistaken. I won’t allow Madd to treat me like crap over and over then redeem himself with a half-assed apology. I don’t even want to hear it.
“I said fuckoff, Madd!” I shout as I whip back around, expecting to see him tailing me.
But I don’t.
I don’t see anyone. Instead, I hear the loud crack of a gun firing, and almost simultaneously, searing pain like I’ve never felt before pierces my abdomen just above my navel. I slam a hand over it instinctively, something hot and wet instantly pooling beneath my hand. A helpless whine escapes my lips as the magnitude of the pain registers and I look down to see crimson blood soaking into the cotton of my white t-shirt, spilling from between my fingers.
Shockwaves of pain ripple out through my limbs and my legs give out underneath me. I crumple to my knees, still pressing a hand to the wound in my belly as my mind struggles to comprehend what’s happening.
I’ve been shot.
The hunters have found us.
Is this how it ends?
Can I warn the others before it’s too late?
Madd…
“Shit!” a voice yells out, followed by the heavy thud of footsteps pounding toward me.
Though the blood loss has me feeling woozy, I try to move.
I can’t let the hunters finish me off, not before I have a chance to warn the others.
My body doesn’t cooperate, though. Every movement is agony as I try and fail to get to my feet, looking up in a daze as someone rushes toward me, yelling for… help?
It’s not a hunter.
It’s a squad fighter.
I remember him from an earlier training drill: Luke Jenkins.
“Sloane?” he gasps as he slides to a stop in front of me, hitting his knees. “Holy shit, I’m so sorry!Fuck!” He gapes at me with wide, terrified eyes, reaching out with a trembling hand, then flinching back like he’s not sure what to do. “Help! I need help over here!”
Another set of quick footsteps pound against the earth and I look past him to see Avery sprinting our way, her face blanching when she sees me.
“It was an accident! I saw her white shirt and I thought it was a target, I swear I didn’t mean to…” Luke rushes out, but Avery is already shoving him away from me as she slides to her knees to take his place, no doubt sustaining some wicked road rash on her shins in the process.
“What thefuck, Luke?!” she snaps, glaring daggers at him. “Go get help, we need a medic!”
Luke scrambles to his feet to follow her order as Avery turns to me, taking my hand. “Sloane, it’s gonna be okay. Have you been keeping pressure on it? Here, let me take over.”
My hand falls away from my body limply as Avery replaces it with her own. I hiss a breath through my teeth at the pain of her touch, right as Ares rushes up to join us, panting and out of breath.
“What the hell happened?!” he demands, crouching down on my other side.
“That fucking idiot Luke Jenkins,” Avery growls. “Can you help me move her? We need to get her to a medic at the complex.”
Ares sweeps my hair out of my face with his fingertips, tucking it behind my ear and looking into my eyes. “Sloane, how are you doing?” he asks, more serious than I’ve ever heard him. “Think you can hold your hands over the bullet wound for me so I can carry you?”
