Page 132 of Vengeful
I stumble toward her. “Bells!” My voice cracks. “C'mon, pretty girl, open those eyes.” The words come out wet, metallic.“Gage! Where the fuck are you?” The silence answers, pressing against my eardrums.
The truck tilts beneath me. Or maybe it's just me tilting. Black ink bleeds into the corners of my vision, spreading inward like spilled coffee on paper.
“No, fuck.” Each breath tears through my lungs. In. Out. In. Out. Sweat drips into my eyes, mixing with the blood. Five more steps. My legs give out, knees hitting metal with a crack that echoes through my bones. Five feet still between us. Her fingers aren't moving.
I stretch my arm toward her, fingers trembling, grasping at air five inches short of her blood-matted hair. “Bells?” Her face is turned to the wall, one cheek pressed against twisted metal, lips parted slightly.
The truck's interior pulses, darkening at the edges like a vignette filter. My head drops forward, chin hitting my chest. I force it back up, blinking hard, but the darkness keeps closing in.
Heavy footsteps crunch through broken glass. Black tactical boots appear inches from my face. Gloved hands slide under Bellamy's limp shoulders, lifting her away as my cheek slams against cold metal.
Everything goes black.
