Page 125 of Chasing Ruin
Pain. Not a dull ache. Not something I can grit my teeth through.
This is sharp. Violent. Lancing through my ribs, my skull, my spine. Like my entire body is splitting apart from the inside.
A broken groan tears out of my throat as I try to push myself up. My arms tremble, useless for a second before they finally lock enough to lift my weight so I can sit up.
My head throbs.
Fuck.
I blink hard, vision swimming, black creeping at the edges before it slowly—painfully—sharpens.
And then I see Joe. Crouched right in front of me. Smirking.
My stomach drops.
Joe—the fucking prospect.
Joe—thetraitor.
“Damn,” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck like this is some casual fucking inconvenience. “I think I hit him a little too hard, Scar.”
A low chuckle sounds behind him, and I feel it crawl up my spine before I even see him. Scar steps into view, casual as ever. Like this isn’t a massacre. Like Heath isn’t lying a few feet away with a hole in his skull.
My head jerks to the side. Scanning desperately.
Charlotte’s not here.Where the hell is she?
My hand shoots to the back of my jeans.
Empty. Gun gone. They disarmed me.
Fuck!
My breathing spikes, chest heaving as panic claws its way up my throat.
Then I see a van. It’s parked just beyond them blocking the west perimeter like a fucking wall.
My heart stops.
Charlotte is in that fucking van.
Scar laughs, low and amused. “I hope he’s still able to inform his prez.”
He walks toward me, boots crunching against gravel before he crouches down, gripping my jaw and forcing my face up. My vision blurs again, but I lock onto his face anyway. Burn it into my skull.
“You can still speak, right?” He tilts his head mockingly.
Joe cackles beside him.
Something inside me snaps.I lunge. Every ounce of rage, every drop of adrenaline I have left—I throw it straight at Joe. But I’m too slow. Too fucked up.
He shoves me back like I’m nothing. I hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air clean out of my lungs.
That’s when I feel the wet warmth on my shirt.
Blood. A lot of it.Fuck.
My vision tunnels, darkness creeping in again as Joe’s fist connects with my jaw.
