Page 133 of Cold Mercy

I stand up immediately, alarm spiking. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Maya waves a hand dismissively, catching her breath. “No, no, I'm fine. I don't need help. But, uh...your two knights in shining armor are currently trying to kill each other.”

She grimaces. “Actually, scratch that. Charles is on the ground, and Thomas looks like he is about to murder him. So yeah, we should go. Like right now.”

My stomach drops as I follow her running out of the tent across the gravel.

I see Thomas and realize with a jolt of ice in my veins that this isn't the man who smiled in the photo booth. This is the monster he's been hiding all along, the one he warned me about.

He has Charles pinned to the ground with his fist drawn back. Charles’s face is already bloodied, his lip split open, eyes dazed.

And Thomas doesn't look like he’s going to stop. He seems like he’s enjoying it.

“Thomas!” I scream, rushing forward.

He doesn't even flinch, but simply lands another punch with a sickeningly wet sound just as I reach them, and I immediately grab his arm, shoving him back with everything I have.

“What are you doing? Are you fucking insane?”

He stumbles back a step.

“He was talking shit about you,” he bites, voice rough with adrenaline. “I wasn’t going to stand there and listen to him disrespect you.”

Charles groans from the ground, struggling to push himself up, wiping a smear of blood from his nose.

“Oh please,” he spits, slurring slightly. “You’re really going to fall for that? The guy is a fucking psychopath, Soph. I called him out for being unhinged, and he proved me right.”

He glares at my back, his voice rising, bitter and ugly.

“And now what? You’re going to open your legs for him instead of the man who’s been waiting for you? You’re smarter than that.”

Thomas roars. “I will fucking kill you!”

He lunges, ready to tear Charles apart right there on the gravel. I step in front of him, planting my hand flat against his heaving chest, holding him back with a force I didn’t know I had. He stops, his anger vibrating under my palm, but he stops. I take a sharp, furious breath, then I turn around slowly to face Charles.

He’s on his knees now, looking up at me like he expects an apology or pity.

With a sharp pull of my arm, I punch him, and my knuckles meet his cheekbone with a sickening crunch that seems to echo in the silence.

His head snaps back, and he falls onto the grass again, stunned.

“I thought being friends didn't come with a bed contract,” I say, my voice furious. “If I had known you were just waiting for a payout, Charles, I wouldn't have lifted a finger. I would have let him crush you.”

Charles stares at me, mouth open, blood dripping onto his shirt.

I meet Thomas's gaze and see that the rage is still there, though it has shifted from pure fury to something quieter and more complex.

He runs his tongue over his teeth, a slow, wide, predatory smile spreading across his bloodied face. He looks terrifying, and yet, at the same time, completely and undeniably turned on.

“Don't,” I snap, pointing a finger at his chest. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asks, stepping closer, ignoring the blood on his hands.

“Like you’re proud of this. Like any of this is some twisted fantasy for you.”

“I’m proud you stood up for yourself,” he says, his voice dropping low. “I’m proud you didn’t take his shit. And yeah, fuck it. I’m always proud of you.”

I grab his tie, yanking him away from the scene, away from Maya and Charles, into the shadows of the trees.