Page 89 of Hash

My stomach is in my throat as I swallow the bile that’s crept up. The acid burns my throat, but it’s not enough to distract me from the agonizing terror that’s flowing through my veins.

I know I can take one hit with those, but he’ll kill Cormac with one blow.

Using his being distracted to my advantage, I quickly set a screaming Cormac back down in his crib, my heart shattering into a million pieces as I watch him reach his arms out to me, begging for me to pick him back up.

Mama so wishes she could, sweet boy.

If I don’t make it through this, I hope he knows everything I did tonight was to protect him.

Tears are streaming down my face, the only outlet I can let my emotions silently have as I turn my back to Cormac and step in front of him so he’s no longer in the line of sight.

The man looks up, his eyes are manic as he smirks at me. I shudder at seeing the yellow teeth.

“This will get the message across.” He cracks his knuckles as he advances toward me.

Cormac cries louder; his screams are almost deafening.

“Shut the kid up,” he growls.

“He doesn’t have an off switch,” I hiss, anger outriding the fear because he’s putting my baby in distress. “You’re scaring him.”

“Suit yourself.” The man shrugs, moving toward the crib, his fist raised.

“No!” I scream as I watch my worst nightmare play out before my eyes.

With everything I have, I raise my arm that’s holding the wand above my shoulders and swing it as hard as I can, nailing him right in the head.

He staggers back and blinks rapidly but doesn’t fall to the ground.

“You fucking bitch,” he yells, regaining his balance.

Before I can swing again, his decorated fist makes contact with my face. My head snaps back, and I fall to the ground in front of the crib as pain radiates through my body, shocking my system. Giant black circles coat my vision as it gets fuzzier and fuzzier.

I whimper on the ground, unable to keep my eyes open any longer because the pain is too great.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I whisper, barely audible, knowing I failed him.

My mind is playing tricks on me as I hear the soft rumble of bikes in the background. It must know that noise would soothe me and put me at ease while he finishes me off.

“Goddamnit. This isn’t over, bitch. Tell your man what I said. I’ll be back. Trust me, I’ll be back.”

That’s the last thing I hear before everything goes black.

Chapter

Twenty-Two

HASH

I’m raging, but I’m not about to go into a situation blind with no backup. My brothers would kill me themselves if they found out about it, so I bang on the door of the most psychotic asshole I know.

Cyrus.

The door whips open, revealing a butt-ass naked, cranky-looking Cyrus. His hair is pointing in a million different directions. “What the fuck?”

“Let’s go.” I lift two fingers up as I jog down the stairs, taking two at a time, not bothering to look back to see if he’s following me.

“You could at least wait for me to get some pants on, asshole!” Cyrus yells after me.