Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“It’s them,” Abel whispered. “This is some Walking Dead bullshit. Mad and I just rewatched that show.”
Too bad it was fucking working. The tiny hairs along my neck stood up, and my heart started pounding.
My head whipped sideways before I could even make a conscious decision, and I narrowed my eyes at a fourth whistling sound. But I couldn’t see anyone.
I balled my hands into fists, and my breaths came out in short puffs that misted in the air.
“Oh, we’ve struck gold,” someone drawled. Mister Colt, maybe. His Texas accent was unmistakable.
“Aye.” That was Ryan. “Sure reeks of brats and baby sluts.”
I clenched my jaw.
At long last, one man came into view when he emerged from the trees. Jameson.
“Who has the spiked gloves?” he asked.
Fuck! I hated vampire gloves. It better be a mind trick.
“I do.” Oh God, Griffin’s voice fucking shook me. Low and filled with danger.
I licked my lips nervously and repositioned my foot for a quick pounce. The underbrush was suddenly alive with too much rustling.
Two more men emerged—Colt and Ryan.
They were maybe twenty feet away.
Why weren’t they panting and wiping sweat off their foreheads? I needed them exhausted. Like old people were supposed to be.
“Look what we have here.”
I gasped; someone was way too close, fucking behind us, and then Angel screamed loudly. As shock tore through me, I still managed to jump into action, and I shot right up and spun around. Justin, Kit, and I ran for Angel right away. It was Madigan—then Griffin too! They grabbed at Angel, who didn’t waste time thrashing like she was being electrocuted.
“Pick on someone your own size, you goddamn ogres!” she yelled.
“Get her away from them and run!” I shouted. A second later, I crashed into Madigan, and he toppled over with a grunt. Justin and Kit attacked Griffin, and I scrambled to my feet and kicked and smacked at Madigan as he tried to get ahold of me. “I don’t fucking think so,” I snarled. “Run!”
The others were getting closer, and we had to split right fucking now unless we wanted to get captured in the first attack. Justin yelled orders for us to go north, and Angel and Kit pushed at Griffin.
“Slippery little fucker,” Madigan spat out.
I sucked in a quick breath and narrowly escaped his grasp, and then we were finally sprinting out of the bushes and into the darkness.
“Get them!” Ryan growled.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” Angel chanted breathlessly.
“Faster!” Kit panted.
He and I took the lead, and we leaped over a fallen tree at the same time.
Holy shit, my blood was pumping through me now, with a generous dose of adrenaline. It was so fucking freeing. I couldn’t describe it. It was like flying.
“Fuck!” That was Justin. Kit and I came to a screeching stop and turned back, and— “Let go of me,” Justin growled. “Motherfucker!”
We watched as he delivered a swift punch to Ryan’s gut, and I knew he’d need backup. Griffin, Colt, and Jameson were right behind them, so Kit and I took off. So did Angel and Abel.
“We want Abel or Justin right now,” one of the Tops barked out.
“Fucking try!” Justin shouted.
We all kind of slammed into one another, and I hauled in a quick breath. There were hands everywhere, and they were way too fucking grabby. An arm snaked around my middle as I shoved at Madigan. Kit yelled at someone behind me, Madigan sent Abel to the ground by tripping him, and Angel launched herself at Ryan. Go for her feet. Get him! Let me go! Watch out for Kit’s pinches—I fucking swear, boy! Pin him to the ground. I groaned in pain as someone delivered a punch to my side, and it made me goddamn livid. I thrashed at whoever was holding me; it wasn’t Griffin, ’cause he was the fucker who’d punched me. I reached for him and pounded my fists against his chest, and he cursed and attempted to trap my arms against my sides.
“Help me!” Abel yelled.
“Ouch—you asshole!”
“We got him. Keep the others away!”
No!
“Shackle the little shit,” Madigan snapped.
Just as I was about to wrench free, Griffin came up to me, grabbed me in a chokehold, and shot me a furious glare that punched all the air out of my lungs.
I froze and choked, utterly trapped in his deathly stare. He was so close too, our noses almost touching.
Oh my God, save me, fuck me, take me, help!
“You’re next,” he whispered in a rough voice.
With that said, he—or someone else—shoved me down on the ground, and I cried out. Motherfucking rock! I rolled over as my eyes welled up. That damn rock was gonna create a bruise along the back of my thigh. Holy fuck, it hurt. But even so, I didn’t get scared. Just angrier. Fuck, it was Colt. He’d been the one holding me, and he’d made sure I’d gone down ass-first, not head or neck. And it should reassure me, comfort me, that they thought about safety even in the heat of the moment, but I wanted to get scared!