Page 93
Story: Ruined
“You should’ve loved me!” She stops, turning towards them.
I try to suck in a breath, but I can barely breathe. She must have broken more than a few ribs.Breathe, you can do this,I remind myself.
“You’re mine!” Luna cries.
Blinking my eyes open, I try to focus on getting the little oxygen I can. Between the blood dripping into my eyes and the blurry vision, I can barely see Luna hitting Jace. Biting my lip, I ignore what she’s doing. I have to figure a way out of here.
My hands can’t reach the knife she dropped. I struggle, twisting around. I ignore the protest in my body. I feel weak but I can’t just watch Luna hurt them.
“You’re mine. I loved you! I would’ve made you happy!” she screams, slamming her fist into Jace’s face. He grunts as Ryker attempts to knock the chair off the ground.
“I—Oh, Jacey,” she mumbles.
My body stills as she straightens her back. All of us watch as she stomps to the kitchen searching for something.
“I could’ve made you happy, given you kids, anything you wanted. Why couldn’t you just love me back?” She hiccups. Slowly walking back to Jace, she swings a butcher knife around. “I don’t want to kill you, but I can’t stand the sight of you and her,” she hisses, pointing at me with the knife.
I have a split second to think before I pull against the zip ties around my wrist. The thing about strength is it comes out of nowhere. The human mind tells you that you can’t do something when your body knows you better.
I hated the cartel for taking me, and I hated my father for letting them. I hated myself for being weak, but this hatred is different. She’s hurting Jace because he loves me.
I look at Jace; he sits with his head held high, accepting that he’s about to die. I hate him. He’s not allowed to die.
Gritting my teeth, I pull harder against the ties, pulling harder until they finally give way. My shoulder screams in protest. But I don’t have time to think about that, not when Jace is about to die, and I haven’t even told him I loved him or Ryker.
Swallowing my pain, I struggle to my feet. My knees buckle, moments from giving out. Neither of them has noticed I’m up. Luna continues to scream at Jace while Ryker fights against his binds. Looking around, I know I don’t have time to find a proper weapon. The lamp will have to do. Limping over, I carefully unplug the ugly thing, picking it up. Shuffling to the door, I step out, gaining Ryker’s attention. His eyes widen, his lips picking up in a smile.
Shaking my head, I bite my cheek, easing my way closer until Luna stops yelling, stopping me in my tracks. Luna must sense something isn’t right because she swings around. Her mouth drops open, her fist loosening around the knife. I take my chance chucking the lamp at her.
Luna screams, the knife dropping to the ground. The lamp smashes over her face, cutting it up. My eyes zero in on the knife. Stepping forward, Luna realizes what I’m looking at. Both of us drop for the knife.
“Men fight dirty, but girls can fight dirtier. All you have to know is their weak spot,” Aunt Salem tells me. “I have a bad leg, so when I’m fighting, I keep it out of the way from an easy shot. Most don’t, they put it right in the center.”
“What’s Uncle Zane’s weak spot?” I ask, stretching my arms above my head.
“Besides me, his nose. He’s had that thing broken multiple times. I’m surprised it’s still there.” Aunt Salem chuckles. “Aunt Aziza has a bad hip; Uncle Killian has a bad back.”
“What’s my weak spot?” I question, rolling onto my stomach.
“You don’t have one, remind yourself to breathe and that you can make it through the pain. Remind yourself you’re not weak and kick their ass. People are most surprised when we let them think they’ve won. Show them no one messes with a Volkov, and if they do, kill them.”
Rolling over, I twist my body, kicking her in the face. Luna flies onto her back screaming in pain. I crawl towards her, straddling her stomach. Smashing my fists into her face again and again, blood bubbles from her lips. She struggles against me, gasping. “Stop!” she begs. But I don’t. I hit her again, flashes of every cartel person that hurt me.
I feel my knuckles crack open along with her nose. Her screaming only fuels me more, I drill my fist into her face. I can’t stop. The hatred fills my lungs as I think about her killing Jace, and I know if she killed him, she would have to kill Ryker. He wouldn’t let Luna live after killing his best friend.
I can’t stop hitting her, not when blood pours from her nose. Not even when she stops fighting. I hate her.
Breathing rapidly, my arms drop, crawling off her bloody body. Watching her chest, her breaths are hollow.
“Don’t show them mercy. If they tried to kill you once, they’ll try again.”
Aunt Salem’s voice fills my mind. Blinking over at the knife, I reach over.
“Blake?” one of the boys call out. Shaking my head, I hold the blade over her face, Luna’s eyes slowly opening. The moment she sees the knife and her eyes widen, I slam it down into her eye. Pulling back, the knife plucks her eye from the socket. I do the same with her other eye. Smiling I see both her eyes firmly placed on the knife’s tip.
“Oh, shit,” Ryker mutters. Tossing the knife to the side, I stand on uneasy legs.
Limping to the kitchen, I open drawers until I find a pair of scissors. Hobbling back, I cut through Jace’s restraints first. Once his hands are free, he takes the scissors from me, cutting his legs and then freeing Ryker.
I try to suck in a breath, but I can barely breathe. She must have broken more than a few ribs.Breathe, you can do this,I remind myself.
“You’re mine!” Luna cries.
Blinking my eyes open, I try to focus on getting the little oxygen I can. Between the blood dripping into my eyes and the blurry vision, I can barely see Luna hitting Jace. Biting my lip, I ignore what she’s doing. I have to figure a way out of here.
My hands can’t reach the knife she dropped. I struggle, twisting around. I ignore the protest in my body. I feel weak but I can’t just watch Luna hurt them.
“You’re mine. I loved you! I would’ve made you happy!” she screams, slamming her fist into Jace’s face. He grunts as Ryker attempts to knock the chair off the ground.
“I—Oh, Jacey,” she mumbles.
My body stills as she straightens her back. All of us watch as she stomps to the kitchen searching for something.
“I could’ve made you happy, given you kids, anything you wanted. Why couldn’t you just love me back?” She hiccups. Slowly walking back to Jace, she swings a butcher knife around. “I don’t want to kill you, but I can’t stand the sight of you and her,” she hisses, pointing at me with the knife.
I have a split second to think before I pull against the zip ties around my wrist. The thing about strength is it comes out of nowhere. The human mind tells you that you can’t do something when your body knows you better.
I hated the cartel for taking me, and I hated my father for letting them. I hated myself for being weak, but this hatred is different. She’s hurting Jace because he loves me.
I look at Jace; he sits with his head held high, accepting that he’s about to die. I hate him. He’s not allowed to die.
Gritting my teeth, I pull harder against the ties, pulling harder until they finally give way. My shoulder screams in protest. But I don’t have time to think about that, not when Jace is about to die, and I haven’t even told him I loved him or Ryker.
Swallowing my pain, I struggle to my feet. My knees buckle, moments from giving out. Neither of them has noticed I’m up. Luna continues to scream at Jace while Ryker fights against his binds. Looking around, I know I don’t have time to find a proper weapon. The lamp will have to do. Limping over, I carefully unplug the ugly thing, picking it up. Shuffling to the door, I step out, gaining Ryker’s attention. His eyes widen, his lips picking up in a smile.
Shaking my head, I bite my cheek, easing my way closer until Luna stops yelling, stopping me in my tracks. Luna must sense something isn’t right because she swings around. Her mouth drops open, her fist loosening around the knife. I take my chance chucking the lamp at her.
Luna screams, the knife dropping to the ground. The lamp smashes over her face, cutting it up. My eyes zero in on the knife. Stepping forward, Luna realizes what I’m looking at. Both of us drop for the knife.
“Men fight dirty, but girls can fight dirtier. All you have to know is their weak spot,” Aunt Salem tells me. “I have a bad leg, so when I’m fighting, I keep it out of the way from an easy shot. Most don’t, they put it right in the center.”
“What’s Uncle Zane’s weak spot?” I ask, stretching my arms above my head.
“Besides me, his nose. He’s had that thing broken multiple times. I’m surprised it’s still there.” Aunt Salem chuckles. “Aunt Aziza has a bad hip; Uncle Killian has a bad back.”
“What’s my weak spot?” I question, rolling onto my stomach.
“You don’t have one, remind yourself to breathe and that you can make it through the pain. Remind yourself you’re not weak and kick their ass. People are most surprised when we let them think they’ve won. Show them no one messes with a Volkov, and if they do, kill them.”
Rolling over, I twist my body, kicking her in the face. Luna flies onto her back screaming in pain. I crawl towards her, straddling her stomach. Smashing my fists into her face again and again, blood bubbles from her lips. She struggles against me, gasping. “Stop!” she begs. But I don’t. I hit her again, flashes of every cartel person that hurt me.
I feel my knuckles crack open along with her nose. Her screaming only fuels me more, I drill my fist into her face. I can’t stop. The hatred fills my lungs as I think about her killing Jace, and I know if she killed him, she would have to kill Ryker. He wouldn’t let Luna live after killing his best friend.
I can’t stop hitting her, not when blood pours from her nose. Not even when she stops fighting. I hate her.
Breathing rapidly, my arms drop, crawling off her bloody body. Watching her chest, her breaths are hollow.
“Don’t show them mercy. If they tried to kill you once, they’ll try again.”
Aunt Salem’s voice fills my mind. Blinking over at the knife, I reach over.
“Blake?” one of the boys call out. Shaking my head, I hold the blade over her face, Luna’s eyes slowly opening. The moment she sees the knife and her eyes widen, I slam it down into her eye. Pulling back, the knife plucks her eye from the socket. I do the same with her other eye. Smiling I see both her eyes firmly placed on the knife’s tip.
“Oh, shit,” Ryker mutters. Tossing the knife to the side, I stand on uneasy legs.
Limping to the kitchen, I open drawers until I find a pair of scissors. Hobbling back, I cut through Jace’s restraints first. Once his hands are free, he takes the scissors from me, cutting his legs and then freeing Ryker.
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