Page 69 of Bound to a Killer

If I’m going to go down, then I should at least leave my mark before I’m gone. Ledger would want that.

“I had a girl…a daughter once,” he says, his voice carrying a haunting edge. “She would’ve been more or less around your age.” He pauses for a beat. “None of us can escape death. Eventually, we all die.”

I swallow against the tightness in my throat. He sounds close.

“Tell you what. Come out on your own, and I’ll make sure it’s quick.”

I keep my eyes trained to the side, waiting for his leg to come into view. Both of my hands wrapped around the knife as I white-knuckle the handle.

He creeps forward. Closer. I can hear him.

My heart slams between my ribs, drowning out anything else he says, my vision tunneling as I focus on the open space to my left until the blurred fabric of his dark denim appears.

Immediately, I stab the first leg that pops into view before the second even has the opportunity to follow.

He roars in pain, but it’s quickly overshadowed by a swift gunshot, his bullet veering off course, missing me entirely.

Seizing the opening, I stab him again, this time driving into him with double the force. A sharp wail snaps his vocal cords. Raw. Guttural.

I smile, but I don’t have time to relish the win, because within a flash, his plump hands shoot out to clamp around my wrist, and before I know it, my back slams onto the hard ground.

My eyes roll around to the back of my head, a sob collapsing into a heaving gasp as his weight crashes down over me.

“You conniving little bitch,” he grits out, the muscles in his neck pulled taut as he grinds his teeth.

His hands lock around my throat. My own flail at my sides, desperately searching for my missing blade. I catch sight of it, still lodged in his flesh, but out of my reach.

The pistol lies in the dirt, inches from his hip, the silver metal glinting in the sunlight. He doesn’t reach for it.

Instead, he tightens his grip on my neck, squeezing until mymouth pops open. I can’t suck in air. My lungs burn, panic climbing higher in my chest as my vision spots.

Ledger.

Someone, help.

Unwilling to give up just yet, I swing a pathetic arm higher against the rubble, reaching for the gun. He sees me struggling and laughs, a deranged, animalistic howl that makes me shudder beneath him. “Still hanging on until the bitter end,” he mocks, his voice ragged with effort. “Well, this ends now.”

20

LEDGER

Violent thuds batter my ears, syncing with the erratic rhythm of my heartbeat as I dive toward Dee’s abandoned handgun that I’ve been eyeing since it skidded across the floor.

I clasp the cold metal, my body slamming into the dirt-streaked ground. Mayhem erupts around me in full force: gunshots, shrieks, and frantic motion blurring in the corners of my eyes. Antonio ran after Aria. I need to go after them.

Before it’s too late.

“Tanner, don’t!” Frankie shrieks, her voice cutting in several inches away.

I snap my gaze up. Frankie’s beside Tanner, his arm locked around her. I instantly raise my newly acquired pistol, aiming it at him. “Get away from her,” I growl, seething. When the hell did she even get that close to him? She was next to me just seconds ago.

His barrel points back at me, brows drawn tight. “Don’t,” he pants, sweat beading along his forehead. A spreading pool of blood seeps through the side of his navy sweatpants, darkening them. “Don’t move.”

Neither of us lowers our guns.

Frankie starts to sob again, pleading with him to stop. “Why are you doing this?” she cries, voice cracking. “Why?”

His jaw flexes. “Aria was a liability. You’ve always known that,” he says, his eyes locked on mine, ignoring Frankie trembling in his arms.