Page 162 of Dirty Salvation

She smiled to piss off Hades, that man was not taking one ounce of happiness from her again. He could kill her, steal her life, but her happiness, the joy she'd felt since escaping Hades' cruelty was all hers.

Because of Rider.

She smiled, her tear ducts letting loose, her beautiful man in her mind she went on smiling.

Kill me, you, fucker, but you'll never take what I had with him from me.

And with the last force of strength Zara had she used it in the best way by kneeing Hades in the balls, and by divine luck, it was enough to shift the momentum of his weight as he reared back a step.

"Stupidcunt!" he spat out, strains of his native west coast accent in his terrible voice, teeth tensed, his nostrils flared. Dragons fire in his eyes. She knew the look, there was no return from here, she visibly braced for the crack of pain, he would beat her to death now. His arm came back ready to backhand her across the face. She must look like a fly for him to swat.

Zara reinforced her bones, prepared, welcomed it, because it stupidly would give her more seconds to live, any second was worth it if she could just reach her car to get away and back to theSoulscompound.

Safety was within seven miles … yet so far away.

She didn't trust Hades to not follow her into the mom and pop store, he was crazy enough to kill the people inside without hesitation. Her best bet was to drive as fast as she could to the compound.

If only she could reach her car.

All it took was seconds.

Seconds to die.

Seconds to live.

There was never any time to properly process death because if a person did they would truly be horrified of what was to come. No one travels through hell and stops for coffee along the way.

Death came and took you, and that was just how it worked, you didn’t send it a thank you card.

Fuck you very much, death. I’d only just started living again.

Seconds crawled by, Zara felt them all in slow motion like she was running through glue, she braced for the massive fist punching her in the face. You’d think being gang raped had been the worse part of Zara’s existence, but it was the threat of his violence, when it came it was more frightening than anything else, it hid beneath his rippling surface behind the madness, and when it came the fear had been irreparably damaging.

Only pain didn’t make an appearance to this horror show.

Something much more…shocking.

It all happened so fast that for a flash Zara thought she was dreaming, starved too long of oxygen she’d already died and was hallucinating being saved byHawkof all people.

Seriously.

He had Hades trapped against the wall, am arm pressed to his windpipe, after wrenching him bodily off Zara, and by his hand motion going back and forth into Hades ribs, with quick sequence, there was no doubt what he was doing.

Stabbing Hades repeatedly.

Sure enough blood began to ooze and cover Hawk’s hand, Zara stepped back in stunned shock, lungs churning in that good air, pain in her neck, as if inside her windpipe was crushed, was burning, she swallowed reflexively working to wet her throat, eyes wider than ever before, she watched that huge tyrant of a man crumble to the floor, just a fast slide down the wall, how easily it seemed, he gripped his torso like he could plug up the holes.

No chance, Hawk must have stabbed him fifty times, maybe more, she lost count because…Jesus.

He’d stuck him so suddenly her brain was still racing to catch up.

Wherehad the hell he even come from? When she looked at Hawk he looked right back at her and she shivered.

Now there was a blast of bleak shade in those eyes. Those doesn't give a fuck eyes.

Her fucking savior. Jesus hair no less.

“Zara…” hissed Hades. It was the first and last time he’d ever used her given name. Her gaze flicked down to the floor to find his eyes pinned to her longingly like he truly did care for her. She was sickened by it. Didn’t feel an ounce of compassion for death taking him in drowsing increments.