Page 154 of Phobia

As much as I felt sorry for her, I knew that I couldn’t allow Judah to have her, even if that meant having to kill her.

Slowly, carefully not to alert Judah, I inched toward the table, toward the knife I left next to her head in the moment of insanity, looking at the man who shouldn’t exist. His blond hair was styled perfectly, his eyes shone brightly when he looked at me, and I couldn’t shake off this feeling that no matter what I did, while he breathed, I would never be free.

The gleam in his eyes wasn’t anywhere near close to the one Lazarus had. This one was filled with something much darker, much more sinister, and I didn’t need to be clairvoyant to know that he would never let me go. The more I stood here, listening to him talk about this girl as if she wasn’t in the room, the more I started thinking that whatever Gabriel had to tell me, had something to do with Judah and me.

My hand wrapped around the handle of the knife just as Judah looked at me, his eyes widening at the action. I could see his lips moving, but the white noise ringing in my ears stopped me from hearing anything.

With one last look at the girl, at her fearful eyes and the years she would never get to live, I pulled out the knife above her head, releasing it from the table, and stabbed it back down.

Right into the center of her chest.

“No!” The inhuman roar that came from Judah would’ve scared a lesser person, but bullies like him never really learned until you took what they wanted the most from them. He wanted this girl. He wanted to destroy her life in ways unimaginable, and I had to stop him.

I had to stop all of them.

“What have you done?” His thunderous voice bounced off of the walls, but his feet stayed cemented to the ground.

The gurgling sound pulled my attention back to the girl. Blood soaked the cloth she had in her mouth, the tears that were slowly falling were now mixing with the crimson substance coming out from between her lips. The white shirt she had on was becoming saturated with her blood pouring out of the wound where the knife stood still in the center of her chest.

“You fool!” Judah continued his rant, and just as I was about to turn toward him, someone wrapped an arm around my chest, pulling me back.

“That’s enough, Judah,” Lazarus said, shielding me with his body.

“Oh, no, no, no.” Judah laughed maniacally. “She’s going to pay now. She’s going to be mine to do whatever I want to do to her. She belongs to me!”

“She doesn’t belong to you!” Lazarus thundered, his muscles straining from the force coming through his lips. “She will never belong to you.”

“We’ll see about that.” Judah snickered, and before I could turn around, he pulled out a gun I hadn’t seen on him before, pointing it at Lazarus. “You can hand her over, or you will die. It’s your choice, buddy.”

“No,” Lazarus answered calmly. “You can do whatever you want to do to me, but she is not coming with you.”

“Well,” Judah scratched his temple with the barrel of the gun, “if you’re dead, there’s little you can do to stop me.”

I knew that in the years that would come, I would never forget the sound of the gunshot that came next, or the blinding pain that rocked through my body when Lazarus grunted, falling down to the floor. I would never forget the roaring in my head, or the white-hot anger coursing through my veins.

But most of all, I would never forget the way Lazarus looked at me, his eyes filled with so many regrets, so many dreams that we would never get to dream together.

They say people were capable of many things in situations like these, and I never truly believed in those stories until this happened to me. For the moment, the entire world stood still, as if all the air got sucked out of the room, out of us, and we just waited for the next move.

Like slow motion, my heart pushed me toward the knife that stood lodged inside the girl’s chest. Before Judah could act again, I was barreling toward him with the knife pointed straight at him. There was no time for him to react. There was no time for me to stop. When the knife finally disappeared inside his body, only leaving the handle visible to me, I felt like I could breathe.

His mouth formed an O, surprise lining every single part of his face, but the knife lodged deep inside his stomach had him stumbling down, falling to the ground, much how Lazarus fell.

My foot connected with his hand, stepping down with all my might, making him release the gun he held onto. As I pushed it away from him, leaving him lying there on the cold ground, my eyes zeroed in on the lantern on the small table just behind Judah. The flame danced as if it was beckoning me, telling me to come closer.

“You’re going to regret this,” Judah mumbled, trying to get up, but we both knew that there was no way he would be getting out of this with only that wound.

“Danika,” Lazarus murmured brokenly, but I had no time to look at him right now. I had no idea where the bullet went or if we would survive this, but if I was going to die, so was Judah Blackwood.

“You took so much from the world,” I said, slowly walking toward the lantern. “You and your family didn’t know when to stop, and you’re still taking. You’re taking things that were never meant for you in the first place, but you don’t care, Judah. You don’t care how many lives you destroy as long as you get what you think you deserve. And me,” I looked over my shoulder straight at him, “you will never get me.”

My fingers wrapped around the round handle on top of the lantern, lifting it up from its place and turning toward him.

“They say that fire cleansed Jerusalem.” I smirked, holding the lantern high above the ground. “Maybe it will cleanse you, too.”

My hand opened up just as I stopped talking, letting the lantern crash down on the ground, spilling the oil that kept it running. Just as I thought that the flame would die out, it picked up, following the path of the gas, climbing over the wall, destroying the papers and sketches that Lazarus left.

I ran toward the man who held my heart, who still looked at me, paler than usual, with blood gushing out of the wound on his thigh.