Page 53 of Seven Graves

My breathing went rogue, and my eyes got wide when I watched my Irishman drop every weapon he had to the floor.

He kicked a few of them further down the hallway, and they started circling each other while he stuffed the keys into his pocket.

I honestly don’t know who’s gonna win this.

I know Malek is a killer, but how well can he brawl?

And what happens to me if they both die in here and I’m stuck in a moldy basement?

Where is Bridget? I swear my head is a mangled shitstorm.

Zane put his fists up. Malek didn’t. They danced around each other for what seemed like forever, until Zane finally threw the first punch.

It grazed his collarbone with his quick dodge, but he still took a hit.

I guess it was enough to start the blaze of rage…

or maybe it was the way we saw each other as he passed the cell door.

Maybe that did it for him. All I could see or hear after that was the contact of skin on skin—and not the sexy kind.

Zane’s fist slipped on the sweat and blood Malek had on his face.

Malek’s jabs seemed like they barely put a dent in the toned muscle of Zane’s trained body.

I covered my eyes. This isn’t going well. So much for that luck.

“Did he touch you, Viper?” Malek asked, straining while he held off the prick, and drove an elbow to his neck. Zane grunted, obviously hurt, and backhanded him before they were grappling each other again.

“No. And you kinda suck at this! For fuck’s sake, just shoot him or something!”

He smiled at me from over Zane’s shoulder as he got bulldozed backward and kicked over a folded knife that clanged against the metal. They hit the floor, wrestling each other, and I knelt down, reaching through the bars for the golden ticket outta here. But once it was in my hand…

I’ve never killed anyone. That’s not what I do.

This only ends if I end it. I’m about to commit murder.

Self-defense, or not…there’s no going back once it’s done.

The alternative is that we both might die if I don’t.

The other thought is that if it were in my hands and Zane had gotten through that door—I know I would have at least attempted to kill this fucker anyway.

I flicked the blade open and for a split second, caught Malek’s eyes.

Message received. I slipped it through the bars, holding it with both hands and now I know what he was saving his strength for.

He raged, busting open his knuckles on Zane’s face, and pulling him up as he stood.

I couldn’t even see the green in his eyes anymore as his pupils dilated and he screamed, grabbing Zane with both fists by the front of his shirt and ramming his back into my knife.

I felt the muscle give, and the tip of the blade cut through sinew and bone.

I know what the inside of a body looks like.

I know what I’m severing. But it’s so much different when it’s a fresh one.

I feel sick. Malek kept his eyes focused on Zane’s face, pulling him forward and repeatedly bashing him back into the blade until the front of my white t-shirt was drenched in blood.

I finally dropped the knife, my hands shaking and backed away as Malek threw his limp body to the side.

We stood there looking at each other, both of us utterly breathless.

“Probly a bad time to tell you how fuckin’ sexy you look in rival blood, right?” I wanted to smile. To answer. To do something other than what the fuck I did right then. My chest sputtered and I felt hot tears streak down my dirty face. “Sev…”

I dropped to my knees and couldn’t control it.

My hands were violently shaking, and I turned them over, stupidly looking at my bloody palms in shock.

I barely registered that the door unlocked, and then he was instantly there, grabbing hold of both sides of my face and forcing me to look at him while I choked on my own oxygen. “I—I killed—”

“No, you didn’t. I did . Look at me.” I heaved, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“Baby, look at me. You’re whole. You’re safe.

I’ve got you.” I don’t feel whole. I don’t feel anything .

Is that worse? Am I more like them than I thought?

Am I even speaking? I guess I wasn’t. He raised us to stand, and reached under my thighs, hoisting me up, and I instinctively coiled my legs around him, throwing my arms around his neck while my face buried into it.

This helps. His arms tightened around me, and I let loose.

“Bridget…” I sobbed.

“Safe. She’s safe. I’m so sorry.” His breaths were warm on the column of my neck, and he trailed feather light kisses over my nasty skin, breathing me in like I don’t smell like absolute shit. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Viper.”

I sniffled, and he held me tighter, one hand gripping the back of my head. “How many more are on the list, Malek?” I can’t do this.

I pulled back to look at him and something in his face looked…anxious. Terrified.

“…One…"