Ruthless Secrets (Elites of Macedon High 2)

Panic sets in when he tightens his grip on me. I reach back to hit him, smack him, whatever the fuck I can manage to do. I push off the ground as I grab his forearm, using my weight once more. When he tips back, I lunge forward, trying to knock him off his balance.

But the guy is simply too big. He won’t topple unless I take out his knees or hit him somewhere that will have a strong impact. When the crook of his elbow presses into my throat, I croak, trying to claw his arm away from my neck. He’s applying too much pressure, and I can’t fucking breathe.

My eyes roll up to the sky. Is Alex here? Did she pull up behind me? Can she hear me choking out here?

Anger coils in my gut as I struggle to breathe, trying to think through the haze of my brain suffocating. I manage to lodge my elbow into his solar plexus, causing him to cough and bend forward. But his grip is too tight. He’s too strong.

He’s too much bigger than me.

As his arm compresses like a snake preparing to squeeze its prey, I flail as hard as I can, fighting with every ounce of strength left in me. I can’t leave Alex alone in this world. She can’t be by herself. Without me around, she’ll get lost in this life and succumb to someone who won’t take care of her.

I grit my teeth and growl, lunging forward again.

The man laughs as if we’re just a couple of old friends wrestling. “Go ahead, son. Weaken yourself. It’ll just make you bleed faster.”

Horror lances my chest when I feel a sharp pang rip through my rib cage. My limbs go rigid as I struggle to breathe, lightning exploding like spiderwebs through my sternum. I choke, clinging tightly to the man’s arm to keep my legs from giving out.

“That’s it, kid,” he whispers. “Don’t bother fighting this one.”

White-hot pain tears through my stomach toward my navel. The sturdiness provided by my attacker suddenly disappears, leaving me teetering on my feet. Fluid gushes through my fingers when I grab the front of my jacket. It’s hot…and it’s soaked.

“There’s…so…”

My throat quivers as I hit my knees. I clutch the wound, desperately attempting to keep the muscle and tissue from parting. But it’s fucking useless. Blood pours through my fingers like sand through a sieve—I’m helpless to stop it. The inevitable approaches, the cold air around me feeling that much more frigid than it did when I first arrived.

Hardwood bites my upper back, shattering my concentration. My vision swims with black dots as I gasp for air and clutch uselessly at the gaping wound in my belly. A million images flash in my mind, more like thoughts, incomplete phrases, unspoken words. It’s not like the movies. It doesn’t make me feel absolved or frightened.

It just makes me feel…empty.

The figure of the man who stabbed me looms over my body. Shadows darken the sky around his head, what little light is left from the distant poles haloing his skull. He almost looks angelic—or like the devil who took my life. He bends down, places a card on my chest, and pats my cheek.

“No hard feelings, kid,” he says. “But somebody needed to take a hit.”

My fingers curl to make a fist, too weakened to properly tighten but too stubborn not to try. Even with my last breath lodged in my lungs, I attempt to curse the man walking away from me. The coward, the fucking selfish prick, just took away the only thing in this world worth defending.

And I can’t even warn her about what’s to come.

***

Alex

When I reach Thasos, my heart is pounding with excitement. I forget about Parker, how he was just between my legs, how he promised all sorts of protection as I wander up the main walkway to the rear pier where I’m supposed to meet Lev.

My texts have gone unanswered, putting me in a strange mood as I follow the wooden path to freedom. A small smile breaks over my lips as I realize what’s about to happen. I’ve got a small duffel bag and nothing else, having been instructed to keep it light. I might be overdressed for a midnight getaway, but who cares?

I’m going to England.

And I’m going with Lev.

The sound of a frog croaking breaks out near the designated pier. I frown as I approach, not seeing Lev anywhere. When I pull out my phone, I turn on my flashlight, sweeping the light over the floorboards to make sure I don’t fall into the lake. The frog croaks louder, making me think of all the magical nights we’re going to spend outside our cabin in England.

Until the light illuminates a body.

I gasp as I hop back. “Fuck!”

Blood pools around the black hoodie, the dark jeans, the Converse sneakers.

And then I see his eyes.