Cursed Angels
I’m pulling up a pair of skinny jeans when I hear the resounding echo of a gunshot. I’ve spent my life around that sound, and each time I’ve heard it, someone’s been killed. I quickly tug on a tank top and race with my wet hair through the cabin.
I know where Hunter would’ve taken Archer, and I speed on bare feet toward the door. Wrenching it open, I practically fly down the stairs to the basement, expecting to find the worst. But when I reach the last step, I’m bombarded with a heavy body that knocks me to the concrete. Then, another shot, and blood splatters all over my white top. The material now drenched in crimson.
Screaming echoes around me, and I don’t realize it’s me until hands are gripping me harshly, tugging me from the floor. My gaze is blurry from banging my head on the step, and dizziness overtakes me.
The heaviness of Archer’s body is against mine, holding me down. Blood drips from his shoulder onto my lips, and I taste the metal liquid. It’s thick and warm, causing me to retch.
“Fuck,” he hisses, clutching at his shoulder.
My eyes dart toward Hunter, who’s now pulling at Archer’s shirt. He manages to get Arch up, and both men stumble backward onto the cold concrete.
A loud thud sounds around us as the gun falls out of reach from them both. I scramble toward it, the agony in my thigh from hitting the cold concrete causing me to fall to my knees.
“Samara, you have to do it!” Hunter’s voice is loud, shrill, as he screams at me, and I know he’s right. I reach for the gun, but Archer has pulled away from Hunter, and he’s on me in seconds.
His body weight knocks my breath from my lungs. I’m merely a puppet under this strength, and he tugs me onto my back, his legs on either side of me, holding me hostage. His hand wraps around my throat, tightening as it steals my breath. The sound of my choking echoes around us as another shot is fired from behind Archer, and he falls limply beside me.
A scream is wrenched from my lungs, burning as it falls from my lips. I’m crawling toward the man who’s lying on his back, his eyes wide in shock. Turning my head toward my friend, my partner, pinning him with a narrowed glare.
“What the fuck did you do?” I’m on my feet, ramming my slim frame into Hunter’s much larger one. I slam my fists into his chest, but he doesn’t fight back. His arms cocoon me, holding me in his warmth as he attempts to console me, but he can’t. I’m in agony. It feels as if my heart has been torn from my body. I’m pulling in air, but it’s not helping. My lungs are being squeezed, and tears sting my eyes as I blink them away.
Archer is blurry as blood pools around his body. Hunter’s arms are around me, pulling me to him, but I can’t be near him. With all the strength I can muster, I shove him backward and straddle Archer. My hands on his chest attempting CPR, but Hunter’s dragging me off him a second later.
“He’s not dead.” His words slowly seep through the cloud of worry that’s caught me in its feral grip. “Samara!” He finally steals my attention, making me look him in the eye. “He’s not dead. Listen to me.” He grips my shoulders, shaking me as if to wake me from a nightmare.
“What?” My voice is croaky when I utter the word.
“It’s not a real bullet. The blood has stopped. See?” He points to the floor, and I notice that the pool of blood is nothing like I had envisioned. “He’s alive. He’ll be okay. We just need to tie him up. Help me.”
We move quickly before Archer opens his eyes, and when he finally does, there’s an empty shell of a man behind them.
“You’ll both pay. Do you hear me, bitch?” he sneers, looking directly at me. There’s anger dancing in his eyes as he regards me.
“Why do you hate me?” I question in a low tone. I need to learn what they’ve told him before we can figure out how the fuck to cure him. I know he said there’s a chip they’ve implanted in his brain, but who says if we remove it, he won’t die?
“You took everything from me,” he spits. Blood stains his full lips. “You fucking stole my freedom, you filthy bitch. There’s only one woman who can help me now. And that’s Dr. Ward.” He spews his words drenched in rage.
“Who is the love of your life?” Hunter questions, because I can’t find words, and his question stills my breathing. My heart aches for what they’ve done to Archer. For the boy who lost his youth because of evil people.