Chapter 217

Chapter 217 Loyalty, Lies, and the First to Turn
Dawn and Jack stood frozen on the side, watching the scene unfold in complete silence. Neither dared to move a muscle.
After the third round of blows. Theresa grabbed Quentin by the collar and snapped, “Can you think about anything besides that one d’mn thing?! And do you even believe half the crap you say? You f*ck wherever you land, and you have the nerve to talk about loyalty? I’d believe you if you used any other organ to talk besides that one!”
“Miss!” Dawn suddenly piped up. “Q–Quentin really is loyal. He told us before… that there’s someone he likes. Said he’d never be with another woman for the rest of his life.”
Theresa froze. Even Jack turned to stare at her in disbelief.
Dawn nodded earnestly. “It’s true. He told all of us. He’s super devoted!”
“But… he’s always hanging around you girls. Giving you food…” Jack muttered uncertainly.
“That’s because he wanted us to tell him stories. He said he liked listening to them. He never forced us to do anything, never said anything gross–he was a total gentleman. Really.” Dawn hesitated, then added, “And honestly, with his strength, he didn’t need to offer us food. We were all kind of hoping he’d pick us to be his girlfriend.”
Really? You’re admitting that in my face? Jack questioned, stumped.
Quentin let out a low chuckle.
Theresa stared down at the man no one seemed to fully understand, her brows furrowing. She didn’t believe a word Quentin said–and she certainly didn’t think she was the one he claimed to be in love with.
She hadn’t done anything kind for him, except maybe that one time she backed him up against his family. That was it. And if that had really meant something to him, would he have turned around and screwed her over? Lied to her? Set her up?
What kind of person did that?
Every time they ran into each other, it ended in a fight. She’d hit him, he’d run off. Like clockwork.
Whatever Quentin was feeling, Theresa didn’t consider it “love.” Let alone loyalty. Please. She had cold, hard proof to back it up.
She made up her mind: Quentin was going back with her in chains. She’d watch him 24/7 and drag whatever scraps of loyalty he had left to the surface. She would have his half–zombie body one way or another–the more he resisted, the more she wanted him.
Just then, a voice echoed from the employee lounge.
“Phoebe, what’s wrong?! Phoebe!”
Theresa’s expression darkened immediately.
Jack, suddenly remembered something. “Miss–wait! Phoebe and Mila both drank from the same bottle
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Chapter 217 Loyalty, Lies, and the First to Turn Fresh chapters posted on fındno did!”
Theresa didn’t wait for another word. She slung Quentin over her shoulder and charged into the lounge
The moment she burst through the door, two figures came sprinting from the restroom.
Phoebe had thrown herself into Kieran’s arms, her body trembling violently. Kieran looked down at her, alarmed. “Phocbe? Your face… something’s wrong! Why are you shaking like that? Phoebe–your face!”
His eyes caught on her neck. Blackened veins were creeping upward beneath her skin.
Panicking, Kieran tried to push her away, but Phoebe clung to him with terrifying strength.
“It hurts… Kieran, you promised–you said you’d stay with me forever… Aaargh!”
Suddenly, she lifted her head, her face now pale and distorted, transformed into a zombie’s. Her jaw opened impossibly wide as she lunged for his face.
“Ahh!” Kieran screamed and exploded with strength, shoving her back with everything he had.
Bam!
Phoebe slammed into the wall, then staggered back up, neck twisted grotesquely as she lunged again. That’s when Kieran spotted a walking cane nearby–his mind flashed to what Theresa had told him: the zombie’s weakness was the head.
He snatched up the cane and brought it down with all his might.
Bam!
Phoebe went flying from the blow. Kieran didn’t stop. He launched at her, fists hammering her head over and over again.
“Why?! Why would you turn me into a zombie?! Why couldn’t you just die alone?! You deserve to die!”
By the time Phoebe’s body lay mangled and motionless, Kieran stood over her, blood dripping from his hands, the cane clattering to the floor beside him.
Slowly, he turned to face the others who had followed him in.
The left side of his face was torn wide open, the skin shredded all the way down to exposed muscle and nasal bone. The edges of the wound looked like torn paper, with bloody tendons and vessels laid bare.
He tilted his head at them and gave a broken, ragged smile.
“Oh, hey. You guys have arrived.”
As he forced a grin, the muscle along his cheek split even further, and crimson blood gushed from his shattered cheekbone.