Chapter 245
Chapter 245
Mallory
“We can talk outside. It’s nice out here.” I pushed my feet into the ground, trying to slow her down as she used the arm around my shoulders to drag me forward. Her plan was obvious. She had fucked up by mentioning she was in a pack and now, I was to die for her fuck up. It must really be eating her up if her only option is to kill me.
But there was no way on this Earth that she would be the one to kill me.
Her grip on me tightens, forcing me forward a little more. “I would prefer to have this conversation over a glass of wine.”
“Sorry, I don’t drink.” I mutter, hooking my foot around the car tyre. If she was going to try and kill me, she could do it out here. Dane had said this place was neutral territory. Killing me in the open would have her torn to shreds.
“Are you always so stubborn?” She snarls, tugging me forward.
“I take after my father.” I shoot her a wink.
She snorts, and she’s missing the point. Or maybe Jenson didn’t know about that part to tell her.
“JENSON!” She screams at the top of her lungs, almost deafening me. So much anger sits behind her tone. Anger for me? Anger at herself? Or anger that Jenson had been watching from the window and hadn’t even come down to try and help her. Whichever one it was, I was certain she was close to exploding, or maybe even shifting.
Jenson pulls the door to the side of the house open. His dark eyes dancing between the both of us as he tries to guess what she wants. Though it seemed pretty obvious. Or maybe, just maybe, he was buying time.
Maybe I could get through to Jenson. It would be a long shot, but I had to try.
“Moron, grab her fucking legs.”
Really? That’s how she talks to the man who claimed her.
He scoops down to grab my legs, only for my knee to smack him in the eye. He yells and stumbles back, only making Blair scream at him again.
He wrestles against my legs receiving several blows to the groin and his face before he gets a complete hold on me, locking my legs in the crook of his armpit.
Carrying me inside, they slam me onto a wooden chair, quickly binding my hands behind my back and my feet to the front legs of the chair. Child’s play. I really expected more from Blair. Or maybe she had never held someone hostage before. Maybe she was a kill on sight person and if that was the case, what was she really planning?
“I was wrong.” I mutter
“Shut the fuck up!” She screeches at me.
“Neah doesn’t scream like a banshee.” I spit at her and a hand slices across my cool skin. If I could look into a mirror, I would probably see a perfect red hand print, seconds before it fades as I heal.
“I’m going to slice you open you little brat.”
“No, you can’t do that!” Jenson plants himself between us. There is hope.
“Get out of the damn way, Jenson!”
“If you kill her, you are going to bring them all to our door. As much as you are an expert killer. You cannot take on that many and live to tell the tale. You will never get what you want. We will never
get what we want.”
“They don’t care about her.”
“But one does. The one who is mated to my sister which means she will say something to Dane and he will send the fucking pack!”
She growls and shoves him out the way anyway. The sharp edge of a knife slices across my other cheek. Warm beads of blood trickle from the cut and down towards my chin. She watches it heal before repeating the process.
“You’re right.” She turns around to Jenson and presses her lips against his. “For once, you are right. I won’t kill her …. Yet.”
I laugh and she presses a stiletto against the chair between my thighs, pushing it back as though she thought it would scare me. I had been in a lot of situations far scarier than this crap. It seems to annoy her when I don’t react and she slams a knife into my thigh, pinning it to the chair underneath and laughing.
Okay. That did hurt, but it’s nothing I couldn’t heal from.
I stare up into her shitty brown eyes. “Is that all you’ve got, Rogue?!”
She glares at me in the exact same way as when I called her a Rogue at Black Shadow. She hated it. It was a reminder of a past that she wanted to forget. A past that haunts her, just like the rest of us.
Spinning around, she grabs a longer knife off the nearby table. This time Jenson grabs her, turning her away from me, moments before it’s plunged into my other leg. “She won’t help us if you insist on fucking torturing her.”