Page 97 of Seven+Four

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Page 97 of Seven+Four

I force my body to stay still, even though his touch feels revolting. He’s close enough now for the scissors to do some damage, but I need to know what happened to Uri. I have an ominous feeling about it; Trent looks too pleased with himself.

“After the way he treated me, I needed to tell him how rude he’d conducted himself—I’m a professor after all, teaching is what I do. I needed to get it through his thick head, and I surely did…with my baseball bat. Did you know I played some ball in college?”

My eyes fall to the bloody wooden bat lying against the wall, and I gasp as I put the pieces together.

“No,” I let out on a breath.

“It was incredibly easy, and the crack I heard when I hit him…ahhh.”

It can’t be. Everything turns dark for a moment, like my brain, body, and heart are suffering a temporary blackout.

“I’ll never forget that sweet sound.” His blackhearted words and those predatory, lecherous eyes make me want to run and shut him up at the same time. “So much blood, though.”

“I don’t believe you!” I suddenly scream. Tears well up, but I don’t let them fall. All I’m doing is crying lately. I’m sick of it. Anger is a much better way to vent. Because Uri is alive. I won’t believe otherwise, I can’t. I’ll break down if…

His hand suddenly swings down. The smack resounds in the room as my face snaps to the side from the force of the slap. “Your disgusting brother is dead. Now there’s only me, and you’ll do as I say, or you will end up like the others.”

The others?

His finger rubs the side of my mouth before he sucks on the drop of blood on the tip. I hear a whimper, and soon realize it’s coming from me. The pain makes my body tingle and stokes the fire inside me…ready to scorch the crazy bastard in front of me.

“I’m going to eat you up from head to toe, darling.” His hand moves to his belt, and he starts to unbuckle it. A nauseating feeling forms inside my stomach.

“You’ll forget about him in no time. You’ll scream my name when?—”

A loud bang from outside cuts him off mid-sentence, like something hitting the roof. He turns his attention to the door, and that’s the distraction I need. I raise the scissors over my head and stab him with them as I swing the rope in the air, watching the thick knot at the end hit him right in the face.

He grunts in pain and takes a step backward. I jump up and slap both my hands on his ears to disorient him—Linda’s training is still vivid in my mind. Then I hold his head and knee him in the guts—Lori taught me something too.

I’ve never considered myself bloodthirsty, but I want to see the man who hurt Uri pay for what he’s done. I want to crush him, pulverize him, make him cry like a baby.

As traitorous tears spill out, I grab the scissors still poking out of his shoulder and yank them out as my booted foot pushes against his groin. Trent yells as he loses his balance and falls back on the glass table. His weight and gravity do the rest; pieces of shattered glasses fly in every direction as he drops on the floor. The gun that was on top of the table rolls near my feet, and I grab it as I let go of the rope.

Taking the safety off, I point it at his face, and I’m on him again before he can move. I start kicking him on his sides, his chest, his dick. “Uri is not my brother! He’s the love of my life, you sicko bastard!” I growl, letting out all my pent-up wrath and fear and sorrow.

Uri is fine. Uri is fine.I keep repeating it to myself as I continue beating the fucker up. I impale his hand with the scissors and hear him wail. Before he can cover his face, I press the sole of myboot to his cheek and twist it in a way that would make a person choke with nausea.

“Pray he’s fine, or I’ll kill you like the piece of shit you are,” I pant, giving his face a last stomp with the heel of my boot.

After knocking him out, I give myself a moment to breathe, then I check his pockets. No phone. No car keys. I turn to the door and rush out of the bedroom into the living room. I glance quickly around: a small kitchen, a sofa, and a TV. I don’t want to stay inside this cottage a moment longer; I need to get out of here and find a way to contact Uri, to make sure he’s okay.

I bolt outside. All I can see are white trees. I can’t feel the cold with all the adrenaline rushing through my veins. The sun is rising, and there’s no visible trail I can follow. Damn it! I need to get to Uri. I need to see he’s okay. The sound of water makes me turn to my left. It’s a stream. If I follow it downhill, my chances of finding a road or a trail might increase.

Hearing a noise behind me, I start running, tripping over branches, pine needles whipping at my eyes. I nearly fall face-first onto the snowy ground and catch myself at the last moment on a branch—the rough bark scratches my palm, and my wrist screams in agony. I’m panting, my breaths raspy. The air is cold, but the breaths I’m swallowing are hot.

“Sariel,” someone calls my name from behind me. I grit my teeth and fight against the terror invading my body. The bald guy and the driver are still out there.

I spin around, lift the gun, and aim it at the figure walking slowly toward me. For a second, I think it is Uri, and my heart stops beating. But the more I look, the more I sense that there’s something wrong. The way he walks is too stiff. His shouldersare too wide. And there’s not even a single flap of butterfly wings in my belly as he comes closer. There’s only one explanation: the man approaching me is Ezra.

“Take some deep breaths, you’re running out of oxygen.” His voice is deeper and raspier than Uri’s. His eyes slightly darker and colder as he halts a few feet away from me.

The resemblance is uncanny. But I can easily see all the little differences in the wider nose, rounder lips, mole-less cheek. A fine stubble travels the ridge of his too angular jaw. His expression is unreadable, his demeanor calm and collected.

I keep my gun up as I utter his name. “What are you doing here?” He can’t have been in cahoots with Trent. Could he?

“I was outside the restaurant when you were kidnapped. I followed you here.”

That’s plausible since Ezra likes to watch us for some weird reason. But I’m still suspicious. “Then why didn’t you come to help me?”


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