Crash and Burn (1)

anyone who tries to hurt you is not my friend

♚ ♛

"YOU WOULDN'T KILL ME, O," Drew teased, twirling the knife along my collarbone. Every inch dug deeper, just enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to break the skin.

With my breathing coming in short pants, every heave of my chest against the edge of the blade was dangerous.

Screwing my eyes shut, I tried to control it.

Breathe.

In. Out.

"You hurt her, and I will kill you without a second thought."

And just like that, I was hyperventilating again.

Drew let out a low groan. "Ugh, what happened to bros before hoes, O?"

Breathe.

When the knife slipped up along my jaw teasingly, my blood froze. It was an icy fear that completely unleashed an all encompassing rage.

"You fucking bastard!" I seethed, wriggling my torso slightly to loosen his arms around me. "You- I...ah!"

Every curse caught in my throat as he pressed the knife tighter along my chin, ducking to brush his lips against my ear. "He doesn't care if you're a little damaged. Just alive."

I almost wanted to laugh. A little damaged? I was way past a little damaged; I was a fucking disaster.

Some howl of protest bolted out of my lips as I wrestled against his chest, jabbing and jerking and writhing as much as I could.

The knife followed suit, clipping against my chin with enough force to make me cry out. But I couldn't stop.

An uncomfortable burn settled in my lungs with the sudden sting along my jaw. Grinding my teeth together, I felt myself fucking lose it. Every ounce of common sense went out the window. "Let go of me!"

I finally threw a hard enough jab to his gut because he grunted lowly in my ear. It was full of that taunting amusement, as ragged as it was. A breathless chuckle followed. "Seth always said you were a fighter."

"Fuck you!" I hissed, balling my hands into fists and aiming for his thighs. Hoping he would buckle. "Fuck you."

"Mmmm. I always wanted you." He hummed, bringing that rage to a boil at the bottom of my gut. "Never got my chance though."

Anger flooded through me, mixed with some kind of shame that I couldn't decipher. He worked with Seth. He had been waiting for me to be put into the ring.

"I bet Soren did, didn't he?"

My gaze shot up to Soren again, his dark silhouette swirling as he shifted on his feet, somehow holding the gun.

I saw it.

Beyond the barrel of his gun, I saw everything. All the anger and remorse and desperation. Desperation. It was the best weapon. I was a weakness for him.

"Dime. Did he?"

The blade suddenly flattened against my lips, tapping impatiently as he waited for an answer. an icy shiver crawled down my spine with each brush of the cool metal.

I needed to time it right.

Fluttering back and forth to blur between my eyes, the blade flew further away with each tap. In a reckless, careless motion.

"You..." I tried to speak, but I was cut off when the tip of his blade met the corner of my lips.

It was exactly what Soren had done to Mateo earlier. Drew was using his own moves on me in front of him.