My disbelief stunned me before the scorching pain registered. The full brunt of it broadcasted through my body when he ripped the knife out of muscle, fat, and flesh.
His movements were jerky and sloppy, making it clear that stabbing people wasn’t something he did for a living. But fuck if it didn’t hurt like hell. So much worse than anything I’d seen on TV.
“Mads!” Micah bellowed, stark panic on his face as he surged toward me, toward Sterling.
Hot wetness soaked the side of my shirt. Instinct told me to cover the wound with my hand and put pressure on it. Only problem… I didn’t have a free hand to do so. They were both tied to the stupid fucking chair.
This was how I died. In an abandoned warehouse, bleeding out on a dusty, dirty floor in front of my friends and the guy I loved. Murdered. I had to say, this was not how I thought the end would come. Not for me.
I heard the crunch of bone connecting with flesh. “You’re dead, motherfucker,” Micah seethed. A splatter of blood landed on my thigh, but I had no idea if it was mine or Sterling’s.
The blade he’d used to threaten and intimidate me all night clattered to the floor. Micah dropped low, slamming his shoulder into Sterling’s gut and taking them both down.
Heat crawled up my leg, singeing the skin. I felt as if I was on fire. Was it a reaction to being stabbed? The heat deepened, and I couldn’t decide whether the wound at my side or the burning was worse.
It was then that I saw something near my feet had erupted into flames. Kenna’s discarded bag. She’d left it there when Sterling kicked her to the ground.
Spray paint. That’s flammable, right?
Oh shit.
I lifted my eyes, wanting to scream to my friends to run, wanting to warn Micah he was in danger, but that was when the explosion rocked the warehouse.
It had been close. Too fucking close.
All hell broke loose.
The blast knocked me over, chair and all, tossing me backward. I hit the ground hard, my whole body jerking from the impact. The back of my head smacked the hard surface, my wrists jostled against the rope, fibers of thread rubbing into my skin.
The world went eerily silent for a moment before the ringing started. I whipped my head to the side, away from the swelling flames that blistered the right half of my body, but I couldn’t escape, not tied to a chair. Fear and frenzy clawed violently within me like a headless beast.
Despite the pain and terror coursing through my veins, thoughts of Micah overtook the agony I suffered. Where was he? Had the explosion knocked him around as it had me? Was he hurt? What if Sterling managed to find the knife?
Rotted and decayed beams started to fall from the ceiling, loosened and detached by the explosion. They crashed to the ground, immediately eaten by the raging fire. In less than a minute, it had grown out of control.
I tried to wiggle and scoot myself around to see if I could spot him—see if I could find anyone—but the pain was too much. I was growing weaker. I was losing too much blood too fast, and moving only made it worse. I laid my head down, tears streaming over my cheeks as I watched flames crawl over the floor, engulfing everything in their path. It came straight for me, the wooden chair underneath me kindling for the hungry fire consuming everything in its path.
I was so fucked.
Smoke blanketed the room in a dense fog, and I lost sight of everyone. They could all be dead or unable to move like me. I coughed, the plumes filling my lungs. Heat scorched my legs, advising me that the fire had grown closer. Burning to death was one of my biggest fears. I’d rather die any other way. Hell, I’d rather Sterling stab me to death. Maybe I should just beg the asshole to finish me off before the fire ate me alive, but I didn’t know where he was. He could have run for all I knew, leaving me to perish in this building.
The coughing wouldn’t stop. I had no way to prevent my lungs from inhaling the smoke-coated air. My eyes grew heavy, and although my outer flesh was fiery, inside I shivered, an iciness flowing into every crevice of my body.
I didn’t want to die alone. I didn’t want to die at all, but if this was my time, I longed to be with someone I loved. Someone who loved me. Someone to tell me not to be afraid. Someone to hold my hand until the final second.
“Mads,” a voice called. They called again and again, repeating my name yet sounding so very far away.
Micah, my mind cried in answer. I couldn’t tell if it was the impending unconsciousness, my damaged hearing, or the burning building that made him sound as if he was calling me from another dimension.
I opened my mouth to tell him to leave, to get out of here, but smoke filled the space and I coughed instead. A shadowy figure stumbled through the heavy smoke, jumping over a wall of flames that boxed me in.
“Mads.” My name wrenched from his lips as he crouched down beside me, his fingers immediately going to the knots tied at my wrists. “Just hold on. Don’t you dare give up on me. I’m going to get you out of here. Do you hear me?”
Micah wouldn’t leave. The stubborn ass would fight to get me out until his last breath, and that scared the shit out of me. We both couldn’t die in here. I refused to let that happen.
“Get out of here,” I rasped, coughing afterward. The few words cost me.
“Never without you,” he said, freeing one hand and shifting quickly to the other.