I would do anything.
Anything.
As Todd spreads my cheeks and puts the head of his cock against me, I know it’s going to hurt, but the worst part is knowing that Sam is watching, and hearing her sob like her heart is breaking. I know if I let myself, I could cry with her. I could break down and sob like I haven’t sobbed since I was twelve years old, wondering if my sister was going to be killed by the man who had abducted her.
But I’m not going to cry. I can’t.
Not if I want to be ready.
And I’m going to be ready. He’s not going to get away with this. He’s not going to walk away this time.
He begins to push forward and I fight my own instincts, forcing myself to relax, knowing it will hurt so much more if I fight, knowing that I can’t afford to be hurt that bad if I’m going to make him pay. But just before he breaches the tight ring of my ass, thunder booms through the clearing and his knife falls away from my stomach.
A second later, the pressure of his cock is gone and I hear a heavy thud as his body tumbles to the ground behind me.
Before I can fully comprehend that it’s over or that the sound I heard wasn’t thunder, but a gunshot, Sam is by my side, helping me up and pulling me into her arms. As I lean into her, I look down at the ground to see Todd’s lifeless eyes staring up at the sky, a bullet hole through the center of his forehead.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sam chants, her hands running over my body as if she can banish all the ugliness with her touch.
And she can. She will.
“Don’t be sorry,” I say, trying not to shake as I lift my arms between us. “Just untie me. And we’ll finish this.”
“I’m sorry,” she says again, sobbing as she tugs at the knots holding my hands together. “I had to wait until he wasn’t looking at me. I had to be sure I could get the shot in before he cut you again.”
“It’s okay.” I roll my wrists, bringing sensation back into my fingers before reaching back to tug my boxers back up around my hips. But the movement makes Sam sob again and I wish I’d waited.
“I’m fine,” I insist, shifting until I can sit and take her hands in mine. I wait until she looks up at me, tears spilling from her big blue eyes. The lantern light isn’t that bright, but I can see how much she’s hurting, how much she blames herself, and I refuse to let that happen.
“Please don’t hate me,” she whispers.
I don’t say a word. I cup her face in my hands, pull her close, and take away her pain.
I consume her tears, kissing them away with my lips and tongue, taking all of her sadness into myself because I can handle it. I can handle it because she saved me from the nightmare she lived through. She saved me and there is no reason for her to cry for something that didn’t happen.
Finally, her tears stop and my lips find hers and we kiss. And it is sweet and intense and filled with gratitude. It is all I wanted in those moments when I thought I was going to die. By the time we pull apart, tears are rolling down my cheeks, but they aren’t sad tears.
I’m just so damned grateful.
“Don’t be sad,” I say, blinking fast, determined to pull myself together. “I love you. I don’t blame you. Even if it had happened, I wouldn’t have blamed you. You are mine and I could never hate you. No matter what.”
“I love you,” she says, brushing the tears from my cheeks with tender hands. “I don’t ever want to see you in danger again. Promise me, never again.”
“I can’t promise that,” I say. “Because the world is a shitty place full of terrible people, but I promise I’ll always have your back. And I’ll know I’m a lucky bastard that you have mine.”
She leans in, hugging me tight for a long moment before she kisses my cheek and reaches down to untie the ropes binding my calves together. “Let’s get out of here.”
“The sooner, the better.” Once I’m free, we grab Todd’s knife from where it fell to the ground and hurry back to the cars, circling around the pit where either Jeremy or J.D. is moaning. We start our car, breathing twin sighs of relief when it turns over easily, the battery not drained by the time spent with the lights on.
Pulling out my pack, I shove my ruined jeans inside and grab a pair of shorts, tugging them on before taking the gun from Sam and wiping it down, getting all her prints off, while she takes a bleach rag to the bat and the knife. After, I wrap the gun and the bat together in the plastic from the trunk.