Page 41 of Hitched

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Lex draws a breath and reaches for the knife in his pocket. “Just in case a different wolf tries to bite.” He tosses it toward me and it lands in front of me, flattening the grass. It brings back a rush of memories. The way my hand concealed the intricately carved wooden handle. The way the blade blossomed red as I stabbed Bryce over and over again.

Once Lex leaves to go inside, I drop onto my butt and lie down. A broad-winged bird soars overhead, silent and menacing. Cows moo in the pasture beside the house. It’s pretty fucking peaceful, and I need this peace. I wish Lex understood. I don’t want to fight with him over our pasts. I don’t want to participate in a competition about who had the worst childhood. Clearly he did, but it doesn’t negate what happened to me. And I feel negated. We chose different paths—I chose complacency, and he chose violence—but we both chose murder, and that’s where our paths cross.

Something crashes inside the house. I wipe a rogue tear from the crease of my eyes and get to my feet. I pluck the knife from the grass and grip it against my palm. When I get to the porch, I creep up the steps and open the door, controlling it as it closes so it doesn’t make any noise. The crashing grows louder and more violent. It can’t possibly be coming from Lex alone. With quiet footfalls, I follow the loud noises to the living room.

What I see surprises me. A burly farmer has Lex in the same hold Lex held Rodney in, but this fight isn’t nearly as one-sided. My mouth gapes because after everything I’ve witnessed, I would never expect someone to get the upper hand on Lex. The farmer’s hat falls off as the men wrestle. Greasy strands of hair fall over the man’s face. His overalls are ripped and stained.

When Lex catches my eyes for a moment, he mouths, “Go,”to me. I shake my head, never more certain of anything in my life. There’s no way I’m leaving him to save myself.

My heart thumps in my ears as Lex tries to stay in the fight. His pistol glints in the back of his jeans, but I’ll never be fast enough to get to it, nor would I know what to do with it if I managed to get my hands on it.

In my panic, I forget about the knife in my hand. Its weight against my palm finally reminds me of its presence. I slink along the wall, trying to keep the farmer from seeing me. When I accidentally knock over a can of beer, I hold my breath, expecting him to hear. Thankfully, no one hears a damn thing over the grunting and adrenaline. Once I’m flat against the wall behind the farmer, I open the blade and hold it within a familiar grasp. I have no idea how to stab this man, though. I don’t even know if I can. Vengeance propelled my arm when it came to Bryce, but there’s no vengeance now. There’s only the need to protect Lex, and those are two very different reasons for killing.

Fear freezes me in place. I don’t know what to do.

The farmer goes for the gun, and I’m out of time to think. The intense need to protect Lex propels my arm forward as I rush for the farmer and sink the knife into his neck. He lets out a roar, and I squeal as blood streams from beneath the handle.

“Pull it out, Selena! Pull the knife out!” Lex yells, and it sounds like he’s miles away.

With my hand still wrapped around the handle, I try to tug it out, but a suction that wasn’t there when I put it in holds it in place. I wiggle it and it finally gives way with a disgusting squelching sound. The moment the blade leaves his neck, blood escapes the wound in a waterfall, spurting a geyser of crimson with every beat of his heart. The man wobbles on his feet and reaches for his neck. Lex pulls away and rips his pistol from the farmer’s hand, putting it in his waistband where it belongs.

It feels like minutes, but it’s merely seconds before the farmer crashes to his knees. Without uttering another sound, he falls onto his face. I’ve never seen so much blood. Every bit of what was in his body spreads around him on the floor.

“Arterial wound. Very fucking effective, rabbit,” Lex pants. He’s covered in blood, and my arms are sprayed with it, too.

The bleeding I caused.

I back against the wall, the knife still in my trembling hand. As if Lex forgot what murder feels like to unseasoned killers, he doesn’t seem to notice the anguish I’m facing. My stomach churns and I heave, nearly throwing up all over the old hardwood floors. Lex grabs my hair and holds it for me as I fight back the vomit. He rubs my back like he’s comforting someone who bowled a bad game. How can he be so cavalier?

It’s selective of me to forget who Lex really is. It’s too easy to ignore the violent and dangerous side of him that seems as normal as breathing to him.

I stand, feeling the weight of that giant farmer on my shoulders. How will I carry that with me? My eyes widen with fear, not of Lex, but of what I’ve become because of him.

A killer.

I’m not just a battered wife who got revenge. I’m a full-blown fucking murderer.

“It gets easier,” Lex says as he pats my back. He strolls toward the cabinet and starts rooting around. My mouth drops open. He is fucking clinical. Literally sociopathic.

“Easier?” I ask, disgusted.

“Yeah, easier. Meaning you don’t get all worked up about it anymore.”

I blink at him. “You are fucking insane, Lex.”

He closes a cabinet and begins to eat from a bag of chips, bloody hands and all. “Yeah, and?”

Anger courses through me. He’s maddening. “You made me do that!” I scream as I point at the dead farmer, quickly cutting my gaze when it lands on his fixed eyes, the life drained from them.

Lex laughs through a mouthful of chips. “I didn’t make you do a damn thing,” he says with an infuriating calmness. “I told you to go. You had the choice to leave.”

He walks closer, pushes me against the wall, and wrangles the knife from my hand. His breath rolls over my heated skin. “I didn’t make you fuck me or stab your husband. I didn’t make you come with me or stab that man. If you’re going to stay with me, you need to start accepting what you are.”

“And what the hell am I?”

Lex flashes his darkened eyes at me. “You’re no better than me.”

I draw a sharp breath, as if he’s stabbed me beneath my ribs. The air deflates from my lungs, and I shrink in front of him. “I just wanted to protect you...” I whisper.


Tags: Lauren Biel Romance