*Dallas's POV*
I wipe down my black dress shoes and quickly check my reflection before rushing to answer the screeching door bell. Alina's father would be here soon, i asked him to visit with me before her mother's services. I despise the man, but being in good with her family might be the only way to stay in touch with her now. Dealing with Brett is worth it not to be completely shut out from my soon to be ex wife. Ex wife.It really is happening. Once those papers are signed, it's done. She'll likely want to sign them today. I spent the last two years reveling in scandal and flings, salivating at the thought of ditching her. Of being free and finding a woman more my family's caliber. A woman of class, confidence and oozing sex appeal. I found several, but I messed up. As much as I enjoyed the women, they just weren't wife material in the way A
I squeal as I awake, body slick with a thick layer of sweat. I stretched, and tore my good limbs on the briars along the blackberry vines. My body is still aching, and my skin is scorching hot despite the shade and moist earth beneath the bush. I can no longer feel my foot, but I refuse to look at it knowing that the sight would shake me. My head throws, and has a "pulse" thrumming above my ears and between my eyes. Pressure, like a sinus headache. "Fan-freaking-tastic..." I pant. I assume my crawling position, and I wiggle out from the brush. It is still daylight, and I do not know it'd it's the same day or next. I am thirsty though. My tongue feels like sandpaper. Squirrels and birds are flighty in my descent to the creek, and I flop unceremoniously onto my stomach to drink. A turtle ducks back into it's shell across the creek from me and I huff. The best part about drinki
*back to Dallas* It was becoming too hard to keep my cool, after listening to them coordinate a search warrant for both Alina's and Trevor's homes. I kept hearing them discuss arresting Alina as well, and the thought unsettled my stomach. Finally, I said screw it and I walked out of the lobby and to my vehicle ignoring the screeching secretary. Nobody would fill me in. I had no idea what was going on, but I was not about to sit here and listen to them any longer. I begun to worry I had done the wrong thing. What if Alina's dad was right? What if they were really just dealing or something and I accidentally rolled on her and got her into trouble? I could never picture her doing anything of the sort though, but whatever reasons they wished to detain her too, I am certain she is innocent.
"Alina. Alina. Are you awake? I need you up incase we need to move." Dallas?! I sit up and my head spins, I clench my eyes shut and try to give myself a moment to adjust. I am suffering. Physically. Mentally. I know that I am unlikely to leave these woods alive, but my vision of Dallas was so realistic that I had to try to fight. I had nearly given up when I had came to, an image of my father insulting me and beating me. Was that real? Was Sasha real? Hallucinations and reality swirl together, and leave me confused and uncertain. Warm hands support me, and pull me back down. "Dallas?" "Yes. It is me. Do you remember anything?" "I don't know really. Dad. You. I don't remember getting here..." "You
*Kellan's POV* Home. My lips pull back a bit at the word. If it weren't for the situation at hand, I'd take a moment to savor the term she had chosen. She thinks of the cabin as home. I have little time to enjoy such trivial things. She is obviously dying or at least critically ill. There is still one living officer in these woods, and I know that Dallas is here. I seen him dashing away from her earlier as I neared this direction. I had debated killing him. Just shooting him there and being finished with him, he has been a thorn in my side. I don't want to rush his death, but I'm not dragging his ass with us either. Another body to hide or person to babysit and I'm not much on dead weight. Which brings about my current dilemma. I want Alina. She is the most promising woman I've had yet, but how promising will she be now? I'm enthralled that
I'm barely aware of what I'm doing, and even in my typical state of mind I am clueless on how to work a gun. I've never been great at this. But he has to die. I have to kill him. I fired the pistol haphazardly, unable to see well enough to focus. I scoot back as best I can to put distance between myself and the monster before me. Kellan clutches his chest in bewilderment, stunned by my behavior. I have to get distance. He is going to finish me off. He had only lied when he said he would treat me and take me from these woods. He always lies. He just threw me down a bank and tried to kill me. He killed that officer. Now, now he's going to get rid of me. My mind whirls with bits and pieces of threats he had made about killing me if police were involved, of killing my family and once friends. I shoot again, but one handed and with blurry vision I do not ge
I taste the copper in my mouth, long before the slap takes place. In my haste to free myself of Kellan's hand, I bit him which immediately triggered the slap. I'm so used to hurting now that I do not spare a moment to recover, as I scream with everything left in me at the low flying chopper. I can feel my chest deflate as it shows no sign of having seen me or anyone having heard me. Irate, Kellan begins his merciless beating and I know somehow this is it. I'm dead. I miscalculated, again, and now I'll pay. I want to beg to him for some bit of mercy, to tell him that I'm sorry and I understand. That I know now why I have to be trained and disciplined. Polished. I am a fool and a failure, the hole I dig myself is far worse than the fate I tried to avoid. I grab at his boot in vain as it collides over and over with my face. The last thing I see is the sole of his boot and his scowl as he hovers
*let's start with Kellan again* I halt with the saw just touching bone as a screech fills the room. My face contorted with horror, followed by fury as I realize it is Keenan messing with me. I shake my head and start again, wincing as I push the blade through the bone. Her little leg shakes at the force, but she is still out. Despite the tourniquet, there's still mess and it eats at me to see it. To see her like this. To do this. If I hadn't, she would set up sepsis. She would have died. In a way, I saved her life. It certainly does not feel like it. Finally, through the bone the rest goes smoothly and the offensive rotting area is removed. My hands still shake aside place the saw on a nearby bag and use a clean part of my arm to wipe my sweat. Keenan immedi
I'm cold. I'm cold and it's dark. I can't bear to open my eyes yet, so I just exist. Feeling my body jar about on a smooth, chilly surface. What happened? I'm still alive? I don't quite understand yet, but I know I was supposed to be dead. I even feel dead. My body is sore, and numb at the same time. My mouth dry and a piece of fabric tied around my head covers it. No. I shiver. I try to stretch but I realize that I am bound. I can't move. I can't feel my lower half. I panic and try to thrash about, but I can do nothing but shimmy a few inches across the cool surface. A bump jars me again and I plop down roughly from the impact. Am I in a vehicle? I whimper and try to focus my eyes, and to my luck a faint light enters through what I imagine is glass somewhere. My head throbs with the invasion, but soon I