She was going for his jugular. I felt another stab of fear. I’d wanted her to be brave, but not like this.
Dorsey lunged at her. “Don’t lie to me. You wanted it… You begged.” The look on his face said he believed it.
Nicole stepped backward out of his reach, stumbling a little, that familiar look of defiance sharpening at his words. I wanted to scream at her, No, not now, but she kept pushing. “I couldn’t wait to leave. I’ve been counting down the days.”
The Chief grabbed for her and I screamed, but she dodged his grasp, turned to me, and hissed, “Come on,” then took off. I knew we were outnumbered, two deer against a pack of wolves, but it was now or never, run or die. So I ran.
We exploded into the trees just as a terrible roar sounded, Dorsey yelling after us, the Paters launching into motion. I seized Nicole’s hand and pulled her faster, no longer a thinking thing but an animal, determined to survive.
I would have run forever if they’d let me. I would’ve never stopped, never slowed, would have gone on moving until my legs buckled. Except Nicole cried out, and her hand jerked from mine, and without it, I tumbled forward.
I caught myself and spun back. But she was on the forest floor, stretched out on her back, arms outstretched to shield herself, eyes wide in terror. Dorsey seized her by the ankles, dragged her so swiftly her head bounced against the tree roots and she cried out.
“No!” I screamed. “Nicole!”
“Why’d you have to do it?” the Chief yelled, towering over her. “Why are you making me do this to you?” The look on his face was the same he’d worn when Laurel, Clem, and I went to him for help twelve years ago, the same he’d worn when I questioned him in his office, except now the rage was no longer hinted but unleashed, the true sight of it flooring me, stealing my breath.
Nicole twisted, trying to fight him, but he pinned her. She scratched his face, a vicious bloody swipe across his cheek, and suddenly there was no more wondering What was he capable of, no more How far would he go, because Adam Dorsey bent over, grabbed the face of the woman who’d dared to flee him, and cracked her head against a rock, the intensity of his rage matched only by the scream filling the woods, an animal howl heating the cold, a noise that seemed to come from me.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Nicole was a tree on the forest floor. Transformed like the nymphs before her, paying with their lives to escape men’s hunger. She lay still and hollow as a fallen log, eyes locked on the skyline, on the hilltops in the distance.
There was so much blood I slipped in it, running at Adam Dorsey with the force of a train, grappling without pause over roots and rocks, hungry for the moment he tore his gaze away from what he’d done and realized I was coming. And there it was: his head snapped, shoulders stiffening, arms raising like a shield, but it was too late. I barreled into him and down we fell. He was large, his heaviness knocking the wind from me, but my hands found the metal of my switchblade and yanked it out of my shirt, flipping the blade up. I scrambled backward into a crouch and pointed the knife at the chief of police, who lay stunned on the ground.
I squeezed my trembling fingers around the hilt. The last time I’d held a knife was in the kitchen; before that, one of Don’s old antiques, lifted gingerly from its velvet box.
“Put that down.” It was the Disciple, of course, stepping closer with a rope held taut between his hands. He, the Lieutenant, and the Marquis circled the Chief and me, their eyes bright with excitement, traveling from Dorsey’s splayed body to the quivering knife in my hands. Their gazes slid past Nicole like she was already invisible.
“She won’t hurt me,” the Chief said, though he remained tensed. His eyes met mine, those stubby lashes blinking quickly. “The podcast freak. Who would’ve thought?”
“You killed her.” I couldn’t stop my voice from trembling. I’d acted quickly, instinctively, to the sight of Dorsey hurting Nicole, and now I was left with the cold, hard truth. I was surrounded, outnumbered, and I had no idea what to do next. “You’re going to prison.”