David coughs a gurgling, desperate breath through the gaping slit. A rush of blood sprays across Sloane’s face. She doesn’t blink as she lets her gaze travel over every detail of his pain and fury, her smile dark and triumphant as his dimming eyes glare back.
“I don’t really like guns,” she says and grips his hair in a tight fist. She pulls the blade free with her other hand. “Too loud. No finesse.”
She plunges the scalpel into his eye. David’s scream is nothing but a sputtering burst of crimson spray.
Then she lets him fall to the floor.
Blood spreads in a thick pool over the tiles. Sloane stands with her back to me as she watches David’s desperate movements slow and still, and even when they stop, she remains there, staring down at him as though she needs to be sure he won’t get up again.
“Are you okay?” she asks without turning around, her voice a quiet rasp.
I survey my bleeding arm where the skin has been flayed from the throbbing flesh beneath. My cheek and ribs pulse where I’ve taken his early blows. The corkscrew still ticks with the quickened beat of my heart, but it probably looks worse than it is.
“I wouldn’t mind getting out of this chair, but yeah. I’ll be fine.”
Sloane nods, then falls into silence, her gaze still pinned to the body on the floor.
“Sloane…”
She doesn’t move.
“Sloane, love—”
“No.”
“Um… Blackbird?”
Still nothing.
“…Peaches?”
Her head whips to the side and she pins me with a glare over her shoulder. But there are tears there too, streaking through the blood splashed across her cheeks. “I told you I’d cut you if you called me that again.”
“Blackbird it is.” I give her a weak smile. There’s worry in her eyes as she takes me in, but hurt too, and it fucking consumes my soul. “Love, I—”
“Shut up,” she snaps, and pulls her phone from her pocket. A heartbeat later, the sound of its ring precedes my brother’s voice.
“Well done. My friend Conor is right outside. Do you want him to come in?” Lachlan asks.
“No. Thanks for sending reinforcements though.”
“You okay?”
“Sure.” Sloane watches me over her shoulder. Tears still glass her eyes, even though the look she gives me is fucking lethal. “Your asshole brother needs…skin. I could use help with cleanup, too.”
Lachlan chuckles. “Fionn is already on his way. I know some people for cleanup—give me an hour for that. Conor will watch the door until they get there.” There’s a pause, and when Lachlan speaks again, his voice is soft and serious. “Thank you for looking after my brother, Sloane.”
“Log out of my video feed. I don’t want you to watch in case I change my mind and kill him myself.”
“Do me a favor and give him a big sloppy kiss instead,” Lachlan says.
She responds with an aggrieved grunt and disconnects the call before tossing the phone on the prep table with a clang.
She turns to me then, her eyes blazing and her arms crossed. “I’m counting this as a win.”
“That’s fair.”
“That’s three for me. Best of five.”
“Deserved. Totally.”
“And I’m still very angry with you.”
“I get it, love.”
“I want to stab you.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. Please not my dick though. Or my balls. Or my pretty face.”
Sloane’s lips tremble. Her hard expression crumbles and recovers to a stoic mask, only to fall a second time. The red spatters and streaks on her face are so achingly beautiful, her tears so fucking agonizing. “You broke my heart.”
“I know, love. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. You know I only did it to get you away from him, don’t you? I had to get you out of here or he was going to kill you.”
The tears in Sloane’s eyes shift and shine as they gather at her lash line. “I am not unloveable.” She jabs her bloody finger in my direction, punctuating every word. “I am very fucking loveable.”
I’m desperate to just touch her, even for a moment, as though seeing she’s okay is not enough. “Love… please… just let me out of this chair so we can talk properly.” Sloane’s forehead crinkles as she tries to hold on to her ferocity and fails, and when I give her a little smile, she can’t help herself—her gaze drops to my scar and lingers there. “Come on, Blackbird. Let me up so I can prove to you that I fucking love you to pieces. Maybe I’ll take that first aid kit by the door too if you don’t mind.”