Liberty

by Kirsty Dallas

  Suddenly, a loud shot echoed through the air, and Dozer flew back a few feet, part of his head torn away. At the same time, Ink reached into his jacket and pulled out a knife, throwing in a single, fluid moment of beauty. The knife buried in the throat of the soldier who had killed Skye. Men shouted, guns were raised, and my mind struggled to keep up with what was happening.

  “Don’t shoot,” Jebediah roared, and his men obeyed, though none of them lowered their weapons.

  Jeze didn’t move her gun from its aim on Ink, her arm outstretched as she stood protectively by her brother.

  Jebediah was breathing hard and pacing frantically. “I thought I told you not to do that… I thought I told you there would be repercussions if you killed another of my men,” he hissed. “Are you stupid enough to have any other weapons on you?” Ink didn’t say a word and remained still. “Search him… and if that fucker up there with the sniper rifle takes out another of my men, I will have my own sniper take out your Grace.”

  Another crack of gunfire and the snow right beside my hand kicked up. Instinctively I wiggled away, my heart thumping wildly under the cage of my chest.

  “See, I have a sniper too. Best investment I’ve made in years.”

  Ink’s jaw ticked as he was searched, his eyes never leaving Jebediah. Inside them was the promise of death. Ink was beyond livid, retribution was nigh.

  A giggle burst free from my mouth, and it tumbled quickly into slightly hysterical laughter. Leaning forward, I wiped the tears from my eyes with my good hand, before righting myself, and peering up into the perplexed face of Jebediah.

  “You finally fall from your tree, little bird?” he asked.

  I ignored him, my eyes finding the man who was the center of my universe. Our crazy, violent world seemed to fade away at the sight of him. Just having him so close centered me, steadied me. There was no confusion on his face at my little outburst, just quiet acceptance, and he offered me an imperceptible nod of understanding. Face, fear, fight. We were facing our enemy, we’d show them no fear, and even though I didn’t believe we would survive this night, we were going to take as many of these bastards to the ground with us.

  My gaze settled back on Jebediah having found the same quiet resolve that consumed Ink.

  “You’re going to die tonight.”

  He didn’t laugh at my words, he didn’t even grin. Instead, for a fleeting heartbeat in time, he looked uncertain. “Get her out of the way,” Jebediah growled as he shoved one of his men in my direction.

  Hauled to my feet, I didn’t fight as I was moved to one side. The dead were dragged out of the way with little care or fanfare. Jedediah’s militia began to form in a large crude circle, Ink standing in its center.

  “Ink, Ink, Ink,” Jebediah crooned as he paced within the circle. “This could have gone a whole other way. You could have obeyed, survived, thrived. You could have had that little bird in your bed until you were old, limp and gray.”

  Ink’s eye twitched as he began slowly unzipping his thick jacket. “You and I both know that’s a load of bullshit. There’s no way you were ever going to let me live. I’m a threat to you.”

  Jebediah laughed his trademark manic cackle. “That is true. However, the people behind you might have survived. They can’t stay in there forever, and the minute they come tumbling out those doors, begging for food and water, I’m going to slaughter them. Every. Single. One.” He held up his hand and closed the gap between his pointer finger and thumb. “Even the itty bitty little ones.”

  We had run out of time. Food was low, water was scarce, the people would have no choice but to leave the barracks, and in doing so, they’d find nothing but death. Throwing his jacket to one side, Ink seemed to grow in size before my eyes, his strong physique clearly visible beneath the long-sleeved shirt and military cargo pants. He didn’t argue, he didn’t play into Jebediah’s mind games. Instead, his entire body seemed to tense and flex as he prepared for battle. Stretching his neck from one side to the other, Ink turned his back on Jebediah and found the man they called Bricks. He was a scary looking beast with a hideous scar dissecting one eye and ending at his jaw, his flat lips downturned into a brooding scowl. His face had a look that reminded me of a picture of a dog I’d once seen in a book—a Bulldog.

  “Let’s get this show on the road already.”

  Jebediah clearly bristled at Ink’s brush off, yet barked out orders for Brick to make his way into the circle.

  “Jeze,” Jebediah snarled.

  His sister obediently moved, having finally holstered her weapon, walking through the snow to one end of the large area they had established for the fight. Pulling a huge knife out of a holster on her thigh, she stabbed the blade into the icy ground. Walking to the opposite side of the circle, someone handed her another which she slammed into the ground blade first, just like she’d done with the other.

  “Rules are for pussies,” Jebediah shouted and his men chuckled, some giving shouts of agreement. “There are no rules. You each have the opportunity to use a weapon, and you may arm yourself at your leisure. You fight until only one is left breathing.” Turning in a dramatic flair, his coat spinning out from his body, Jebediah stalked to where I stood at the edge of the circle. “Fight!”

  Holding my injured hand close to my chest, my entire body tensed as I watched Bricks turn and dash for his weapon. Ink ignored the knife protruding from the ice behind him, and instead raced after Bricks. The thickset man was fast, but Ink was faster, and with a lunge and an outstretched hand he took him to the ground. They rolled, Ink being tossed to one side before he jumped to his feet with an agile grace which was both beautiful and frightening, then he kicked Bricks in the face, the maneuver flipping the barrel of a man to his back. With a shake of his head and a roll, Bricks quickly climbed back onto those legs as thick as tree stumps.

  Ink easily ducked a solid punch and managed to land a right hook to Bricks’ ugly face, throwing a spray of blood across the icy ground. Bricks roared before ducking down and running at Ink, scooping him up around the waist and dumping him on the hard-packed snow. I felt Ink’s pained grunt as if it were my own. With the agility and power he was renowned for, Ink twisted and lifted a knee into Bricks’ groin. Thick arms barely caught his fall from where he’d been positioned over Ink, and all it took was a hard shove to roll him away. Rising to one knee, Ink reached for the man’s head while he writhed on the ground, and between two sure and sturdy hands, he glared at Jebediah as he snapped his first opponent’s neck.

  A whisper of disbelief escaped my lips. He’d beaten Bricks so easily. With wonder, I watched as Ink stood to his full height, his chest rising and falling hard, but not a drop of blood marred his ferocious beauty.

  “Such a fucking shame,” Jebediah murmured from beside me. “Sawyer!”

  The next man moved into the circle, his head held high. His face was far more symmetrical and scar-free than the last, with smooth, olive skin, dark hair and an arrogant smirk that some women would probably find attractive. I hated it. I hated everything about him, especially the dead look in his eyes as he approached Ink. Having already removed his coat, Sawyer stopped several feet away and rolled his head.

  “I can’t decide if I want to defeat you or not,” the man said clearly, his words causing my brow to dip into a confused furrow. “Knowing you would become Jeze’s bitch…it’s almost worth losing.”

  Every time I heard her name mentioned I wanted to draw blood and my feet moved of their own accord, taking me two steps into the circle when hard, unforgiving hands dragged me back to my position beside Jebediah. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill them all, and when I moved to shake off the grip that held me in place, I found Jeze staring at me. Her. I wanted to kill her.

  Unmoving, I continued to stare, imagining all the different ways I could take her life. It had to be up close and personal. I needed to feel her body slacken with death, I needed to see the life leave her eyes. Almost as if she could read my thoughts, her lips rose i
nto something that resembled a smug smile before she turned her attention back to the fight before us. She hadn’t submitted to my glare, she’d simply dismissed me. I had no doubt this woman had a lifetime of mistakes under her belt, too many to count, but her easy dismissal of me would be her final one.

  Her failure to see me as a threat would be her downfall.

  CHAPTER 28 – Ink

  Seeing Trigger hit Grace had shifted something fundamental inside of me. Where Gracie had managed to thaw my heart, watching her be beaten iced it over again. The only care in my world, my Gracie, was a flicker of a flame in a blinding darkness, and while that flame danced with constant life, I embraced the darkness. I sought it out, I breathed it deep into my soul. Death and destruction lived inside me now, I had to make them all fucking bleed, especially Trigger. Jebediah’s men were still watching the barracks, but the fight was a perfect distraction. Fury was now in charge of my soldiers inside and would take the lead in our final stand. We had no other options—our time was up.

  My gaze left the dead body at my feet and singled out my flame, my Gracie. She looked a mess. Her broken hand clutched against her chest, her face battered, blood was smudged across one cheek. But her shoulders were pressed back, her body screaming defiance, even while facing death. And fuck if that didn’t burn, the thought of her dying. I didn’t want to accept it, while my rational brain knew there was no way we were walking away from this. I would do everything in my power to keep her safe. I’d drag my bleeding body over hot coals just to reach her and protect her, but I knew this was our final stand, and people were going to die. Gracie and I were on the front line, our death was as sure as the sun rising tomorrow.

  My next opponent strolled out into the circle, a sneer on his face, smug words slung to try and dig under my skin. They bounced right off my darkness, nothing could get into that impenetrable obscurity. Dragging my gaze from Gracie was like tearing my body in half, but I pinned my hatred and anger on my new enemy. Sawyer. Confident, cocky, a killer. I could see it in his dull eyes, there was no humanity in there, only death. He couldn’t match the darkness inside me though, he didn’t have the same motivation, and he hadn’t just watched a man snap his heart and soul’s bones like they were meaningless twigs.

  Rolling my shoulders, I turned my back on the dead body and strolled into the center of the circle.

  “Maybe you want to be Jeze’s bitch.” His smile looked wicked, but those eyes remained empty.

  I didn’t speak, I wasn’t here to talk. Instead, I lurched into action. Swinging around, I raised my leg in an arc, relishing the sound of my boot landing on his face, sending him flying back into the snow. A small smile cracked my icy composure as Sawyer shook his head and rose to his feet, wiping blood from his nose which smeared the red mess across his face.

  Settling into a battle stance, feet spread, knees bent, and arms raised, the cocky fucker came at me. I met him hit for hit, his fists brutal and fast. The adrenaline in my body gifted me energy that would otherwise be lagging, and I breathed deep for the oxygen that deprived my lungs. My foot slid on a section of hard ice and Sawyer took the advantage, managing to get a punch through my defense, pounding the side of my head. Gritting my teeth through the pain, I ducked and slipped a right hook into his kidneys. Dancing back a couple of steps, I shook out the ringing in my ears and felt something trickle over my skin and down my brow. Blood. Wiping it away before it had a chance to fall into my eye, I kept my gaze on Sawyer who stormed toward me. He continued to throw punches which I blocked, ducked and weaved.

  Spinning, I jabbed an elbow into his bowed head which caught his chin, throwing him backward. Falling, he rolled with the momentum, and when he came to his feet he was grinning feverishly. Sweat and blood tried to seep into my vision, and with a shake of my head, I flicked it away. Sawyer slowly raised his hand, and I realized why he looked so goddamned smug. One long, sharp blade rested in his fist. We’d fought our way across the circle, and I hadn’t even realized how close to a weapon we had moved.

  Wasting no time, Sawyer flew forward and slashed at my chest. The blade sliced through my shirt, barely a whisper against my flesh. With the knife held in a hammer grip and the blade reversed, pointing back at him, I watched as he sliced and stabbed with skill. This was a trained fighter, and it was obvious he was more than comfortable with the blade. Allowing him to take a few swings at my body, I used my forearms to knock away each strike while I watched him fight, searching for any weakness. Another slice and this time the burning sting at my bicep told me he’d found purchase.

  Lunging forward, the knife was plunged toward my middle, and I scrambled backward and ducked down on my haunches, missing the blow by less than an inch. When I rose to my feet, it was with my palm flexed open as I slammed it into Sawyer’s nose. Roaring through the pain, he was momentarily blinded with tears.

  Now he had a weakness, his vision was compromised. Stepping into his body, I took another wild slash from the knife across my chest as I punched him in the nose I’d just broken. Sawyer fell to his knees, blood gushing, and his eyes blinking rapidly to move away the watery blur.

  A loud explosion, followed by an agonizing pain in my thigh made me stumble, and I quickly back peddled away from my target as I tried to figure out what the fuck had just happened. Glancing down I found blood pooling from my upper thigh. Behind me, I could hear Gracie screaming her throat raw. Had I been shot? Turning, my incredulous gaze found Jebediah with one of his embellished guns held in a tight grip with his arm outstretched.

  “Well, how about that,” he said, as silence descended upon us. “It was fifty-fifty as to whether I would hit you or my own man, lucky fucking break.”

  “You fucking shot me?” I growled with disbelief.

  “My game, my rules.”

  Holstering his weapon, Jebediah grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. Testing my weight on my injured leg made me wince. It fucking burned, but this pain I could handle. My own pain was like an aphrodisiac, feeding me proof I was alive, that my body was a weapon and I would continue to fight until my heart took its last pounding beat. It was Gracie’s pain that tore me in two. Glancing her way, I noticed a soldier had her held in his unforgiving grip, a palm shoved over her mouth to silence her.

  “Get your hands off my woman,” I snarled, my voice barely recognizable to even myself.

  The fucker grinned at me before slowly removing his hand. Sawyer’s heavy boots in the snow were a loud roar in the silent night as he approached me from behind. Ducking and rolling, I popped back up to my feet, my thigh screaming at me, and punched the fucker in the kidneys. I loved his rumble of pain, it fed me, energized me.

  Snapping out my hand, I circled his wrist and found the pressure point, jamming my fingers into the soft flesh. Unable to maintain the grip on his knife, he roared with a mixture of agony and frustration as it fell to the ground. With a quick jab to the throat, I silenced him. Ducking to reach for the weapon, I flicked the blade around in my hand until I found the comfortable grip resting in my palm, then I thrust it deep into Sawyer’s stomach. It sliced through as if I were butchering a plate of butter. The action brought me into his body and seeing the panic and pain in his eyes, so up close and personal, was glorious.

  “Give me a few minutes…” I hissed. “And I’ll send Jeze to hell with you. Then she can be your bitch!”

  Twisting the knife, I imagined the blade rupturing organs and slicing tissue. Wrenching it from his body, I flicked the dripping blood away. Sawyer swayed on the spot for a moment before taking an unsteady step toward me, not ready to give in even though the wound I’d inflicted was a mortal one. Knocking away his weak punch, I swung and dug the blade of the knife into his flank before standing tall and reversing my grip on the knife as I ran it across the tendons of his throat.

  With blood pouring from gruesome wounds, Sawyer fell to his knees, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. It didn’t take long for his eyes to fade and his face to go slack as he crumpled int
o the snow. With morbid fascination I watched his blood, his very life-force, bleed out into the mud and slush like a river having escaped its banks. My vision wavered, my body staggering to one side as my own blood loss began to catch up with me.

  A slow clap tugged my attention away from Sawyer’s body. Jebediah strolled toward me, the clap increasing until he was grinning like a lunatic and standing only a few short feet away. My hand clenched the knife. I could so easily lunge forward and end him, sink the blade into his chest and find his black heart.

  “Tut, tut, tut,” Jebediah purred. “Don’t forget I have my very own sniper, and he will put a bullet in that thick skull of yours, Ink. You won’t get one step before your head explodes and I wear your brain splatter like an exquisite cloak.”

  “He can’t fight Jeze with the bullet in his leg, that’s not fair.” Gracie suddenly appeared beside me, her frightened eyes dropping to my wounded leg.

  Jebediah rolled his eyes. “Who let the bird go?” Turning to face his men, the soldier who had his meaty paw over her lips grinned and took a step forward.

  “Don’t worry boss, I’ll catch her.” The man moved like fluid water, marching toward Gracie with a sick lustful look on his face.

  “Touch her, and I’ll bury this blade in your throat.” Flicking the knife around so I held its blade, I prepared to throw it. I was no expert when it came to knife throwing, but I was highly motivated to hit my target.

  Jebediah held up a hand, stopping his soldier in his tracks. “My dear, little bird, the agreement was your Ink had to fight three of my men, he’s only defeated two. Though, if you wish to call it a day, Ink, I’d be happy to consider this a defeat and take Grace back to my humble abode. My dick hasn’t had a good drenching in a few days, I’m eager to finish this nonsense and fuck for a few hours.”

  His words drove images to my mind that made my blood boil with rage. If he reached for Gracie, I’d attack him, sniper be damned.