The Penalty Box - Teagan Kade Page 0,52
other, hands casually in his lap, eyes darting to the muscle beside me from time to time. “Enough of the small talk, Mr. King. I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here?”
“Fucking enlighten me.”
I reach up. The bleeding hasn’t stopped. It seems to be getting worse, the edges of my vision falling out of focus again. I know from my last run-in that’s not a good sign.
“It’s a shame you had to get involved with my daughter. I’ve seen you on the ice. You’ve got skills, son. You could have gone a long way.”
I don’t like the way he’s talking in past tense. “I am going a long way,” I correct him, glancing out the window as the limo takes a side road, trees filling the frame. I’m losing track of where we are. Fifteen minutes out of Crestfall and you’re in the sticks.
“We’re married, you know.”
I see Rex’s usual composure crack at the word, but he manages to pull himself back, tugging at his suit jacket. “So I’ve heard.”
“I said we are married, you worthless piece of shit. We’re married, it’s official, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”
“Is that so?”
I nod. “That’s right.”
His eyes grow icy and cold. “I could make her a widow. I could do that.”
I don’t know if it’s the cut in my head, the pain that’s become blunted and dull at the back of it, but I suppress a shiver.
I rally myself. Pull it together. Don’t let him get to you.
“You’re not going to do shit.”
“That, young King, is where the killer instinct comes into it.”
He nods to the goon beside me.
I don’t see the knife coming. All I feel is the blade burying itself deep in my side, nudging up against something I pray isn’t vital.
There is a moment of disbelief it has come to this, a strange disconnection that takes over.
The big guy grunts and drives the knife in again. I barely feel it this time, only note the way the handle stops it going right through me.
Rex waves his hand. “Get rid of him.”
The knife is pulled away. I can’t believe the heat that follows, the searing burn at my side.
The goon reaches past me to the door handle, the passenger door swinging wide. He places his hand against my shoulder and pushes.
Before I know it, I’m out the car rolling along beside it in the dirt, the black square of it fading from sight.
Not good.
Not good at all.
I do my best to tamp down the panic and concentrate only on the details, the facts.
I’m in the middle of nowhere.
I have to stay conscious.
I can’t let myself fall into shock.
I’ve taken some big hits on the ice, but the pain I feel in my side is different. It has a bite to it, an urgency that terrifies me. I don’t want to bleed out here on the side of the road, not when Rex is still out there, not when he can still get to Linnea. I need to keep her safe whatever it takes.
I manage to roll onto my back. Above me, clouds draw out like long fingers. At least it’s mild. There’s that.
Pressure, I think.
I place a hand against the stab wound and grit my teeth in agony when I apply pressure, hot blood filling the space between my fingers.
I look sideways and note the road isn’t sealed, so we’re rural.
I’m bleeding heavily, one or maybe two stab wounds to the side, somewhere between a rib maybe? But I’m no doctor.
I wait there a minute or two watching the clouds, but one thing becomes abundantly clear: If I don’t start moving, I’m going to die here. Not a single car has passed by. It’s up to me to get back to civilization.
I use my free hand to pat down my pockets hoping I was wrong about my cell, but it’s not there.
There’s nothing else for it.
I count to three and manage to sit up bent in half, a flash of pain from my side that makes it hard to breathe. My shirt’s soaked. When I manage to stand, I feel it against my thigh, dripping down the inside of a pant leg.
It’s a hell of a lot hotter when I start walking, but it soon swings the other way. I can’t seem to control my body temperature anymore. The sweat’s cold on my forehead but everywhere else it’s bonfire night.
I make my way into the middle of the road and start to walk hoping to find