Queen of Quarantine (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep #4) - Caroline Peckham Page 0,227

up to press down against it. I turned, looking for an exit wound in the mirror, but didn't find one. So the little metal fucker was still in there then. Good. I wasn't going to be taking it out myself either. I just needed to stop the bleeding for long enough to help the people I loved.

I turned and looked around the bloodstained bathroom, spotting a bag by the door and limping towards it. Inside, I found the weapons that had been taken from us when we were captured, and the corner of my mouth lifted into a smirk as I took the blowtorch from the middle of the guns before turning to hunt for my knife.

It had ended up in a corner and I stumbled towards it with more grunts of pain. I swear the bastard bullet hole hurt more now than it had while I was fighting for my motherfucking life.

I managed to grab the knife, kissing it for staying faithful to me before returning to my spot by the sink.

This was going to hurt like a bitch.

I lit the blowtorch and lifted the blade of my knife to the flame, heating it and sanitising it in one. I was practically a full-blown surgeon. Who needed some fancy degree and years of training?

When the blade was hot enough, I took a deep breath, pulled the bloodstained shirt away from the bullet hole and gritted my teeth.

This was either one of the worst or one of the best ideas I'd ever had. Only one way to find out for sure though.

I came damn near to screaming as I pressed the burning hot blade to my flesh, cauterising the wound and clenching my jaw so hard I was surprised I didn't bust a tooth.

It hurt. No, fuck that, hurt wasn't close to what it felt like. It was an exquisite kind of agony reserved only for the foulest of demons who resided within the deepest depths of hell. And I must have been one of them because somehow, I'd earned their pain too.

I held on for as long as I could before my fingers seemed to spasm of their own volition, the knife falling from my grasp and clattering loudly into the sink. I grasped the edge of the porcelain basin as I panted, my eyes clamped shut as I waited for the agony to fade and fought against the urge to black out again. The speaker was playing Numb by Linkin Park now and I couldn't help but wish for some numbness of my own to get me through this.

But I didn't need that. I had the best motivation in the world to keep moving, keep going, keep living. She had hair that shone like sunlight and wouldn't for one second put up with me bitching out and giving in now. And I wasn't going to let her down.

I opened my eyes, glaring into the mirror and looking at the darkness in them, seeing the monster in me more clearly than ever before as I gave myself to that part of my soul and let it take over. My gaze fell to the bullet hole and I was pleased to find I'd stopped that fucker in its tracks. No more blood. Which meant it was time to go.

I took a deep breath, grabbed my knife and turned for the exit. The bag of guns was too much for my weakened body to deal with and I cursed as I grabbed a couple of pistols, shoving them in the back of my pants before opening the door.

The room outside was lit up though thankfully empty and I could see it was a games room of some kind with poker tables laid out and unused.

I stumbled through the wide space, trying to hear beyond the pounding of my own pulse to anything that might help me find the others.

I was breathless by the time I made it across the room, and I stumbled before I made it to the door, smacking into a panel on the wall which popped open as I pushed myself upright again.

I looked inside at the circuit breaker, my eyebrows going up as I searched for the main power switch. I may have been all kinds of fucked up, but I was still a predator. And I had to think I'd hunt best in the dark.

My lips twitched as I reached out and flipped the switch, knocking the lights and every other electrical item in the building