Deviant (Boys of Winter #3) - Sheridan Anne Page 0,107
that she’s twice the woman you always wanted to be and more. You’re nothing, and although I know you won’t leave this house without ending my life, just know that the boys will never stop hunting you. They will make you wish that you never even heard the name Elodie Ravenwood.”
Paris just stares at me, her eyes as wide as saucers and her short shallow breaths almost terrifying, and like a switch being flipped, she loses it.
Paris runs at me, her high-pitched battle cry deafening me as she races toward me with her knife. It slams down, impaling the chair right beside my thigh, her crazed, messed up head fucking with her aim. She yanks it out hard. “London Ravenwood was a bitch,” she squeals, attempting to stab me again, but as she comes down at me, I push off the ground and send the chair toppling to the side, crashing down with a hard thump.
The leg of the chair catches her right in the center of her chest and she screams out in pain, but I don’t dare miss my shot. I kick out as hard as I can, catching her in the chest again and sending her crashing back against my dresser.
The whole dresser rocks under her weight and she rights herself, but I don’t doubt that she’s in pain. The little knobs on the dresser would have slammed right into her back, and the shrieking squeal is proof of that—music to my ears.
Paris stares at me as though I’m just as crazy as she is, but in reality, I’m crazier. Only today, I’m doing a better job of concealing it, but if she keeps fucking with me and trying to hurt my people, then she’s going to see just how fucking crazy I can be. Consider me a selfless person because right now, I’m sharing the spotlight and allowing this bitch the chance to shine.
She makes her way toward me, and the determination in her eyes tells me that this is it. She won’t miss her next swing. She’s going to make it count, for herself, for Harding, and for her bullshit plan that died and crumbled the second I discovered who she was.
She wants to send me right to the deepest pits of hell to burn and rot with the likes of those I've sent before me. But I won’t allow it to happen, not yet. I’ve been building a list of enemies and one by one, I’ve been crossing them off my list and proving to the bastards around me that I’m not someone they want to fuck with, and soon enough, Paris Moustaff is going to learn that lesson the hard way.
Paris takes another step just as a low, ferocious growl comes from the doorway. “Get the fuck away from her.” While the tone is filled with rage, guilt, and a definite lethality, it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.
Paris whips around to find Grayson looming toward her and the fury in his eyes even has my bones shaking with fear, though something isn’t right. With each step he takes, he wobbles. His feet don’t want to move and when they do, they don’t take him in a straight line—he zig zags.
But his eyes … fuck.
Paris instantly inches back, her wide gaze locked on Grayson’s. But as she backs up, she puts herself closer to me, which only serves to piss Grayson off more. Though right now, the way his eyes are glazed over and the way he trips over his own damn feet, I’d prefer her closer to me with that knife. If he gets hurt trying to save me ...
He stumbles and catches himself against the dresser that Paris had only just stepped away from, and the fear that rattles me is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I’m not going to lie, when it was just me and her, I was scared, but now that Grayson’s involved in this vulnerable state—I’m terrified.
“GRAYSON,” I call, realizing that he’s either severely concussed or fighting the effects of some hard drugs and in desperate need of motivation to keep himself going, to keep fighting the effects of whatever the hell she did to him.
His eyes flick to mine and the second they move off course, he tumbles again, having to catch himself against the bed.
Paris keeps backing up, but she adjusts the knife in her hand. “You can’t save her,” she spits, making Grayson’s eyes fly back to hers as she raises her chin,