Wreak Havoc (Black Rose Kisses #3) - Eva Ashwood Page 0,2

deeper into the woods.

As we walk, I glance around, trying to memorize landmarks or something in case I’m able to fight my way free and have to run, but it’s just trees. Trees and more trees, all of them identical enough that I couldn’t tell them apart even if I was in my right mind. With where my head is at right now, I don’t stand a chance.

I lose sight of the car as we keep walking, finally coming to a little clearing that’s ringed by still more trees. The ground beneath my feet is spongy with moss and grass and leaves, and the earthy smell of it fills my nose.

My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. If I thought I was on edge before, it’s nothing compared to how I feel now, cold dread working its way down my spine. No matter how many times I think about it, it’s hard to wrap my mind around. I can’t believe this is really happening.

I’m about to die.

I can feel myself trembling a little bit, adrenaline and fear making an uncomfortable cocktail in my body. I feel hot and cold and then hot again all over, and I look at Sloan, even though I have no idea what I’m hoping to see.

He’s just as fucking impassive as ever, giving nothing away. He’s either cold-blooded as fuck, or a great actor, pretending this doesn’t matter to him at all.

I remember the worry and concern on Levi’s and Rory’s faces before they left Gavin’s office, and I remember the look the three of them shared. They trusted Sloan, and here he is about to kill me anyway.

“What are Rory and Levi going to say when they find out about this?” I demand, licking my lips. “That you dragged me out into the middle of the fucking woods and killed me?”

Even saying it out loud makes my stomach swoop uncomfortably, and I swallow back the tide of sour bile again.

“They’ll understand,” Sloan says. “When they realize that you were just using them the whole time. You were fucking lying and manipulating them, making them fall for you with your flirting and teasing, just so you could sabotage them in the end.”

He spits it out like it’s supposed to be a condemnation, but there’s something like hurt in his voice. Like he’s talking about himself as much as the other two.

I want to argue that it wasn’t like that, that I wasn’t using them. But… wasn’t I? I wanted to get closer to them. I wanted them to trust me. I felt so justified in doing it then, taking an “any means necessary” approach to getting what I needed.

What I thought I needed.

Standing here with Sloan, looking my own death in the face, it seems like a long time ago when I last flirted with any of them. I wish I could take it all back. I wish I had asked Levi or Rory for help. I wish I had confronted Sloan earlier about what I saw. Anything to not be standing here in front of him, miles and miles away from anyone who can help me, about to die.

I’m about to die.

That thought crystalizes in my head like a shard of glass, and a fresh surge of adrenaline washes away some of my paralyzing fear. My survival instincts flare—the primal, basic urge to live rushing through me and making my veins buzz.

I feel awful about what I did and the fallout from it, but I don’t want to die. My death won’t fix anything, and I can’t believe Sloan is really about to kill me, as calm as anything.

I won’t let him.

Moving suddenly, I duck to one side and then whirl around, trying to take a jab at Sloan with my bound wrists. It’s awkward with them tied together, and I can’t land a solid punch, but I do swipe at his face and hear him grunt in pain. That’s something.

He grabs for me, and I dart away, turning to try to knee him in the balls. If I can get him down, that will buy me some time to run. Maybe I can make it back to the car before he does. That’s the extent of my plan, but it’s better than nothing.

Sloan blocks my knee with the hand not holding a gun, and he pushes me back, grabbing for me again. This time I’m not fast enough, and he grabs my shirt, hauling me closer. I shift