Underground Legends: The Hunt (BWWM)

Chapter 22 - Abella

Abella Sterling (Female P.O.V)

October 21, 2074

We were halfway through dinner when I excused myself to the bathroom. After quickly relieving myself, I was about to return to the dining room when the sudden need to check my phone arose.

Since Saint's departure, there had been no word from him. No calls, no text messages, no nothing. The old phrase no news is good news didn't apply here. Instead, it only made me worry more.

He had to have reached Quinton by now, right?

Before my brain could imagine worst-case scenarios, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand to check it. I started to pull up my recent calls but stopped as everything blurred and shifted out of place.

I closed my eyes and shook my head to clear it when a sudden wave of dizziness hit me and knocked me off balance. I quickly grasped the nightstand to keep from falling on my face before sitting on the bed.

What's wro...

My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts.

I barely glanced at the caller i.d before accepting it.

"Hello?"

A jumble of boisterous voices came through the line, but none of them answered me.

I pulled the phone away from my ear to see Saint's name on the screen. "Hello? Saint?" I tried again.

"Abella! The..."

My phone beeped. I lowered it from my ear to see it powering down. "Damn it!"

I grabbed my purse off the pillow and rummaged through it for my charger. My eyelids fluttered throughout the search, and only when my fingers skimmed the device did a burst of energy return. I pulled it out and plugged it in before leaving my phone charging on the nightstand.

Waiting for it to finish would take too long, so I went to rejoin the others to borrow one of theirs.

When I neared the dining room, my footsteps stopped cold in the doorway at the confusing and odd sight before me.

The bulk of the catered meal filling the long, solid wood table sat untouched underneath the crystal chandelier. While everyone lay slumped over the table, using their half-eaten food as a makeshift pillow for their heads.

My sluggish brain struggled to make sense of what I was seeing.

They couldn't be drunk. Everyone aside from three people had decided to refrain from drinking until after the game. So what the hell happened? And why wasn't I affected?

A chair scraping against the floor drew my attention to the far end of the table.

My eyes bulged at the man dressed entirely in black propping Veronica up in her chair. Before I could freak out, I realized he was one of the workers from the catering company.

But why wasn't he wearing his uniform? And why was he back so soon?

Weren't he and the other workers scheduled to clean up tomorrow?

I started to voice my questions aloud when he hefted Veronica's body over his shoulder with ease. Like she weighed nothing at all.

She made no move to resist him. She just hung there with her arms dangling.

I stepped backward, careful not to make any noise and reveal my presence. But his head suddenly turned in my direction, and his dark gaze pinned me to the spot.

My eyes darted to my brother before returning to the man. My heart and my head were at war. I didn't want to leave him, but my only chance of saving him, me, and everyone else was to run.

So I did.

I ran from the room as fast as my legs would allow. Not once did I look back to see if he followed me. But I didn't need to. The thud of a body hitting the floor, followed by heavy footfalls, alerted me he was in pursuit.

While rounding the staircase, a hefty weight piled upon my back, sending me crashing to the floor. A hiss escaped my lips at the immense pain spreading down my body. I contemplated giving in but quickly dismissed the idea. The lives on the other side of the wall depended on me.

"You won't get away from me that easily." His hot breath blew directly onto my ear with each word he spoke.

I wiggled in vain, desperately trying to get free, but his massive body kept me fully pinned.

He chuckled darkly. "Where ya tryna go? Huh?"

I fell still, giving up for now, and caught my breath.

Realizing his question will remain unanswered, he eased off me and rose to his feet.

"Get up!" He grasped my ponytail and snatched my head back.

I gritted my teeth, refusing to cry out in pain even though one strong tug felt like he would rip each strand from my scalp.

Ever so slowly, I pushed up on my hands and knees, gathering my strength. And just when he began to get frustrated with my pace, I kicked back hard.

The resulting pained-filled groan was sweet music to my ears. I scrambled to my feet, rushing to get away.

But that freedom was short-lived when he suddenly grabbed my ankle and yanked me back, knocking the wind from me for the second time today.

"Fucking bitch!" He growled, flipping me onto my back. His chest rapidly rose and fell as he pulled a gun from his waistband and aimed it at me. "If you try tha-"

A shark crack of lighting cut off his reply and rocked the house's foundation. The lights shut off, dousing us in utter darkness.

I took advantage of the situation and blindly searched for anything to help me. My fingers skimmed a cold ceramic surface before fully clutching it in my grip. I hurled the vase in the man's direction, praying it would smack him in the face.

But it didn't.

It collided with his right arm sending the gun flying to the floor. Both of us rushed in the direction of its landing clatter.

And by some stroke of luck, I reached it first.

My already wide gaze seemed to grow even more in shock when my clammy hands wrapped around the gun. A tremble passed through me when I pointed it straight at his chest.

I took a deep breath and another while he licked his thin chapped lips and stepped back once. Not out of fear but to fully take me in.

The corner of his lips curled upward as he drew a knife from the sheath attached to his waist. He advanced on me, drawing closer and closer with the sharp blade raised. Each step twisted my stomach into knots.

I flicked off the safety hoping the resounding click would deter his movements, but it didn't. If anything, it amplified his speed.

Please. Stop. I pleaded with my eyes, but he didn't. Not seeing any other way, I squeezed the trigger.

His body jolted as the bullet pierced through his chest. The light in his eyes dimmed as he crumpled to the floor.

Slowly the realization of what I did sinks in as that unmistakable dark crimson pool formed around his body.

I killed someone.

I just killed someone.

Bile tickled at the back of my throat, but I managed to keep it down.

He wasn't an innocent man but a murderer. And he wouldn't hesitate to kill me if given the opportunity.

Shakily, I swiped my arm across my sweaty face and slid backward, pressing against the nearest wall.

My grip tightened around the gun, waiting for him to spring back to life like in horror films. Or worse for a partner to miraculously appear.

Seconds passed, and neither happened.

The adrenaline quickly wore off, and exhaustion crept in. My head fell to my chest, and my eyelids drifted shut as darkness slowly took over.