Chapter XIV

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Checkmate
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He kicked me once.

"You don't get it, do ya?"

He kicked me twice. I winced in pain.

"How many times do I hafta tell ya?!"

He kicked me thrice and I curled myself into the fetal position on the cold floor beneath me, my eyes watering, my body aching, pain coiling onto my skin like a vile monster relishing the way my heart beated so fastly.

"D-do we harm him, or what?" another deep yet uncertain voice whispered to the first one. I couldn't put a finger on who they were. In such pain, I could barely think straight.

The first guy barked out a malicious laugh as he pulled something out of his jacket's inner pocket.

And when it glinted under the fading moonlight, only then did I realise that it was the same knife someone had used on me in that abandoned classroom two months ago.

"Zane?" I hoarsely whispered from the cold floor, my back now resting against a coarse brick wall as their figures towered over me.

The only response I got from him was a sinister chuckle, and he crouched down to my level, my breath hitching up my throat.

I tried not to say much, mainly because if you ever provoked an armed maniac, things usually never ended well.

He harshly grasped the hem of my hoodie, hauling me upwards, towards himself.

Dumb move, on his part. He could've smashed my head against the wall, easily deeming me unconscious.

I caught his grey, merciless eyes gleam under the silvery moonlight, the subtle gesture only making them seem even more ruthless than ever and adding no warmth whatsoever to them.

"I told you, didn't I?" he growled through his teeth. I sucked in a ragged breath as he delicately placed the knife against my neck, though his intent was not delicate at all. The breath in my throat froze.

If I would even let out a shaly breath, the knife would penetrate through my skin, and I really didn't want that to happen. Hence, I remained as stiff as a poker under the gazes of the two – well, only one of them was a confirmed maniac – dangerous men.

"T-told me what?" I chanced to ask him.

"How m'ny times do I gotta say this?! You never list'n to me, when I always tell ya that she's mine! Anyone would die for that body of hers," he spat, smirking predatorily. A nerve throbbed in my temple, threating to burst and shower blood all over him.

This man...

I wanted to make a move, or at least say something in return, to defend Kate and all the other girls he had harassed. But common sense won out. I didn't have a death wish. Not yet, at least.

"You deserve this as much as I deserve her," he maniacally whispered, digging the knife's blade deeper into my skin, the latter barely holding on at that point.

Just as the knife was about to glide against my throat, a loud whistle erupted from outside the abandoned alleyway. Had the guards finally intervened? Rather alarmed, Zane let go of me as I collapsed onto the hard floor, the action simultaneously releasing the pressure painfully building up on my neck.

I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding. Taking advantage of his inattention, I impatiently patted my palm against the rock-strewn floor, finding and grabbing an abandoned shard of glass from somewhere nearby. Scowling, I harshly stabbing it into his leg without any further hesitation.

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