The Last Cut (Remake) /under construction//

Chapter 20

"You need to leave, like now," and before Cassie can respond, Alex fingers are gripping at her wrist, forcing her deeper into the woods, and away from the funeral. She fights against him, digging the heels of her feet deeper into the ground as he practically drags her away. 

"Let me go!" she screams, and his hands fly instantly to her mouth to muffle out her yells of protest.

"Do you want to die Cassie? Do you want to fucking die, huh? Is that it? Because if you go out there, James is going to kill you and," he takes in a shaky breath, and looks away as tears blur his vision, "And I wouldn't know how it felt...the dream. How it felt to be that happy. Please. Please, leave Cassie."

"I can't just leave them, Alex! Those are Linda's family, her friends, and you want me to just....just let them get hurt because of me?"

"Don't you get it? This exactly what he wants! If you leave now, he'll never let you come back!" He couldn't believe how utterly stupid Cassie was being. She didn't expect to just walk up into the funeral home, set the people free and then just stroll out of the there unharmed right?

"You don't get a say in what I do, Alex. You're not my boyfriend." 

Alex goes silent, not being able to hold back against the hurt expression that takes over his features. His hand's slip from her wrist, his head bowing down in complete sadness as this uneasy feeling gnaws at his stomach. Right. Not her boyfriend. Not her boyfriend when she just kissed you five minutes ago. Not her boyfriend when you told her about your dream...told her you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her. Not her boyfriend when you told her you loved her.

When you would risk your life for her.

"Right. I'm not," he whispers softly, brown eyes staring at the ground. 

She swallows, and steps forward, "Alex-"

"Go. Just...just go."

She hesitantly backs away, and doesn't look back. 

 *

Alex swung his leg out lightly, and kicked the small rock softly to the other side. He didn't mind walking home. It gave him time to think about other things other than Cassie. He was tired of playing her stupid game of (i like you, no i don't.) It was tiring and somewhere deep inside him, he began to grow a weak hatred for her. 

Suddenly, a hand was on his mouth, and a hot breath was fanning  against his neck. His screams, muffled by the cloth he began to breath harshly into were unheard by the neighbors near by and unseen by the cars that usually pass by during this time of day. He fought. He fought as hard as he could, his arms, and legs flaring out, trying to reach for something. Anything.

The strange men behind him slammed him into the ground, nearly knocking him out cold. He wished. He wished so bad that he was unconscious. He wished so bad to not feel the physical pain the men were inflicting on him.

The one with the most facial hair, and mouth smelling of bourbon stretched his arm back, and landed the first punch to his throat, knocking the air completely out of him. The others laughed and lifted up their legs, planting them hard on his stomach. He cried out and curled into a ball, eyes squeezed shut, and whispered, "...Cassie."

The hairy man laughed, and spoke, his strong Russian accent sticking out clearly, "The little boy is crying out for his mommy," and swung his arm out back again, his fist landing harshly against Alex's lip, and splitting it open.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   " Dzheyms skazal, chto my dolzhen ubit' yego."