pressed hard against her neck and jaw, twisting her chin; one forearm dug painfully under her rib cage. Harper tried to twist and escape his grip, but she was like an animal caught in a steel trap. He pushed harder on her jaw. He looked down at her dispassionately.
“It looks like my stupid nephew didn’t get the goods damaged too much.” His deep, guttural voice barely penetrated the panicked state in which she swam. But then Emmitt twisted her chin roughly in the other direction, and her gaze flew across a pile of something on the ground. She recognized Jake’s dark green T-shirt, her heart lurching.
“Jake,
Jake
,” she screamed, but his slight form remained unmoving on the ground.
Oh my God, Emmitt’s killed him!
“You son of—”
“Shut up, or I’m going to cut you.”
Her eyes sprang wide at the feeling of cold, sharp steel pressing against her throat.
“Do you have any idea how much trouble you caused me, you little bitch? My buyer gave up and went home two days ago. I’ve been to Poplar Gorge and back twice now and then thought: Why not try Barterton? Jake’s stupid enough to take her there. And looky here. I was right,” he breathed, pressing the edge of the knife into Harper’s skin. Pain pierced her, swelling her terror. He’d cut her throat. She was going to die—
“Let her go, Emmitt.”
Her clamped eyelids sprang open. Jake stood just eight or nine feet in front of them, his face chalky beneath his tan, his hands bunched in fists at his sides. Harper thought she saw a rising bruise on his forehead. Did he look a little woozy, as if he was struggling to stand? She felt Emmitt jerk slightly in surprise behind her, but then he noticeably relaxed. His laugh chilled her.
“You gonna take me, stupid? You think you can kick my ass, you worthless little piece of shit? Gonna show off for your little girlfriend here?” He laughed even harder, like he’d just been told a hilarious joke. Jake stepped closer, his face like a mask, his eyes glassy, his stare glued to the man who held her. Emmitt abruptly stopped laughing. Harper made a choked sound of pure terror when he pressed the knife tighter to her neck and she felt the bite of the blade. Jake came to a halt.
“What’s a matter, Jake? Worried about Little Red here? Didn’t you tell her you like boys?”
“Shut up, Emmitt.”
Harper blinked, shock making her rise slightly above her terror for a moment. Jake sounded scared, but also cold.
And hard.
She realized something else. Suddenly Jake was staring at her, not at Emmitt. It was just for a split second, but his eyes compelled her.
“I’m going to cut her right in front of you if you take another step, then I’ll make her watch while I gut and skin you.
Get back
,
you fucking runt.”
Jake held his ground, though. The sharp knife shifted to Harper’s cheek. “How would you like a scar on your little girlfriend here?” Emmitt taunted. “Think she’d be so pretty then?”
“Let her
go
.”
Emmitt tensed, pressing harder with the knife. Harper clamped her eyelids shut, tears leaking from beneath her eyelids. She was suffocating. She couldn’t breathe. Everything went into brutal slow motion.
Something pelted her face—hundreds of little missiles—and time suddenly leapt forward. She felt a sharp stinging sensation at the corner of her mouth, and then her lungs hitched, and she was breathing in dirt. Emmitt’s tight hold on her relented. She lunged forward, tripping. Someone caught her—Jake. He righted her forcefully before his hold was gone. She realized she wasn’t the only one coughing. Emmitt was, too . . . with hoarse, violent choking sounds.
She spun around, her coughing fit freezing for a moment at the vision of Jake standing next to his uncle. He gripped Emmitt’s large knife in his hand. Emmitt was bent at the waist, coughing violently and digging at his eyes with his fists, trying to clear his vision from the dirt and small stones Jake had thrown into
“It looks like my stupid nephew didn’t get the goods damaged too much.” His deep, guttural voice barely penetrated the panicked state in which she swam. But then Emmitt twisted her chin roughly in the other direction, and her gaze flew across a pile of something on the ground. She recognized Jake’s dark green T-shirt, her heart lurching.
“Jake,
Jake
,” she screamed, but his slight form remained unmoving on the ground.
Oh my God, Emmitt’s killed him!
“You son of—”
“Shut up, or I’m going to cut you.”
Her eyes sprang wide at the feeling of cold, sharp steel pressing against her throat.
“Do you have any idea how much trouble you caused me, you little bitch? My buyer gave up and went home two days ago. I’ve been to Poplar Gorge and back twice now and then thought: Why not try Barterton? Jake’s stupid enough to take her there. And looky here. I was right,” he breathed, pressing the edge of the knife into Harper’s skin. Pain pierced her, swelling her terror. He’d cut her throat. She was going to die—
“Let her go, Emmitt.”
Her clamped eyelids sprang open. Jake stood just eight or nine feet in front of them, his face chalky beneath his tan, his hands bunched in fists at his sides. Harper thought she saw a rising bruise on his forehead. Did he look a little woozy, as if he was struggling to stand? She felt Emmitt jerk slightly in surprise behind her, but then he noticeably relaxed. His laugh chilled her.
“You gonna take me, stupid? You think you can kick my ass, you worthless little piece of shit? Gonna show off for your little girlfriend here?” He laughed even harder, like he’d just been told a hilarious joke. Jake stepped closer, his face like a mask, his eyes glassy, his stare glued to the man who held her. Emmitt abruptly stopped laughing. Harper made a choked sound of pure terror when he pressed the knife tighter to her neck and she felt the bite of the blade. Jake came to a halt.
“What’s a matter, Jake? Worried about Little Red here? Didn’t you tell her you like boys?”
“Shut up, Emmitt.”
Harper blinked, shock making her rise slightly above her terror for a moment. Jake sounded scared, but also cold.
And hard.
She realized something else. Suddenly Jake was staring at her, not at Emmitt. It was just for a split second, but his eyes compelled her.
“I’m going to cut her right in front of you if you take another step, then I’ll make her watch while I gut and skin you.
Get back
,
you fucking runt.”
Jake held his ground, though. The sharp knife shifted to Harper’s cheek. “How would you like a scar on your little girlfriend here?” Emmitt taunted. “Think she’d be so pretty then?”
“Let her
go
.”
Emmitt tensed, pressing harder with the knife. Harper clamped her eyelids shut, tears leaking from beneath her eyelids. She was suffocating. She couldn’t breathe. Everything went into brutal slow motion.
Something pelted her face—hundreds of little missiles—and time suddenly leapt forward. She felt a sharp stinging sensation at the corner of her mouth, and then her lungs hitched, and she was breathing in dirt. Emmitt’s tight hold on her relented. She lunged forward, tripping. Someone caught her—Jake. He righted her forcefully before his hold was gone. She realized she wasn’t the only one coughing. Emmitt was, too . . . with hoarse, violent choking sounds.
She spun around, her coughing fit freezing for a moment at the vision of Jake standing next to his uncle. He gripped Emmitt’s large knife in his hand. Emmitt was bent at the waist, coughing violently and digging at his eyes with his fists, trying to clear his vision from the dirt and small stones Jake had thrown into
Similar Books
