His Trouble Maker

Chapter 129

Chapter 129

JESSICA

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| can’t keep track of what's real. | don’t remember moving. My chest is tight, breath sharp, rain drilling down my

back like it’s trying to get under the skin.

Theo. Did. It.

| don’t believe him. Except | do. Except | always knew. Except something inwent quiet the second the words

left Riot’s mouth.

Now I'm trying to count my breath but it’s off. | keep hitting the snumber twice. | keep skipping three and

five. The cold’s finally sinking in-deep, sharp, mean—and I try to pull my arm back but his grip doesn’t slip. | dig

my heel in. | stumble. | twist. His fingers just dig harder.

| blink and everything's too sharp. Leaves dripping black. Sky cracked open with veins of light. The wind keeps

changing direction. Like it's trying to find me. Like it's smelling for something already dying.

It’s not rain. It’s not cold. It’s something worse. It’s the feeling right before something sinks its teeth into the

back of your neck.

Am | fucking guilty? Absolutely. It’s a trial | chose, thinking | could change the course of our lives. I just...didn’t

expect it would turn

out like this one.

He said Theo ate the whole village.

No. No. Fuck that. Fuck that-

1 jerk against the rope again. My wrists scream. Good. | yank until it feels like something's tearing under the

skin. | need this part to hurt. | need to know where my body ends. | need to hold on to something that doesn’t

shift and rot and grin with meat in its teeth.

He ate them. He turned the pack into red streaks and fucking confetti.

| curl forward, forehead to my knees. Sweat and dirt sting where the bark’s bitten me.

Grayson.

Oh fuck.

Grayson’s going to walk into that. His pack. His home. Bits of it in Theo’s mouth. Bones scattered.

He’s going to look at the worst thing I've ever done and know—she did this.

Not Theo. Not Riot. Me.

| breathe hard, Fists shaking. | count it. One breath. Two, Three. Try to fold it into order. Try to wrap the panic in

numbers like I can control it.

Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt

Four. Five. Six. Stop shaking. STOP.

But it won't. My whole body’s gone to war with itself. I'm hot and cold and bile and rage. My wrists are raw. My

eyes won't close without flashing red.

“Walk faster, Jessica!”

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| flinch. My knee buckles and | swallow it before he hears. He's not looking anyway-he’s already yanking the

chain again like I'm something to haul, not someone. My feet slip on the slope. Leaves slick under my boots. Cold

needles stab through the gaps in my clothes. Rain like knives now, straight into the back of my neck.

“What's the matter with you?”

| snap.

| don’t mean to. My body does it without asking.

twist, spit, throw my elbow into his ribs. Not enough to hurt him. But enough to say fuck you.

He grabsbefore | can breathe and slamsinto a tree. Bark cracks. My shoulder burns. Rain hits my back

like whips now. My nose smashes against the trunk. | feel wetness that might be blood. Might be water. Might be

both.

“Really?” Riot barks, laughing at me. “I've trained you, Jessica. And now you're trying to bite me?”

“I should've bit you harder,” | hissed. Voice half-gone. Tongue thick. “I should've fucking ripped your throat out.”

“I'm not going to hurt you,” Riot mutters finally. “If | wanted to, | would've.”

Then quieter. “I'm getting you out of here.”

“Why?” | snap. My voice is rough, cracked. “Why should | believe you...after everything you've done!?”

The woods creak. Water drips through branches like bones popping in the dark. My hands are shaking again and

Riot keeps looking behind us like someone-no, something-is going to chase us.

“Shit,” he mutters.

His voice has changed and I'll be damned if I'm hearing fear in it. Riot’s not looking at me.

He's looking through the trees.

“What is it?” | ask.

“Run.”

He jerks the chain, hard. My whole body lurches forward. Mud, bark, undergrowth-everything slick, everything

biting back. I don’t move fast enough. His hand yanks again. The collar cuts into my neck. My boots catch. |

stumble hard. My teeth slam together. My wrists snap tight behind me.

“RIOT-"

No answer. Just the pull of the leash. Just the sound of him crashing through the woods like nothing's sacred

anymore. Not the rain, not the trees, not the skin I'm inside. He's moving too fast, too hard. I'm dragged, half-

walking, half-dying.

Rain’s coming down in stabs now, straight, knives on my scalp. Cold and sharp and full of pressure. It's not

water. It’s punishment.

“What the fuck is it?” | shout, spitting mud, leaves, blood.

He doesn’t answer.

He just looks back-and | see it.

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One breath, no more. Between the trees. It moves so fast | can’t make what is it but it's so fucking huge and it’s

making the ground

shakes.

The forest tilts. The roots rise. I'm going to fall.

“MOVE!” Riot barks.

I don’t.

“l-can’t-“l choke on spit and fear. My mouth tastes like iron. “Riot-"

He grabs me. By the collar. Fist knotted in it like he’s done this before, like this isn’t the first girl he’s had to drag

out of hell. He haulsup and throwsforward. My knees hit the dirt so hard | see stars.

“Don’t stop,” he grits. “It doesn’t like when they stop moving.”

They. Not it. Plural. Pack. Fuck-how many are there? What if it’s already behind me? What if one of them is

wearing Theo's face?

The word breaks something in me.

| claw at the ground. Leaves and thorns and glass-cold mud under my nails. | try to crawl but nothing's working. |

can’t feel my fucking knees. Everything's water and nerves and fire now. The trees look wrong. Closer. Their

shadows stretch too far. The bark’s peeling like flesh. They're watching.

Something breathes behind us.

Slow. Deep. Wet.

My body goes stiff.

“What the fuck is that?” | scream.

Riot doesn’t answer.

He just keeps running. Grabs the chain and pulls again. My shoulder jerks. My vision blurs. I'm gagging on the

collar, choking on my own panic. | fall, | get up, | fall again. He doesn’t slow down. He doesn’t look back. Just

dragslike I'm already half-dead.

And | realize he’s afraid, Riot is afraid. And that’s when | know. We're going to die out here and even in death, I'm

here worrying for Grayson. It hurtsknowing the last twe’ve seen each other is us, trying to kill each

other.

Fuck it, baby.

| wanted more time. | wanted one more fucking minute with him. One second to look him in the eyes and say it.

All of it. Every inch of it. The way I'd rip my own fucking heart out if he asked. The way it's always been him,

even when | hated him. Even when | wanted to put a krafe through his ribs and walk away.

Especially then.

| would've told him everything

That | lied. That | broke every rule | made for myself. That | still dreamy about the sound he makes when he’s

half-asleep and angry and safe. That he ruinedfor anything soft, and | never want to be soft again

I would've told him I love him. That even here—chained, hunted, fucking dying I'd still scream his nif | had

the breath.

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| didn’t know I'd end up face-first in the dirt, rain drowning me, ribs cracked, and the only nin my head is

his.

Grayson.

I'm so fucking sorry.

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My fingers slip in the mud. My legs won't move anymore. | try to crawl. | try to scream. | try to fight. But

everything's going quiet and | think this is how I'm going to die.

“I'm sorry, baby,” | said with my last breath before | felt claws tearing my skin.

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