Chapter 3

I froze, panic setting in as my heart raced. Fear flooded my body, and my legs felt like jelly. When I tried to run, I stumbled and fell hard on the pavement.

The two men closed in, the stench of sweat and booze clinging to them.

"All my money's in my bag," I blurted out, panic making me rush the words. "There's about two thousand in cash, and a few grand on my cards. Just take it and go."

Their eyes lit up as they rifled through my bag, confirming my words with eager grins.

"Please… I won't tell anyone. I didn't see anything. I'll leave right now, I swear," I begged, my voice shaky, fear coating every word. "Just let me go…"

My legs were shaking, barely holding me up. Sweat was trickling down my spine as I silently pleaded, hoping they wouldn't hurt me. I couldn't think straight, just wanted to survive, to get away.

But they stepped in front of me, blocking any chance of escape.

"What's the rush?" one of them sneered, his grin cruel. "Stay with us tonight, and you can leave tomorrow."

I felt my blood run cold as I instinctively stepped back.

The man lunged at me, and I acted on pure instinct. With every bit of strength I had, I kicked him as hard as I could. He crumpled to the ground, gasping for air.

But the other man wasn't having it. He slapped me hard across the face, his rage palpable. "You think you're tough?"

He pulled out a small knife, and the gleam of it sent a chill down my spine. "One wrong move, and I'll ruin that pretty face of yours."

I barely registered the threat. I lashed out again, aiming for his groin. He buckled, gasping, but in his fury, he drove the knife into my abdomen.

The pain was unbearable. The world blurred as blood poured from the wound, and I gasped for air, struggling to stay conscious.

The two men finally seemed to realize what they'd done. They scrambled, panic taking over, and fled the scene.

With trembling hands, I grabbed my phone and dialed 911, but I knew it would take forever for help to reach me in this remote spot.

Desperate, I called Carter—again and again—but each time, he hung up. Finally, his voice crackled through, impatience cutting through his words. "Brielle's having a serious allergic reaction! Can you stop being so dramatic?"

I could barely get the words out. "Help… me… I'm bleeding…"

"Skylar Quinn!" His voice was sharp, tinged with frustration. "Why do you always pull stunts like this when I'm with Brielle? It's always something—illnesses, problems… Don't you ever get tired of these games? Because I'm sick of them!"

"Brielle's really sick today! Can you show some empathy for once?" he snapped.

I could barely breathe, every word feeling like it was tearing through me. But he was indifferent.

"Cut it out, Skylar! Even if you die tonight, I'm not leaving Brielle to come see you."

And then, as if I didn't matter at all, he hung up. His tone cold, final, and cruel.

I lay there on the ground, helpless, overcome with despair. My body was shutting down, and the pain seemed to be swallowing me whole. The darkness started to pull me under.

Just before everything went black, I saw a figure hovering above me...