Chapter 123 Bellamy
DAMIEN
I carried her out, step by step. Closer to freedom, closer to salvation.
Until— “Go back inside, Cass.”
The moment Bellamy appeared, the air shifted.
It wasn’t just tension, it was control, sinister. He carried violence around him like a second skin, something practiced, something deeply ingrained. His presence alone made the hairs at the back of my neck stand on edge.
Jasmine’s body went rigid in my arms.
“P-please…” she whimpered, her fingers clutching onto me with what little strength she had. “Don’t let him take me…”
A dangerous calm settled over me.
“I won’t,” I murmured against her hair, my grip tightening protectively around her frail frame. “Not now. Not ever.”
My gaze lifted, locking onto Bellamy.
He stood a few feet away, broad shoulders relaxed, but his eyes—his eyes were calculating. Cold. Like he already knew how this would end.
“Go back inside, Cass.”
The command was sharp. Jasmine flinched violently. Something in me snapped. “She goes nowhere,” I said, my voice low, lethal. Each word deliberate. “You don’t get to touch her again.”
Bellamy tilted his head slightly, almost amused.
“Still barking,” he muttered. “Even now.”
I took a step forward, shifting Jasmine carefully in my arms. “Do you feel strong?” I taunted, my lips curling into something dark. “Hurting someone weaker than you? That what makes you a man?”
His eye twitched, there it was. “Pathetic,” I spat. “You’re nothing but a coward hiding behind fear.”
That was all it took.
He moved.
Fast.
Faster than I expected. One second he was standing still—the next, a force slammed into me like a truck. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs as my back collided with the wall with a sickening crack. Pain exploded through my spine, white-hot and blinding.
Jasmine slipped from my arms.
“No—!” She hit the ground hard, her body crumpling in a fragile heap. My vision went red.
Bellamy didn’t give me time to recover. His fist came down toward my face, but I twisted just in time, the blow grazing my cheek instead of shattering my jaw.
I retaliated instantly. My fist drove upward into his ribs, hard enough to make him grunt—but he barely staggered. What the hell. He was solid. Too solid. He grabbed my collar, slamming me back into the wall again, harder this time. My ribs screamed in protest, something cracking under the pressure.
I twisted out of his grip and swung—my fist connecting with his jaw. The impact echoed, but instead of dropping, he smiled. Actually smiled.
Blood trickled from his lip as he rolled his neck.
“Good,” he muttered. “I was hoping you’d fight back.”
Psychopath. He lunged again. This time, I was ready. I ducked under his swing, driving my elbow into his side before grabbing his wrist and twisting it sharply. The dagger slipped from his hand, clattering against the ground.
I kicked it away.
“No weapons?” I taunted, breathing hard. “Let’s see what you’ve got now.”
His response was immediate. A brutal punch to my ribs. Pain exploded through me, forcing a groan from my throat as I staggered back. My already damaged ribs screamed, each breath becoming harder to draw.
He didn’t stop. Another blow, and another. Each one meant to break not just injure. I raised my arms, blocking what I could, but he was relentless.
So I adapted, I stepped into his space. Letting him think I was off balance, then I struck.
A sharp jab to his throat.
His breath hitched. That was my opening. I drove my fist into his face—once, twice, three times—each hit snapping his head back. Blood sprayed, his nose clearly broken now.
But he still didn’t fall. Instead, he grabbed me and slammed his forehead into mine. Stars exploded in my vision. “Fuck—!”
My balance faltered and he took advantage. His leg drove into my side, right where my ribs were already fractured. A broken sound tore from my throat as I dropped to one knee.
But I refused to stay down.
Not when she was right there, not when she needed me. I pushed up, ignoring the agony, and launched myself at him. We crashed to the ground, fists flying, bodies colliding in a violent tangle of limbs and fury.
I landed a hit to his jaw. He answered with one to my temple. He grabbed my throat, slamming me against the ground, his grip tightening.
My vision darkened. Air, i couldn’t—
No, not like this. Not now. I drove my elbow into his arm repeatedly until his grip loosened just enough for me to twist free. I rolled, grabbing one of my knives and driving it straight into his thigh.
He roared. Finally, pain. He felt it, but instead of backing off— he got angrier. His grip tightened around my neck again, lifting me partially off the ground despite the blade lodged in his leg.
Inhuman.
“You should’ve stayed away,” he growled.
I gritted my teeth, forcing out a smirk despite the lack of air.
“You should’ve stayed dead.”
I slammed my fist into his face again and again until his grip finally loosened.
I dropped, gasping for air, my lungs burning as I sucked in oxygen like a drowning man breaking the surface.
Then, movement.
Jasmine. She was trying to move, trying to crawl.
Toward me. My heart clenched. “Stay there!” I rasped.
But Bellamy saw her too and he moved.
No No no no. I lunged after him, but I was too slow. He grabbed the dagger, raised it.
Time slowed. "NO—!”
I pushed forward with everything I had—
But I didn’t make it. The blade came down.
A sickening, wet sound filled the air.
Silence followed.
Then— A whimper, not mine, not his.
Hers. My world shattered.
Time didn’t just slow, it stopped completely. A sickening, wet sound filled the air—thick, final, irreversible. And for a heartbeat… I didn’t understand. My body was still moving forward, my hand still outstretched, my mouth still forming a scream that hadn’t fully left my chest yet.
“NO—!” Then I saw it. Not Bellamy, not the dagger.
Her, Jasmine. She stood between us. No— Not stood. She was already collapsing. Her body had intercepted the blade meant for me.
Her small, fragile frame trembling as the force of the impact drove the dagger deep into her abdomen.