Chapter 15 What Have I Done
Dylan agreed and started directing them to follow.
Grace pulled Maddox's shirt, "Are you crazy?" She whispered, "These guys obviously want to hurt me, why are you giving them a chance?"
Maddox did not look at the men. His eyes stayed on her face. Calmly.
"Just trust me," he said.
He took her hand, firm enough that she could not pull away. His grip grounded her even as panic crawled up her spine.
Grace shook her head, silently protesting, but he squeezed her hand once. A promise.
The group arrived at a more secluded place, Grace recognized it as the back gardens, the ones the students or anyone never used anymore, she found it hard to swallow as the air felt thicker here.
The first punch came fast.
Maddox shifted aside at the last second. The fist cut through empty air. He drove his elbow into one of Dylan's friends' ribs and heard the breath leave him in a sharp gasp and he dropped.
Another rushed him from the side. Maddox ducked, grabbed the attacker's wrist, twisted just enough, and slammed his shoulder into the man's chest. He went down hard.
The third hesitated. Maddox closed the distance before fear could turn into sense. One clean punch. The man crumpled.
"What the fuck! What the fuck?!" Dylan was screaming. "This wasn't the plan man," he yelled at his friend.
Grace stood frozen, heart pounding, watching it all happen too fast to process. Maddox moved like someone who had done this before. Not wild, not reckless but very controlled.
One of the men groaned and tried to rise. Maddox turned toward him, he hadn't even broken a sweat. He bent slightly, reaching down to make sure the man stayed down.
That was when it happened, he heard her before he felt it.
Her scream and a sharp sound.
He froze.
Grace was screaming more loudly.
The blade slid out from his back, slick and red, gleaming under the rays of the sun. Blood spread fast across his shirt, dark and soaking.
What was that horrible, gut-wrenching noise? Oh, it was the screams coming from Grace's throat.
Maddox had been stabbed, he had been stabbed trying to protect her. She could see his shirt rapidly soaking with blood and the person who was crazed enough to stab him, she didn't recognize him, he didn't go to this school.
Grace could already feel herself walking or rather running towards them when a glare from Maddox stopped her short.
"Mad..." tears had sprang to her eyes because even after being stabbed he still didn't want her getting involved, he was still trying to protect her.
She watched him turn fully to face the attacker and without warning had grabbed his neck, Grace heard an unnatural crack come from him and watched as Maddox tossed him to the side, the man's head now bent at a terrible angle.
He was dead.
Grace had let go of the huge stone she didn't know she was holding, frozen, and staring at the dead body lying in front of Maddox's feet.
She watched as the other guys rushed at Maddox and saw him fighting each of them off. The back and side of his shirt were completely stained with his own blood. Judging from the sight of the blood loss it meant the stab wound was deep.
Without thinking, Grace rushed into the fray to help him out and was backhanded without a second thought. She felt her ears ring as she blinked, trying to gather her bearings.
"Don't come any closer, Grace, it'll be fine, I promise! Just stay where you are!"
Like hell she would, she didn't listen to anything Maddox said and looked around her, that asshole Dylan was running away with his friend.
Grace spied the blade used by the dead attacker and quickly got up again, grabbing the knife from beside his fallen body and making a beeline for the one who had hit her, she quickly lodged the blade into his side. He stopped attacking and slowly turned to her causing her to push the blade deeper, adrenaline coursing through her like electricity.
She didn't recognize him, he also didn't go to this school, he coughed up blood and a few spittle droplets landed on her face. In retaliation she spat blood back at him, it was blood from when he had backhanded her and split her lips earlier.
The man dropped to the ground along with the knife lodged deep in him, his eyes rolled up to the back of his head.
Grace stood there, chest heaving, fingers locked tight around nothing. The knife was no longer in her hand. It was buried inside the man on the ground. He was not moving.
Not breathing.
Her stomach dropped in panic.
"I… what have I done…" she whispered.