Johnny & I : The Island by Daria Paus (best novels to read txt) 📗

crack, and the knife hit the floor seconds before his body did.

Before I had time to check on Johnny, Sean closed in on me, his bleeding hand in a tight grip, and his face a mask of anger.

I tightened the hold of the iron, using it as a sword to shield myself.

"Don't come any closer," I warned. "Stay where you are!" My voice was on the verge of breaking, but I didn't care.

“Fucking bitch." He reached out a bloodied hand to snatch the iron from my grip. I was faster, and as his arm came toward me, I slammed the iron down on it. I’d hoped to break the damn thing, but judging from his growls, I hadn't succeeded. All I’d done was make him angrier.

He charged toward me, and I swung the iron in blind panic. He grabbed it and threw it aside. His body crashed into mine and I fell backward from the impact. He took the opportunity to get down on top of me, pressing me to the floor, and I knew I wasn’t going to get away.

"Now you're gonna do as I tell you, girl."

My whole body ached as I tried in vain to suck in a few deep breaths. He pressed those disgustingly rough lips against mine again and I wanted to scream. One hand slid up my thigh and nausea rose in my throat.

Then the body on top of me went limp, crushing me with its massive weight. I didn't understand what had happened until the dead weight rolled off of me and I saw Johnny's bruised face looking down at me. I stared at him for a long time before finally regaining the ability to move. I threw myself into Johnny's arms, but pulled away just as fast.

"Are you ok?" I didn't wait for the reply and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. My fingers trembled so bad I couldn't open them and in frustration, I tore it open instead.

My hand brushed the blood away and he winced. The wound filled up again. I repeated the movement, but the outcome was the same. It didn't stop.

"This isn’t good.”

“It’s fine.”

"Give me your shirt," I said. His eyes widened in surprise but did as he was told. I snatched the thing from his hand, rolling it up, then pressed the once white fabric to the wound and he flinched.

"Don't," I snapped. "Be still." I pressed harder and he let out a sharp hiss, followed by a string of curses.

“Sorry."

His voice trembled as he whispered, “Just do it."

“Hold it,” I ordered, and he obeyed. “Harder, you have to stop the bleedin’.”

I let my eyes travel over the rest of him, cringing at the sight of the bruises on both face and belly. "Shit," I whispered, reaching out to wipe the trail of blood from a split lip. "How are you doin'?"

“Never been better.”

I was about to speak when he gestured with a hand, and my eyes followed.

Shit. The creeps were still lying there, and they could wake up any second.

“What do we do?”

“Uh . . .” He seemed so confused, I regretted asking, but I knew we had to do something fast. If they woke up, our chances of getting out of this house alive were slim.

“Johnny?” I took his hand, squeezing it. “Tell me what to do.”

He stared at me for what felt like an eternity, and the fear bubbled up inside of me stronger again.

“We could tie them up and lock them into the basement, I guess." The suggestion would’ve been funny if the situation hadn't been so crazy, so the amusement that flashed across my lips never got a chance to manifest. I nodded, not even considering any other option.

"Let's do it." I got to my feet, holding out a hand for Johnny, who took it and managed to get up on his feet as well.

For a moment I stood there, studying him as he stared down at the men at our feet. His hand holding the rolled up shirt in place trembled slightly and his face was paler than ever. Little drops of sweat had already begun to form on his forehead.

I grabbed his arms. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“No.”

“But—”

“No,” he repeated. “I’ll be fine, it only hurts when I move.”

Not seeing the logic in that, I replied, “That’s why you should sit . . . I can take care of them.” I could, couldn't I? How hard could it be? They needed to be tied up and dragged downstairs to the basement, wherever that was. My expression fell. Maybe it wouldn't be as easy as I’d hoped, but somehow it would be manageable. It had to be, I couldn't let Johnny hurt himself out of stubbornness. By the looks of him, I was afraid he was going to pass out any second. Despite his best efforts to look unaffected, it was clear he was struggling to even stay conscious.

I glanced down at the creeps. They were huge in comparison to my small form. I wouldn't even be able to move them, let alone drag them away to God knows where without waking them. I looked back up at Johnny and he must’ve seen the realization in my eyes.

He tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace of pain. “I can do it.”

I nodded, not at all liking what he was doing to himself, but knowing I needed his help, I didn’t protest.

18

Blood, sweat & bruises

I caught the rope he tossed my way and sprang into action.

When the creeps’ hands were tied, I breathed a sigh of relief. Even if they'd wake up, we'd have the advantage; but I dreaded hearing their voices again. Just looking at them was enough to make me want to vomit.

"Now what?" I asked.

"Let's get them the fuck out of here." Johnny’s voice was weak, and I tried to not think of it. He bent down to grab Garrett’s outstretched arms, and the stifled cry of pain made my