Chapter Twenty-Seven
Words could not describe the anger bubbling behind Sam’s eyes. She’d only just closed them, having dropped onto her bed—her wonderfully soft, cozy bed—when something startled her awake. She was half-conscious when it happened and didn’t much care what it was. She knew only one thing: it was probably Joel’s fault.
It would be a shame to murder him after everything they’d been through, especially considering how they’d only just escaped death together. But she decided he must die.
“Joel!” Her recently stitched neck wound protested the force in her voice. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.”
The floor jerked upright, like someone had pulled the rug out from under her. She slammed onto her back, and everything went black.
When she
