BLOODlines

20: The Cycle Tightened

The ring of men closed tighter, their flashlights creating a cage of light around Frank and Cherish. The night air felt strangled, thick with danger. Every instinct in Cherish’s body screamed for her to run, but there was nowhere to go.

Frank stood tall in front of her, blood still dripping from the cut on his arm, his fists clenched though he had no weapon. The leader—broad-shouldered, knife glinting in his hand—smirked as though victory were already his.

“Step aside, boy,” he drawled, his voice low and mocking. “The girl isn’t yours to protect.”

“She’s mine to protect as long as I breathe,” Frank shot back, his voice sharp as steel.

A ripple of laughter spread through the group. Cherish felt her chest tighten. She pressed herself against Frank’s back, trembling, but his body was solid, unmoving—a shield against the storm.

The leader twirled the knife lazily between his fingers. “You think you can fight us all? You’re a fool. But I admire fools… they die bravely.”

Cherish clutched Frank’s shirt. “Frank, please. There are too many—”

“Quiet,” he whispered over his shoulder, his voice steady despite the odds. “If I go down, you run. Don’t look back.”

Her heart broke at his words. “No. I won’t leave you.”

The leader barked an order. “Get him.”

The circle erupted. Two men lunged forward. Frank swung with raw fury, his fist connecting with the first man’s jaw, sending him sprawling. The second tackled him hard, and they both crashed to the ground. Cherish screamed as Frank wrestled against the man’s weight, punching, kicking, fighting with every ounce of strength.

“Frank!” she cried, but a rough hand seized her arm, yanking her away. She twisted violently, shrieking, nails clawing at the attacker’s face. He cursed and let go, blood streaking down his cheek. Cherish stumbled back, wild with fear.

Frank managed to throw the man off him, staggering to his feet, his chest heaving. But another rushed him, then another. Blows rained down. He fought back like a cornered animal, but the numbers were against him.

The leader hung back, watching, smiling coldly. “Break him. Make him crawl.”

Cherish’s stomach lurched as she saw Frank stumble, his knees buckling under the weight of fists and boots. She darted forward, hurling herself at one of the attackers, clawing and screaming. The man shoved her aside, and she crashed into the mud, pain shooting up her arm.

Frank roared, surging to his feet again, rage giving him strength. He grabbed a fallen branch and swung it like a weapon, striking one man across the temple. The attacker crumpled instantly. Another step back, cursing.

The leader’s smile faded. His eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward at last, knife gleaming.

“That’s enough.”

The men backed away, leaving Frank bloodied, bruised, and clutching the branch like a sword. His chest heaved, his face set with grim defiance.

The leader approached slowly, his boots squelching in the mud. “You’ve got fire, I’ll give you that. But fire burns out eventually.”

He lunged.

The knife slashed through the air, missing Frank’s chest by inches. Frank swung the branch, splintering it against the man’s arm. The knife flew into the dark. Both men grappled, fists and elbows colliding, bodies crashing to the ground.

Cherish scrambled on her hands and knees, searching desperately for the fallen knife. Her fingers brushed cold metal in the mud. She grabbed it, her hands shaking violently.

“Frank!” she screamed, holding up the blade.

But before she could throw it, one of the men seized her from behind, pinning her arms. She thrashed, the knife slipping from her grip, clattering to the ground.

The leader landed a brutal punch to Frank’s face, dazing him. Blood poured from his lip. Frank staggered, barely staying upright.

“Stop fighting,” the leader hissed, gripping Frank’s collar. “You’re not the one we want. It’s her. Hand her over, and maybe I’ll let you live.”

Frank’s swollen eyes flicked toward Cherish, who was struggling against the man restraining her. Her face was pale, terrified.

“I’ll never give her to you,” Frank spat, blood spraying from his mouth.

The leader’s eyes hardened. He raised his fist, ready to strike the final blow.

Cherish’s scream split the night. “No!”

The sudden wail of a siren cut through the chaos. Red and blue lights flashed faintly through the trees, growing brighter with every passing second. The men froze, exchanging quick, panicked looks.

“The police!” one shouted.

The leader cursed, shoving Frank aside. “This isn’t over,” he snarled. “We’ll finish it later.”

In a flurry of footsteps, the men scattered into the forest, their flashlights blinking out one by one until the darkness swallowed them.

Frank collapsed to his knees, gasping, his body trembling from exhaustion and pain. Cherish broke free from the stunned man who’d held her, rushing to his side. She cupped his battered face, sobbing.

“Frank… oh God, Frank, are you—”

His bloody lips curved into a weak smile. “Told you… I wouldn’t let them take you.”

Before she could answer, the sound of footsteps approached—the heavy, unmistakable tread of uniformed officers.

Cherish’s heart pounded as beams of light cut through the trees once again. But this time, she didn’t know if they were salvation… or another trap.