The Vault (A Farm Novel) by Emily McKay

Author:Emily McKay [McKay, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-12-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CARTER

I showered quickly because I still wasn’t sure what I should “be prepared” for.

I considered and dismissed the possibility that she was going to tell Marek about her nurse’s training. That would pique his interest, but wouldn’t necessarily get her taken to the clinic. Or Darren and me.

I dried off and got dressed. The first actual hot shower I’d had in months and I didn’t even get to enjoy it. I was just pulling my hoodie over my head when the bathroom door slammed open. Darren stood in the doorway, hands clenched, jaw twitching.

Darren, who was easily one of the nicest guys I’d ever met—looked pissed. This was a guy who’d smiled and laughed after I’d nearly beaten the crap out of him. When we first met, his entire family had pointed guns at my chest, but he’d been one of the voices of reason.

And now he launched himself at me. He grabbed me by the front of my sweatshirt and swung me around, flinging me out of the bathroom. I stumbled back into the bedroom and caught myself just before I landed on the bed.

Here’s the thing about fighting that a lot of people don’t get. Yeah, it’s a little bit about size and muscle. It’s a little about surprise. It’s a lot about training, practice, and experience. But more than any of those things, it’s about will. In a fight, a lot of times it comes down to how badly you want to hurt the other person. Are you mad enough or scared enough, do you want to hurt them badly enough that you don’t care if you get hurt? That you don’t even notice?

I had Darren on height and muscle. I don’t know, maybe I had him on training and experience. I’d been to the academy and fought my way out of a lot of tough situations, but he had like five older brothers, so I figured he’d been defending himself against them since he could walk.

But when it came to will, he had me beat. Times ten. He wanted to rip me limb from limb and I didn’t even know why.

I liked the guy. I needed the guy on my side. I sure as hell didn’t want to hurt the kid. So all I could do was defend myself.

He lunged toward me, swinging at my jaw. I managed to dodge that blow, but not when he brought his other fist into my right kidney. Pain exploded through my gut and I crumpled over. He slammed his fists into my exposed back, which hurt way more than it sounds like it would. I managed to sweep my legs around, scissoring his and toppling him to the ground. I tried to scramble back, but he grabbed my leg with one arm and brought his fist down onto my knee. I rolled away from the punch—which was good, because I so didn’t need a broken kneecap. This was getting serious. I kicked my foot out toward his gut, but he rolled out of the way.

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