Hatchet Book Summary Chapter 2 นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Fake marriage is chapter 1...there was a little mix-up Chapter 2: Alice's POV The midday sun cast a brilliant glare over the city, bouncing off the towering glass buildings as our sleek black SUV navigated through the bustling streets toward the restaurant. I leaned back in my seat, fingers tapping restlessly against the door handle as my mind wandered back to the stranger from the airport. I couldn’t believe I'd actually considered speaking to him, let alone involving him in my half-baked plan.

My arms and shoulders burned from Jessa’s nails. The not-knowing gnawed at me in the suffocating dark. I found the hatch above me with my fingertips. Thick, reinforced wood with a latch on the outside that I couldn’t reach no matter how I twisted. I slammed my palms against it anyway, over and over, “Hey!” I shouted. “Let me out of here, you bastards!” There was no answer at first. Still k hit the hatch harder “Open this fucking thing! You can’t just leave me in here to rot!”

I grabbed the second man’s key ring from his belt. Checked the chamber of the rifle. Loaded. Functional. I rushed back to Sylvia. Lifted her carefully. Cradled her against my chest. “We’re leaving,” I whispered. This wasn’t victory. Not yet. This was survival. I climbed the stairs slowly, listening for reinforcements. The hallway above was dim. Empty. For now. The fire had long burned out. The house was a charred skeleton. Smoke still lingered faintly in the air. My childhood home was reduced to ash.

I grit my teeth and let it, because if pain is the toll, I will go bankrupt. I feel the shrapnel in my head. A puckered resistance under the cloth, a skew of metal lodged where no metal should be. I swallow bile, slide two fingers under the packing, and dig. When I find the edge, I hook it and pull. The thing that comes free is twisted and mean, a shard from whatever detonated when Holt’s men got cute. It scrapes my knuckles on the way out. Blood follows in a hot wash, and my vision sways. I want to pass out. It’ll have to wait.

I chuckled giving them one last hug before standing. "Bye, don't give your Aunt any trouble." They smiled. "We won't." They both said, waving as I went out the door, going to my car. I started the car deciding to stop by the mall first before dealing with the problem at hand. I couldn't help but smile at the thought of Vincent. - End Of Book 2: Chapter 1: Vincent & Bartenders -

I didn't understand much back then, but I recognized the smell of blood. Something was terribly wrong. However, my feet felt rooted to the ground. I was too frightened to run. Then came the heavy thud of a butcher's cleaver striking a chopping block again and again. Each blow echoed through the kitchen. I was still clutching a handful of dirt. It slipped through my fingers and pattered onto the ground. The sound was tiny. But somehow Daniel heard it. Because the chopping stopped at once. The door creaked open. Daniel stood there with a butcher's cleaver in his hand. The blade was chipped and uneven, nicked from years of use.

The hunt was over. The chase had begun. END OF CHAPTER 22

Chapter 2: Awakening in the Den My eyes fluttered open to a world that felt wrong, like I'd stumbled into a dream I couldn't wake from. The air was thick and earthy, smelling of damp stone and smoke from flickering torches. I was lying on a rough bed of furs, my body aching from the chase through the woods. Every muscle screamed, but it was the heat inside me that scared me most—a slow burn starting low in my belly, spreading like wildfire. What the hell had happened? One minute I was hiking alone, trying to outrun my shitty city job and the emptiness it left, the next I was running from... wolves? No, not wolves. Men who turned into wolves. And that guy—Thorne—he'd saved me, but his eyes, t

“You’ll have to get past me first.” That’s when they all came at me at once. I grabbed my knives from my thighs and duck before the first rogue swiped me. I stabbed him in the neck and sliced clean through his carotid artery. His blood sprayed on me, but I don’t care. One by one, I start taking them down, aiming for major arteries. One of the men grabs me by the jacket and I let it slip off before grabbing the ends and twisted it around his neck and snapping it.

The fact that the perfect stranger is following with sobbing nods, tells me this is not the first dangerous situation she’s been in. Chapter 1.25 How Many Zeros - Rourke