Page 49 of Madness & Mayhem

I shake my hand, and with my free hand, I grab the blade, sliding it from her grip way too easily.

“You aren’t even holding it tightly,” I groan, stepping up behind her.

We’re standing behind the cabin, in the thick brush of the trees where even if we had an intruder or someone curious to travel this far in their search, they wouldn’t see us all the way over here. The trees are thick, and we’re dressed in dark, mixing in with the branches and the dark foliage.

I curl my front around Lakyn’s back, bringing my hands around on either side of her. With her knife in my grip, I poise my hands in front of her, and she watches me intently as I show her exactly where my fingers go.

She nods as she watches me place them where they need to go. Then I hand her the knife, watching her closely as she holds the knife similar to how I was, but it’s still just not where it should be.

I reach forward, adjusting the handle in her grip until she holds it tightly, properly.

“Good,” I praise, pivoting the both of us until we’re in front of a tree. Releasing her, I step to the side.

“Okay, pretend she’s coming toward you head-on. How are you going to react?”

She shoves her knife out directly in front of her, and I’d laugh if she wasn’t planning to go do something so drastic.

I shake my head. “No, like this.”

Gripping my own knife, I walk up to the tree, swiping right so the sharp end of the blade nicks the tree. A large part of the wood chips away, flying through the air before falling to the ground in a light plop.

“Shit, Reign,” she mumbles, staring at me in awe. She stares at me like I’m a saint, a god.

She’s silly, because a man like me would never make it into Heaven.

I turn to her slightly as the corner of my lip quirks. “I want you to be the same, Lakyn. If you fuck up, she could gain the upper hand and we could be screwed. So pay attention to what I’m doing and do the exact same.”

Her eyes narrow. “It’s going to take time for me to be as good as you, Reign. You have practice. I have none.”

I step to the side, giving her full access to the tree. “Which is exactly why we’re here. Practice. You need to be perfect, Lakyn. There are no other options.”

She takes a deep breath, moving forward a step. The light coating of snow on the ground crunches under her oversized shoes. They are about a size too big, but it was the only thing I could find. I left early this morning, before the sun was up, making my way to the edge of Hellcrest Heights. There’s a strip of older homes, most of them elderly people who have lived there their entire lives. As expected, the first home I went to was unlocked, and I was able to score Lakyn some clothes so she wasn’t subjected to living the rest of her life naked underneath my sweatshirt.

I wouldn’t have complained, but she also wouldn’t never been able to leave the house.

“She’s not moving. Attack her,” I snap, and she lunges forward without a second thought, plunging the old rusty knife we found in the kitchen straight into the cold bark.

“Less Jason Voorhees and more psycho killer,” I say.

She growls under her breath, pulling the knife out, needing to wiggle it back and forth until the tip flies free from the thick bark. She steps back, and then lunges forward, slicing into the branch slightly as she shoves the knife in. It goes in farther than before, but still gets stuck when the tip goes in.

“Good. That’s better. Now. Try on me,” I say, stepping in front of the branch.

Her eyes widen, and she takes a step back, leaving the knife inside the branch. “No, I’m not trying anything on you.”

I cock my head to the side, my brow lifting. The sudden fear in her voice has me questioning if she can do this at all.

“Why not?” I lift my own knife toward my chest. “I’d try it on you, Lakyn. Shall we?” I tilt the knife toward her and watch as her entire body tenses.

“No, Reign. Let’s just do it on her.”

I give a slow shake of my head. “Not until I know you’re ready.”

She shivers. “Reign, no.”

I point my knife at her. “Get ready, Lakyn. I suggest you get your own knife out of the tree unless you want to have more marks on your skin than the healing ones you already have.”

Her eyes cut toward the branch with her knife sticking out of it. Her cheeks are rosy, her nose pink from the crisp air. In a split second, she grabs for her knife, pulling it out with all her strength before leaping to the side, ready, a little sloppy, but ready.