Juliette threw herself onto Hunter just in time to absorb the strike of the golf club across her back. She collapsed, her weight pressing down on Hunter. He grunted, and Juliette exhaled a pained sigh of relief—he was still alive. She could hear his strained attempts to breathe, as if something were obstructing his throat.
She twisted around, positioning her back against Hunter's and mimicking his pose. Reaching over his arms, she grasped his wrists, covering as much of him as possible with her body.
Derick redirected his focus to her, swinging the club again. This time it connected squarely with her temple, blackening her vision and nearly causing her to slip off Hunter.
"Enjoying this, are you?" Derick taunted with a laugh. It was clear he found amusement in her attempt to shield Hunter rather than anger.
No, she didn't enjoy being hit—not at all. But given no other option, she'd take the beating over Hunter any day.
When Derick swung again, Juliette saw multiple versions of the club descending toward her. She threw out her hands, each targeting a different image and miraculously caught the real one. The impact felt like it would shatter her arm, but its solidity helped clear her vision; the duplicity resolved into a single image. With both hands, Juliette wrested the club from Derick's grip.
Now grinning savagely, she sat up and brandished the club before climbing to her feet and taking a swing.
Derick dodged and quickly yanked it from her grasp. Dizzy from the head blow and weakened from earlier torture, she couldn't maintain her hold on the blood-slicked club.
Juliette immediately fell back against Hunter, wrapping herself around him with every ounce of strength she had left.
Derick paused his assault and Juliette turned to glare over her shoulder at him. Leaning on the golf club like a cane, he eyed Hunter's battered form with satisfaction.
"Didn't I tell you I'd destroy him?"
Furiously, Juliette ripped off a gag and hurled it at him. "Are you finished?"
Derick slowly picked up the rag and wiped down the club's bloody length. "For today."
"Unchain him," Juliette demanded while still sheltering Hunter beneath her.
Derick smirked lazily. "You do know you're crushing him, right?"
Aware but uncertain if moving would provoke another attack on Hunter, Juliette adjusted herself into more of a protective cocoon rather than lying flat on him. He choked out a breath when she moved slightly. Tears blurred Juliette's vision again as she held onto him tightly.
"Please," she pleaded softly. "Please take them off."
He couldn't move, and freeing him wouldn't change much for Hunter's condition. It pained her to the core. She had already witnessed him beaten into a semi-conscious state, and now she found it unbearable to see him bound and prone. Not for another second. She simply couldn't endure it.
"Points for asking nicely," Derick quipped, clearly amused by her distress. He seemed poised to keep toying with her emotions as long as she allowed him.
"He said he wouldn't resist you. He promised." And Hunter was in no state to fight anyone now. "You can unchain him." Juliette drew in a trembling breath and implored once more.
"What difference does it make? He won't be moving anyway," Derick retorted.
Juliette's tears spilled onto Hunter's neck as she ceased looking at Derick but could still hear his departure. She closed her eyes, sagging with relief. Finally, she and Hunter were alone.
He coughed through pain-laden sobs, showing marginal signs of life with Derick gone. His breaths were loud—far too loud—shallow, and wheezing. They crackled through his throat.
Juliette climbed off him, momentarily paralyzed by the sight of his shredded back. His skin hung in pulpy strips, barely connected by threads. Blood dripped from his side, pooling on the floor in dark red puddles that spread underneath him; its tangy, metallic odor seared Juliette's nostrils. Normally it would have nauseated her, but now it only crushed her heart into the same pulpy mess. She began to sob uncontrollably like Rachelle had when they lost their mother or like Celine during her sixth heartbreak—she was sobbing as though witnessing her best friend beaten to near death.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered through tears—for how long it took her to break free and protect him, for watching this horror unfold, for letting it happen, for being careless enough to get caught and lead to his capture as well, and for not ending Derick Staples when she had the chance years ago.
She yearned to touch him for comfort but feared causing more pain. Her hand hovered over his bruised shoulder before falling limply at her side. Each agonized groan from Hunter sent icy shivers through Juliette. She pulled off her sweatshirt and carefully dabbed at his deeper wounds with it. Hunter instinctively flinched from the added pain, gasping sharply while hot tears streamed down Juliette's face.
"You—you're going to be okay," Juliette promised although the words sounded hollow even to her ears. Her efforts to wipe away the blood only smeared it into pale streaks across his mutilated back. Not an inch of healthy skin remained unmarred by cuts or welts or bruises. "You'll be okay... you'll be fine." Repeating it didn't make it any truer. Witnessing him like this turned every nightmare she'd ever had into a horrific reality that would haunt her dreams forevermore. Gently, she pressed her sleeve against a particularly gruesome gash under his ribs in an attempt to stem the bleeding. Gentleness was all she could muster with Hunter now—if they somehow survived this ordeal, if there was ever an end in sight—this newfound tenderness would be all he'd know from her hereafter; a side of Juliette that hadn't existed until this very moment.
When Hunter spoke, Juliette had to lean down to catch his faint whisper.
"I fucking—" Hunter grimaced. "—hate golf." He tried to lift his head but couldn't manage more than an inch or two with his arms splayed out beside him. Juliette gently lowered it back down.
Her laugh turned into a sob. "Was that supposed to be a joke?"
Hunter nodded. "Not a…a very good one."
"Just relax, okay?" She licked her thumb and wiped away the drying blood splatter on his face. She felt him relax under her touch.
"How's...your head?" Hunter asked weakly. Each word was a struggle.
"My head?" Juliette had almost forgotten the blow to her temple. It throbbed slightly. Slightly. Hardly worth worrying about or even thinking of. "Hunter, it's fine."
"Good," he murmured. "You didn't…didn't..."
"Shh," Juliette said. "We don't need to talk."
"Have to do that," he finished on a rush of air, taking another deep, rattling breath. Juliette's tears flowed again. "You didn't."
She studied Hunter's already blackened back, covered in red welts and still bloody despite her best efforts to clean him up. Indignation replaced her incredulity; of course she'd had to act. It was required of her like nothing ever before had been. She placed her hand over one of his and intertwined their fingers.
"You don't get it, do you?" said Juliette. With her other hand, she brushed the hair plastered by sweat from his forehead. A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye, and Juliette wiped it away too. "I'm honor-bound to protect you, Hunter."
"No."
"Yes! I have to." She wasn't entirely sure he'd actually said "no." It might have just been a breath; his voice was so faint. Either way, she tightened her grip on his hand. He squeezed hers feebly in return. "You won't die on my watch."
"Juliette...he's going...to..." Fresh pain rippled through him as he clenched her hand into a fist, cutting off circulation in her fingertips. "Kill me."
He seemed resigned to it, as if telling her she might as well stay out of the way because he was doomed regardless of what she did. It made her angry, though she couldn't blame him after what he'd endured—beaten nearly senseless and chained to the floor—why wouldn't he feel that way? But Juliette couldn't accept it.
"Relax," Juliette prompted him. "Breathe."
Hunter hadn't been breathing properly; he let out a sharp exhalation and shuddered through a few more breaths. Juliette bit her lip against another rush of tears and took a deep breath herself.
"He has to get through me first if he wants to kill you," she declared firmly.
"He will."
"So be it then! I won't stand by while he tortures you, okay? I won't."
Hunter sighed softly. "Okay." His voice was barely audible.
Juliette never imagined he would yield so quickly, but the idea of Derick continuing his abuse was intolerable for both of them.
"You're conceding? Just like that?" Her attempt to tease him fell flat.
"Shut up," Hunter winced, closing his eyes. "Just don't…die because of me."
His words came out in gasps, with long breaths in between. Juliette almost felt as if she needed to hyperventilate alongside him.
"I'd prefer not to," she replied.
"Promise me."
"I promise." In a sudden move, Juliette kissed him just below the ear, then pressed her forehead against his temple. "No one's dying—neither you nor me."
She straightened up, thinking he might have drifted off to sleep.
He opened his eyes slightly, looking at her without turning his head. "You've always… talked…a lot…" He struggled with each phrase.
"About sacri…fice," he managed to say while exhaling heavily.
Juliette wiped her eyes with her wrist. "So what if I did?"
"So don't…do it."
"Hunter, you're my best friend." The term 'best friend' hardly did justice to what she felt; she'd stand in the path of far more than a golf club for him—bayonets, trains, ravenous wolves—without a second thought or any thought at all.
"Don't," he begged softly. "Promise again."
"Okay."
"Say it."
"Okay. Okay, I promise." For her, it meant she wouldn't need to sacrifice herself—it would never come to that point.
"Thank you," he murmured. "I…trust…your pro…mises."
Juliette hoped he could forgive her if she ever did die for him. Her promises once had weight; here, they were just words.
Hunter closed his eyes once more, looking almost serene despite his bleeding back. After some thought, Juliette leaned down and kissed his cheekbone gently twice before lingering there. Tears fell from her nose onto his face.
"But you have to let me worry about you," she whispered.
"Yeah... yeah, that's... fine," he exhaled slowly.
"You know—" Juliette swallowed hard. "You know I adore you, right?"
Her face felt like it was on fire. She never confessed things like that.
He was on the brink of laughing but just couldn't. "I am... ador... adorable," he teased her with some difficulty.
Juliette gently brushed his tear-streaked face. "Yeah," she murmured.
"Don't, uh..." He inhaled sharply, pausing until he regained some composure. "Don't change too... much on me, okay?" A fleeting smile crossed his lips.
Juliette managed a small laugh, the most she could muster. "Am I being too nice?"
He nodded, giving her that same half-smile.
"Sorry." Juliette let her eyes slide over his back again, tension gripping her like a punch to the gut. She could still picture the club striking him. Turning her head away, she squeezed her eyes shut until tears flowed and dried.
She didn't know what to do or say. All she wanted was to make things better, but she had no clue how to ease his pain or distract him from it. She could feel his shivering.
"Here, does this help?" She gently draped her sweatshirt over his shoulders.
He tensed at the touch against his wounds. "Not really."
"Okay." Juliette pulled it away. "I'm sorry."
Hunter kept trembling. Juliette yearned to hug him, to lie on top of him and warm him with her body heat, but she knew it would only worsen his pain. She felt helpless.
"Try to sleep," she suggested, kissing his cheek again now that she felt comfortable doing so. "Before he..." She swallowed hard and kissed him once more. She was desperate to do something different for this different situation. "Before he comes back."
"Juliette," Hunter laughed quietly. "If you... kiss me one more time... I'm going to have a heart attack."
Juliette smiled against his face before pulling away honestly. "It's all I can think to do."
"I know," he replied.
Juliette's heart broke at the sight of him so weak and damaged. He really was broken—and that shattered her even more. "You're going to make it through this," she promised, repeating it until it felt true for her too.
"Yeah," he said flatly. "Sure."
Juliette nodded silently, determined that he would make it through this ordeal. He had to survive; there was no other option for her mind to accept. Running her fingers through his hair, she hoped the gentle sensation would lull him into sleep as an escape from pain. Softly scratching circles up and down his arm, she rubbed her thumb over the nape of his neck.
"Are you really... petting me right now?" Hunter asked incredulously. "Is that happening?"
Juliette quickly withdrew her hands from him. "Oh. Sorry, is that weird?"
He laughed breathlessly and closed his eyes; a slight smile lingered at the corners of his mouth. "I like it."
"Okay," Juliette whispered and went back to playing with his hair, continuing long after she felt him drift into unconsciousness.