Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

And then a pain hit my side under my ribs, digging into my
flesh as some kind of small blade pierced my skin.
I grunted, immediately feeling the blood drip out as I shot
my gaze over my shoulder, seeing the asshole who did it.
Miles Anderson.
The guy who had Winter in his car when she was sixteen.
The guy who also attacked Rika the same Devil’s Night I did.
Fuck. He worked for my father now?
“A few weeks,” he lamented, “more than enough time for
us to find her and have some fun.”
I thrashed, growling as the pain seared my skin.
“She’s been fun to mess with these past couple of weeks,”
he said. “As we waited for GGabriel to give us the go-ahead
anyway.”
“Motherfucker,” I muttered, seething.
It was him, fondling her in the theater bathroom. Him and
his buddies who snuck into the house that morning.
We should’ve taken so much more than a tooth from his
skull all those years ago, son of a bitch.
But before I had a chance to fight, he came around and
shot his knee into my stomach, sending me doubling over and
coughing to catch my breath. He stuffed something into my
mouth, forced me out the door, and into the back of one of the
SUVs as I tried to whip out of his hold, but pain shot through
me every fucking time I moved.
Ironically, that wasn’t the first time I’d been stabbed on
that same side. This felt deeper, though.
I hit the floor, coughing, and I looked around for my father,
but he must’ve been in another car.
As the SUV took off, I just prayed Michael and Rika
would come through.
Keep her safe. Don’t leave her alone.