Blood on the Snow: A Glennville book featuring Kyle Stevens

A muffled crash from the hallway shattered the tense silence. Then, another. Annie could hear the deputies exchanging gunfire with the convicts, the rapid staccato of shots echoing throughout the old house. It was a chaotic symphony of violence, a terrifying ballet of death played out just feet from where she and Liv huddled in their precarious hiding place. The closet door creaked open, revealing Freeman's silhouette. His eyes, dark and menacing, scanned the cramped space. He was bloodied, his face a mask of furious rage, his breath ragged. He'd sensed the girls' presence. His eyes, cold and calculating, settled on Annie. "So, little bird," he snarled, his voice low and menacing, "you thought you could escape?" Annie remained silent, her eyes fixed on him, her mind racing to formulate a plan, a way to survive this nightmare. Liv, paralyzed by fear, clutched at Annie's arm, her whimpers barely audible. Freeman's gaze shifted to Liv, a sinister glint in his eyes. "Looks like we have a bargaining chip," he said, a cruel smile spreading across his bloody face. He grabbed Liv's arm, his grip tight and painful. Liv's cry of pain was instantly stifled. Annie knew she had to act fast. Hesitation could mean death. She had to think of a way to distract Freeman, to give her and Liv a chance to escape. She had to turn the tables somehow. She lunged suddenly, aiming a swift, desperate kick at his knee. He staggered, his grip on Liv loosening for a precious second. Annie used that moment to her advantage, tackling him to the ground. A fierce struggle ensued. Freeman was much stronger than her, but she fought with the ferocity of a cornered animal. The two tumbled onto the floor, exchanging punches and kicks, their bodies slamming against the hard floor and the walls. Liv, momentarily free, scrambled away. The pungent smell of blood filled the air, thick and metallic.

Pagina's: 333, Paperback, Independently published