ChosenOne: Hey, we've talked a lot since this review. I hope everything's going ok now between you, your sisters, and all that jazz. And, yes, you're now OFFICIALLY weird. You must be considering that you, Jessie, and I are now the Nuthouse Gang. Lol.
Windsor AND Zeus: Thank you both so much!
Keys: I won't tell you whether or not this ends happily. However, I will let you in on a little secret: in the last chapter, Marguerite will be with Roxton.
Panda: Well, remember that cane he carried around?
Jessie: I've never been in love, but from what I can tell of watching others, it is sheer Hell – even when the people involved don't realize it. Love can truly be blinding.
Taya: I love torturing him! I think it's a sickness. Lol. Anyway, thank you so much for the compliments.
Fab: Yeah, I've always gotten that impression, too. Oh well. Lol.
Barbie: I love torture stories as long as everything works out in the end.
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Chapter Five
Roxton's POV
I have lost my rifle and in my haste to retreat from the tree house I had forgotten my pistols. Blood gushes from the wound where the raptor had taken a slash at me with his dagger-like claws. I am sprawled on the forest floor, the hungry (or is it angry) dinosaur circles around me, seeming to mock my downfall and me.
Yes, raptor, you have taken down the mighty hunter. Now what? Will you eat me or torture me with this game?
From the corner of my eye I see something shifting through the tall weeds. It must be more beasts coming to take a claim on the man who had killed so many of their kind. I don't want to die, but I am prepared for death.
And then I see a flash of dark curls. Marguerite.
She fires a shot into the raptor. Screams. Fires again.
I struggle to my feet and place a tight grip over the open gash on my upper arm. It will need a multitude of stitches, but I decide to worry about that later. Instead, I stumble towards her like a sailor fights his way towards the beacon in a storm. She opens her arms and I collapse against her, my breathing shallow and scratchy.
She murmurs soothingly into my ear, but I can hear the fear and regret in her voice. How can I tell this angel that I forgive her? That I will cherish her for all time and eternity? That I would rather face a thousand torturous deaths in order to have been graced with the stubborn, fiery, and infuriating woman who has taken me into her arms, saving me from myself?
The others have caught up to us. Malone and Veronica try to take me, but Marguerite's grip is like steel. They would have to pry me out of her cold, dead fingers. Instead, leaning heavily against her with my life pouring onto her blouse and skirt, she half-drags-half-carries me into the elevator.
"I'm so sorry," she whispers.
"You…never…," I swallow, battling against the darkness that threatens to take this moment away from us, "had…to be…forgiven."
And then I black out.
End Chapter Five