RILEY'S POV
"How are you still alive, little bird?" he asked, voice low and rough, almost amused, like he was commenting on a half-dead rabbit instead of a girl bleeding in the dirt.
I stared up at him, breath coming in short, ragged gasps. My mind screamed
Run! Run! Run!
But my body mocked the idea. The ankle was dead broken, even shifting my weight made me hurt so much I wanted to cry.
Get up, Riley, you stupid bitch. Get up or you're dead.
"Who the fuck are you?" I spat, trying to sound tough instead of terrified. My voice cracked on the last word. Pathetic.
The scarred one tilted his head. "We're the ones asking the questions."
My stomach dropped through the ground.
