Chapter 705:
His eyes bulged as his insides lurched violently, and he crumpled to the ground, gagging and writhing in agony.
At the same time, Waldo swung his stick down with full force, aiming straight for the back of Rylie’s head.
Sensing the threat behind her, Rylie bent low and twisted sharply, her body flowing with instinctive precision as she slipped out of its path with ease.
In the same motion, she swung the hoe backward in a vicious arc.
The solid handle cracked against the crook of Waldo’s knee.
“Ah!” he howled, toppling forward and crashing hard onto his knees.
Rylie wasted no time. She pivoted, raised her leg, and drove the heel of her hard-soled shoe straight into his face.
Abram staggered upright and lunged at Rylie once more, and Waldo took this chance to bolt back inside. He reemerged with a hunting rifle, leveling the barrel straight at her.
The half-conscious girl forced her head up and cried weakly toward the shattered window, “Be careful! He’s got a gun!”
In the next instant, Abram’s wife seized her and dragged her into a vicious struggle inside the house.
The sight of the rifle erased any trace of restraint in Rylie’s eyes. With a ruthless kick, she drove Abram to his knees, then clamped both hands around his throat and wrenched him sharply toward Waldo’s aim.
A sickening crack rang out as Abram’s neck gave way, his eyes glazing over before his body slumped lifelessly to the wet ground.
“You murderer!” Waldo screamed, his voice breaking with terror at Rylie’s merciless skill. In a frenzy, he fired again and again, but Rylie moved with deadly speed, and every bullet missed its mark.
In one swift motion, she seized the knife Abram had dropped, and with flawless aim, she hurled it at Waldo. The blade tore through the rain, striking his skull with a sickening crack. Blood spattered as his body convulsed, tumbling down the staircase before collapsing onto the waterlogged earth below. He twitched once, then lay still.
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The storm raged on, yet an unnatural hush settled over the scene.
Rylie, drenched from head to toe, stood in the rain and slowly turned to face Brad, who had been silently observing from the shadows. Her gaze was that of a predator — cold, unyielding, and laced with lethal intent.
Brad’s eyes held steady. There was no fear, no hesitation, no doubt of who she was or what she could do. Only a fierce and unshaken admiration burned within them.
“Rylie, you were extraordinary.” Brad closed the distance between them, his hand brushing the rain and blood from her face. With a tenderness that contrasted the storm, he ran his fingers through her drenched hair, then settled his jacket across her shoulders. His voice dropped to a murmur, steady and reassuring. “It’s over now. Go inside. I don’t want you to fall ill. Leave the rest to me. I’ll deal with the bodies.”
Even if she had killed, it meant nothing to him. He would stand beside her, even in blood, and help erase the aftermath.
Rylie stepped into the adjoining house, where Abram’s wife grappled violently with the college girl. The knife was already swinging toward the girl’s face when Rylie closed the distance in a few quick strides, seized a chair, and brought it crashing down against Abram’s wife’s back.
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