Arranged: An Array Series (Book #1)(20)

“Can you use it?”

“I think so, if one gets close enough.”

He handed me the weapon. “Good girl.”

We rode slowly on, and I focused on Garrett. The intensity of his face and the stiffness of his shoulders told me it was serious.

A high-pitched cry shrieked through the air, shaking me to the core. I quickly looked around for the source, to find one of Garrett’s men plummet to the ground, an arrow sticking out from the horse.

“Ava!” George yelled behind me. I turned to find him on the ground, running in my direction. “Get down!” I slid off Onyx, and realized that all the Elite Eight were surrounding us.

“Up!” Garrett’s voice demanded. His men lifted their metal shields over their heads as arrows launched through the sky, striking our defense.

George and I stood together, like two soldiers on the battlefield, waiting to meet our fate. I thought of my father and the last words I’d spoken to him. I’d told him I’d be fine, and I’d write to him as soon as I arrived. Now, the only letter that may reach him would be one of my death. My breathing was unsteady; the anticipation of what was coming sent my heart racing.

George reached for my hand and clasped it until my knuckles were white. I blinked rapidly to keep tears from falling. If I had to die, I was glad to be by his side.

“We’re going to be all right,” George vowed, with a small jerk of my hand.





“Get ready, men!” Garrett yelled over the roar of the enemy. In a synchronized manner, the men brought down their shields. George blocked me with an arm and eased backward. I couldn’t see how many there were or how outnumbered we may be; the men blocked my view on all fronts.

“Ava,” George shouted over the noise. “If you have the opportunity, run into those woods.” He pointed behind me. “I will find you.”

“I won’t—”

“Do what I say,” he growled. “I will find you. Hide; don’t trust anyone around here to help you. You must find a way to get word to my father or yours.”

“I can’t leave you again.” It was as though he was saying goodbye. He knew that he may not make it out.

“I love you,” he said. “Never forget that.” An uncontrollable sob racked through my body. I’d just got George back, only to lose him as quickly as I had the first time. I felt as if I let go of George’s hand, he’d slip away from me.

Clashing metal sounded, ringing my eardrums. Our men shifted back at the force of the enemy. A man screeched, and I searched for Garrett, but he was nowhere to be seen. His horse disappeared, and my stomach dropped.

Someone shoved me to the ground, one of my knees hitting something harder than the grass. My knife was laid out in front of me and a man almost stepped on it. I snatched it up, quickly moving back. Two men fought, grunting while their swords collided.

Getting back to my feet, I searched through the cluster of men for George. Pure terror hit me when I couldn’t find him. I backed up, getting myself out of the chaos of men to get a better look. A barrel-chested man suddenly rushed through the crowd like a bear. Following his direction, my whole body froze as my focus settled on George. Holding his sword in front of him, George was ready as the brute held up his own weapon, attempting slash him down. He blocked the blow, trying to push the beastly man back but gaining no ground. George circled the man, eyeing him, waiting for his next move. For the man to be so large, he was quick on his feet. He headbutted George, which sent him reeling back.

“George!” I screamed, stumbling forward. The aggressor looked at me dead in the eyes and smiled leisurely.

Returning his attention back to George, who was on the ground, shaking his head, the man stepped forward. Snatching up a handful of rocks with my free hand, I hurled them at the brute, trying to buy George time.

Glaring, he pointed a bulky finger at me. “Yer next, darling. I can’t wait to have ye.”

Receiving his back, I strode toward the man, clenching my knife in my hand. The enemy raised his sword to take his final flow, when I lifted my own weapon. As I lurched my arm forward, my body was yanked back by my waist. Instantly I started to kick, landing blows on someone’s shins.

“Stop it, ye lettle shit,” snapped my captor, squeezing me harder.

“Let me go!” I commanded. The brute turned around to look at the commotion. He saw the knife in my hand and chortled.

“Ger job, Hanson,” he shouted at his man. “Hold her until I’m done with her friend. Her and I are going to have a little fun when I’m done.”

Hanson snickered. “Yer are in fer it now. Pierce isn’t very gentle.”

“Neither am I,” I retorted, landing a swift kick to his knees. I lifted both my legs, giving him my full weight while I repeatedly stomped on any body part I could. The clouds must have moved away because my knife glinted on the ground in front of me.

I booted him again with my heels, and wiggled, trying to pry myself out of his grasp. George yelled, and my focus went to him. Twirling his sword to the side of him, George glowered at Pierce. Both men faced each other before George swung horizontally for Pierce’s throat. Stepping back, Pierce barely escaped, which sent him into a rage. He bolted toward George, and adrenaline shot through me.

Using my elbows, I tried to land a blow on Hanson.