His punch connects with my cheekbone, snapping my head back against the wall. Blood fills my mouth.

I fight like a wild animal, clawing and biting and stabbing whenever I get an opening. My knife finds flesh again and again—arms, shoulders, anywhere I can reach. But they’re bigger, stronger, and trained for this kind of work. For every blow I land, they land three.

Through the pain and chaos, I see Andrew watching with cold satisfaction. The man who used to kiss my forehead so gently is standing there like he’s watching a rogue sheep being corralled.

A kick to my stomach doubles me over and makes me retch. Another...