The bridge creaks behind him, and all three of us flinch.
Archer stands near the tree line, hands raised, one broken zip tie dangling from his wrist.
“Matt, come on, buddy. Put the gun down.” Archer says carefully, voice shaking.
Matt spins so fast he nearly loses his grip on the gun.
Archer freezes.
Beside me, Cullen grabs my hand with both of his. I help him up while Matt’s distracted, his body swaying hard into mine the second he’s standing.
“Fuck you too.” Matt snarls at Archer. “Fucking pathetic lovesick asshole.”
He jerks the gun in our direction. “Move.”
Archer obeys, hands still raised as he edges toward us.
Matt takes a deep breath, jaw tight. “I knew there was something wrong with you,” he mutters. He taps the side of his head with the gun, grinning suddenly. “Recognized it because I’ve got it too.”
My stomach knots.
“That’s why I sent the texts. Needed you to know somebody cared. Somebody actually saw you.”
He starts pacing again, uneven and restless.
Matt’s expression twists as he looks at Cullen. “Then this asshole started getting your attention.”
He cocks the gun.
Cull stiffens against me.
I tighten my grip around him, his muscles locked underneath my arm.
“Matt,” I beg, pulse hammering so hard it makes me dizzy. “Please put the gun down.”
“NO!”
The scream explodes across the bridge.
He yanks at his hair with his free hand, pacing faster now. The gun swings wildly with every movement.
“I’ve fought so fucking hard for you!” he shouts. “Nobody ever listens—nobody gets it—”
“You’re fucking crazy,” Cullen spits.
Everything stops.
Matt turns slowly.
The gun snaps toward Cullen.
BANG.
The shot deafens me.
Metal shrieks overhead as the bullet slams into one of the beams above Cullen’s head, rust showering down around us.
“What the hell!” Archer stumbles backward.
