“It didn’t have to be this way!” he screams, spit dotting my face.
Up close, he looks completely gone.
Blood drips from the corner of one swollen eye, mixing with the tears streaking down his cheeks.
“Get the fuck off of him!” Cullen roars. His arms hook around Matt’s throat, dragging him backward.
I buck hard beneath Matt, trying to get to my knife.
“You couldn’t even save him!” Matt bellows.
Then he throws his head backward, connecting with Cullen’s face.
Cull cries out and falls sideways, clutching his nose as blood spills between his fingers.
I finally free my knife from my pocket.
Matt sees it.
“No!”
He slams his hand down on my wrist. The knife skitters across the bridge before I can even get it open.
Matt falls back on top of me, his breath hot and rotten against my face.
“I saved you,” he croaks.
I shove at his chest, trying to get enough space to breathe, to move, to reach the gun.
His hand clamps around my throat. “I called 911 that day,” he chokes out, shaking violently. “But we should’ve jumped together. We should’ve—”
My blood runs cold.
Matt’s expression crumples.
“You should have chosen me.”
Cold metal presses against my forehead.
My body goes perfectly still.
“If I can’t have you,” he whispers, crying openly now, “nobody can.”
“Hud!”
Cullen barrels into Matt, knocking him sideways.
I scramble to my feet, lungs burning, eyes darting wildly for the gun—
Click.
The sound freezes the entire world.
Archer groans somewhere behind me.
Then silence.
Heavy.
