He left then. He didn’t use the door or even take a step. He was simply gone.
I wasted no time rushing toward the doors. If I could get there fast enough, maybe I could save her. Then Charming was there, shoving me back, sending me sprawling onto the hard floor.
With a roar, I was up and launching myself at him. I slammed into him so hard we both fell backwards with me straddling his chest. I had a flashback of the night before when I entered the diner to see the very same pose, except Piper was on the bottom while he tried to rob her of her life.
I plowed my fist into his jaw so hard I heard my knuckles crack, but I ignored it and did it again. Charming might be a seasoned killer, but I was from the streets and the one thing the streets taught me was how to fight.
He tried to push me off. He kicked and scratched, but I rebuffed his attempts with punches and jabs to the ribs. All I could see in my mind were the mottled purple bruises—the marks from his hands—that covered Piper’s throat.
His hits became weaker and I climbed off, pulling him up by the shirt and slamming him into the wall. He made a sound and swung, connecting with my jaw. It was a solid hit and I felt it, but it wasn’t enough to get me to release him.
“Would you look at that.” I taunted. “Pretty boy isn’t so pretty anymore.”
He kicked me, and this time I released him to stumble back. But he didn’t do what I would’ve done and take my weak moment to get in a good hit. Instead, he leaned against the wall, dabbing at the blood at the corner of his split lip.
“You can hit me all you want. My bruises will heal. My blood will dry, and in the end I’ll go back to killing and you’ll be dead.”
“I’d rather be dead than be like you,” I spat.
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. It was true. All my life I thought I was some hellion, a product of something bad… I wasn’t. But I’d believed it so absolutely that my wake-up call had been death.
I had to die in order to see the way I should’ve been living.
It was a strong revelation to have, but even so, I knew it was too late for me. But it wasn’t for Piper.
I rushed toward the door as Charming caught hold of my sleeve. “You can’t stop it,” he said, for once the mocking disgust wasn’t in his tone.
“I have to.”
“Once the Grim Reaper leaves a stone, that person’s death is sealed.”
The stone.
It was the answer to all of this.
I looked at Charming. “What if I destroy the stone?”
He shook his head. “That’s impossible. Those stones are unbreakable. They’re perfect in their strength.”
A devious smile turned my lips. “But this stone isn’t perfect. It’s cracked—like me,” I said, repeating what we both heard G.R. say.
He digested my words for long seconds, then let go of my sleeve and looked at the door. “It won’t work.”
But it might and I could see that admission in his eyes.
I rushed to the door. Behind me, Charming called, “One stone. One death. One shot.”
Those were the kindest words I ever heard him say.
It was those words that sped my feet and gave me hope.
This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
Chapter Fifty-Six
“Visitor - a person who pays a visit; caller, guest, tourist, etc.”
Piper
