His face drains of all color, turning ghostly white and as gray as the clouds above us. His eyes bulge with disbelief, jaw slackening as though he's seeing something his mind simply cannot process.
“What the fuck?” Liam exhales in disbelief, the gun in his hand trembling slightly. “What the actual fuck?”
Joe's mouth curves into that familiar smirk I've seen a thousand times before. His arms open wide like a long-forgotten hug, and I’m quickly relieved he’s not still pointing a gun at Liam.
“Hey, brother. Long time no see,” he says.
Liam's gun wavers between us, his stance rigid, his eyes dart from Joe to me and back, confusion and betrayal warring on his face.
My emotions are getting the best of me as I watch the twins face each other like mirror images distorted by time and secrets.
“Put the gun down, Liam. We have to go, it’s not safe.” Joe lowers his gun with eerie calmness and humor in his throat, as if this is all just a big,massivemisunderstanding.
A deafening crack of thunder rips through the sky, illuminating their matching faces in stark white light, and Liam's gun lowers slightly as disbelief overwhelms his training.
“You're supposed to be dead,” Liam hisses, his anger unleashing. “I buried you. We all did.”
Anxiety churns my stomach inside out, acid rising in my throat. “Please stop!” I cry out, my voice breaking. “Both of you, just stop!”
The screech of tires cuts through the rain as a car tear around the cemetery path. Everything slows to a surreal crawl when the driver's window rolls down, and the glint of a gun appears. I lunge forward as an overwhelming need to protect him and pure blinding fear electrifies me, but a shot fires, and Liam falls to the ground. My scream echoes into each grave, waking up the dead, bouncing off marble headstones and shattering the air.
I may have died a thousand lives in one cruel second.
My soul leaves my body as I watch blood bloom across Liam's chest like a terrible, poisonous flower, his eyes wide with shock as he crumples.
“LIAM!” I run to him, but Joe catches me around the waist, his grip bruising.
“Stay back, Sara!” Joe hisses, dragging me toward the car as another shot rings out, missing us by inches and splintering a nearby headstone.
Rain pelts my face, mixing with tears as I thrash against Joe's hold.
“Let me go!” I scream, my voice breaking, raw and desperate.
I can't lose him. I can't. I dig my nails into Joe’s hands and run to Liam on the wet ground, his eyes burning into mine.
“No, no, Liam. You’re not dying on me do you hear me!” I sob, putting pressure on his wound as best I can. Panic so acute and blinding, I focus on acting as quickly as I can to keep him alive.
Liam’s hand reaches my face, his eyes written in fear. “I love you, Sara.”
“No, don’t you dare. Save it for later,” I choke through sobs, pressing my hands harder against the wet fabric covering his wound.
“You're not dying here. Not now. N-ot now L-Liam. Not n-n-now.” My voice breaks and stutters as I try to staunch the blood that's mixing with rainwater, turning it pink and spreading across the cemetery ground. I’m gutted, utterly destroyed at the sight of him.
Liam's eyes flutter, but he manages to focus on me. “Call... Damien,” he gasps.
Joe appears beside us, his face full of worry. For a moment, I think he might drag me away again, but instead, he shrugs off his leather jacket and kneels down, pressing it firmly against Liam's chest.
“I got him.” Joe reassures me, his blond hair soaked from the rain. His hands are steadier than mine and takes over the pressure on the wound. "Make the call.” And he throws his phone, lodged in his pocket, back at me.
With trembling fingers, I dial Damien and can barely extract a cohesive sentence as I tell him what happened. I hang up after he tells me he’s on his way.
“How long until Damien gets here?” Joe asks, his voice tight with something I can't quite place between worry and guilt.
“Three minutes,” I choke out. “He said three minutes.”
Liam’s eyes fight to stay open, the blue fading, growing distant like a receding tide.
“Sara...” Joe's voice cuts through my panic, firm but gentler than before. “We need to move him. That car could come back.”
