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I heard Oliver take in a sharp breath.
“And now, with Juan in jail, I knew it was only a matter of time before he gave me up. He just needed to recognize me and the game would be up. I thought the only way to quiet things was staging a suicide.”
My stomach rocked, but I had to keep my focus. I trained my gaze on the gun. If I ducked and ran toward him… but that would risk Oliver getting shot.
“I love you, Oliver. I just can’t keep seeing you love someone else.”
Will had fallen into a twisted love for Oliver. His own shadowy tendrils curled around the image of love he crafted in his head, distorting it, turning it into this creature that needed to be fed with blood.
“So why not take us out before the investigation picked up steam?” Oliver asked. “Why wait until now?”
“Because it’s hard, okay? Killing someone. Especially someone who I’ve known since we were kids. Fuck. I wasn’t the one holding the knife that night, and I… Jesus. I just wanted to scare you two. Break you two up. I wanted you to come back to spending time with me, being with me. Just hanging with me. I didn’t mean… but it happened. We can’t change that.”
“Let him go.” My throat was tight, like it was in a boa constrictor’s grip. “Let him go and we can change what happens to you. We can work out a deal. You don’t have to do this. There’s still a chance I can fix it.”
Will paused. He cocked his head, his gaze bouncing between Oliver and me. The wheels spun visibly in his chaos-filled head. He was weighing things out.
“Things can change,” I pressed. “You can find happiness, and so can Oliver. Just put the gun down. We can make things better.”
“No. Nothing’s ever going to be better.”
Things went from worse to worst in the blink of an eye. I had, for a split second, thought maybe Will was beginning to regret his decision. Instead of putting the gun down, though, he lifted it and aimed it directly at me. With one eye snapped shut, he didn’t wait a second longer.
William pulled the trigger.
What happened next was complete chaos. The deafening roar of a gun blast shredded through the space, amplified by the shipping container. A vicious buzz filled my ears. It was the only thing I could hear.
But the main point? I could hear.
I’m alive. I’m still standing. I’m not bleeding.
He had missed. The bullet whizzed by me, tearing into the shipping container behind me.
One that must have contained buckets of flammable fluids, because seconds later, a loud boom pounded against the ringing in my ears, followed by a singing heat that scorched the back of my neck and caused me to drop to my knees.
The bullet hit whatever was in those containers. And whatever was in those containers appeared to be highly flammable.
Fire spread at a blistering rate. Before I could even get back onto my feet, we had been surrounded. Oliver coughed into his hands. Will was lying motionless on the ground.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing onto Oliver’s wrists. I ran, pulling us toward the exit. The fire licked at us from all sides.
“Wait!” Oliver stopped, Will at his feet. I could feel the fresh air from the bay battling against the smoke plumes that were filling the container. Oliver bent down and grabbed onto Will, but he had been knocked out cold. Something must have exploded from the container and hit his head.
I coughed and knelt down next to Oliver. “We need to pull.”
And we did. We dragged him toward the exit, the heat causing blisters to form on my exposed skin.
He was dead weight, though, and the smoke made it even harder to carry him. I could barely see the way out.
And then the door started to slide down. Our only escape path was seconds from being cut off. We would cook in here.
“Oliver!” There was no time. I let go of Will and grabbed Oliver, yanking him hard, throwing us both on the ground. The momentum was exactly what I needed. I wrapped Oliver in my arms as I rolled, just barely making it under the door before it fell shut.
Dirt, ash, and tears filled my eyes. I got up, helping Oliver onto his feet. The flames were growing stronger and stronger.
I looked to Oliver, seeing a combination of grief and relief reflected back at me. “We need to get out of here. That could blow.”
“Will…”
“Are you okay? Anything hurt?”
“I can’t… no. I’m okay. I’m good. Hurry, let’s go.” Oliver’s voice cracked as he spoke. There was no time to waste. I wanted to get Oliver as far from here as possible.
We ran, hard and fast, running so that we could put as much distance between us and the fire as we could.
