AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I have to go,” I said, sliding off him. I stumbled to the floor, hurriedly getting on my boots.
“Wait. You’re serious? You can’t go—you can’t leave me here—” He might’ve sworn after that, but I didn’t hear much of anything else, for I’d taken off in a run, out the door in the next second.
Someone would find him and help him. That someone just wouldn’t be me.
I was seconds from pushing out of the club and into the liminal space between the lobby and the club when I realized I’d forgotten my gloves in the room. A part of me wanted to go back—and I thought about it—but at the same time, I knew I shouldn’t. Dragon man would only be pissed at me, and right now I didn’t want to see the look in his eyes.
So I left my gloves with him for the second time. I left them even though it hurt me to do so. The man was building quite the collection.
The woman working the lobby tried to ask if something was wrong, and all I could do was shake my head. I didn’t even return the mask to her. I ran out of the club with it on, pushing outside, into the cool night air.
Strange as it was, I almost felt the same as I had that night when I’d tried to throw myself off a bridge, only I had cum leaking out of my pussy, and Father Charlie wasn’t here to save me from making a reckless decision.
Oh, and I had no idea where the nearest bridge was.
I tore off the mask, letting it drop to the concrete sidewalk, and then I ran. I didn’t know where I was running to, when I’d stop, and it didn’t matter. That’s the thing: when everything felt pointless, nothing at all mattered to you anymore. Not life, not death, and certainly not love.
I wasn’t going to try to kill myself again. If I could not live for myself, I would live for one thing and one thing only.
Spite.
I would live out of spite for my father, and I would work to take him down just because I could. Because I fucking wanted to. I would watch my father’s empire burn, and then maybe I’d be able to relax.
Maybe then I’d be able to let it all go.
My feet slowed to a walk, and then I stopped. I didn’t stop because I was breathing hard. No, I stopped because I knew I could not run away. The only thing I could do right now was get back home and plan.
I heaved a sigh and turned around, hoping I didn’t get myself too lost in these city streets. Granted, I didn’t run that far from the Playground, but—
All thoughts in my head stopped the moment I turned and saw someone standing thirty feet away. Wearing all black, a thick hoodie with the hood up so I couldn’t see their face. Even the dim lighting from the streetlights didn’t help. The shadows beneath the hood were too dark and thick.
And, even then, the face wasn’t what caught my eye. The object that held that honor was the gun the person had in his hand. A gun he then lifted and pointed at me.
It was too late. There was no cover nearby, nowhere to run. There were also no cars driving by, so there’d be no witnesses.
A loud bang escaped the gun, echoing in the empty street. I took a step back—or, more like, I was forced to with the impact.
Now, the pain… the pain was a funny thing. It didn’t blossom in me right away. Heat was the first thing I felt, blossoming in my gut. It was only after I glanced down, finding the bullet had torn right through my dress and lodged itself in my gut that I began to feel the searing pain of metal inside me.
And then, it was like something switched. Everything inside of me began to hurt. My breathing was hard, my muscles just wanted to give out. Fuck, it hurt so bad. I’d never felt a pain like this before, not once in my life.
Mental pain was nothing to me anymore, but this? This was sheer torture.
The man with the gun lowered his hand, and he turned away from me, running. He didn’t stay to finish the job, probably because he thought he had me.
I fell backward, onto the concrete, hitting my head in the process, too slow to cushion the impact. My vision saw stars, and I groaned as I reached a shaking hand to my gut. Not sure if I was trying to apply pressure or if I simply wanted to feel the slick wetness of my blood all over my hand.
Hmm. I was bleeding a lot. And with the pain, that bastard must’ve hit something important.Or maybe this was just how gunshots felt? I had no idea. Shit.
I stared at the sky above Cypress, wondering if this was it for me. How long would I wait here before someone found me? Would I be cold, or would they save me in the nick of time? All those times I dreamed of killing myself, how I hated looking in the mirror after that night with Rocco Moretti… it was all too real to me now.
Nothing like staring death in the eyes to make you realize all the mistakes you’d made.Nothing at all like feeling death creeping over you to make you realize you didn’t want to die anymore.
It grew hard to keep my eyes open, but I struggled to do just that, knowing once I closed them, they might not ever open again. I wasn’t ready to die, but I was bleeding something fierce, and I wasn’t strong enough to staunch the flow with how much pain coursed through me. The wind blew by me, and I felt so very cold.
I heard something, but I couldn’t turn my head to see who it was. I tried to open my mouth to say something, to tell them to call an ambulance, but that just seemed an impossible feat. So I lay there, because at this point, it was all I could do.
A familiar face appeared, blocking out the nighttime sky. He took in the blood on my stomach, and a smile grew on his face. Short, light brown hair that looked more black in this light. Tattoos galore. “Well,” he spoke, “aren’t you lucky I’m here, baby girl?” His dark eyes twinkled, and for some reason, I had the feeling that I was the opposite of lucky tonight.
I tried to say his name, but all that came out was a breath that took far too much out of me.
He shushed me. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.” Still he wore that smile, and still I didn’t believe him.
My eyes closed, and as I met with the blackness of unconsciousness, all I could see in my head was his face, that smile, as if he’d known about this. Almost like he’d planned this whole thing, somehow.
Damian.
My life was in Damian’s hands.
Call me a pessimist, but my odds weren’t looking too good.
