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Everything that happened, every bad thing that ever happened to me, it all boiled down to the person in front of me. It was all her fault, the rivalry, the fighting between the families, every single thing was her fault.
“I’m sorry that things have to end this way.”
I don’t know what compels me to do it in that moment, but I rush her, shoving at her shoulders. A look of horror flickers in her eyes, and she stumbles backward, the gun in her hand dropping to the floor with a thud. My heart races in my chest, the sound of blood pounds in my ears, and I dart for it knowing that if I don’t get it, she will. It’s strictly about survival now, and if anyone is going to get out of this alive, it’s going to be me.
My fingers wrap around the cold metal, and I stumble backward, nearly tripping over my feet in the process. Tremors of fear wrack my body, and my wild gaze swings to my stepmother. The weight of the gun in my hand is heavy, but it doesn’t stop me from lifting it, pointing the barrel directly at her.
“You can’t do it, Harlow. You aren’t a killer.” She taunts, and my finger shakes as I move it toward the trigger.
She’s right, I’m not a killer, but when it comes to protecting my unborn baby, the men I love, and myself, I’ll become anything I need to.
“Harlow, don’t do something you can’t live with…” Her voice trails off, and before I can even think about it, I pull the trigger. The kickback of the gun vibrates through me, and I watch completely unmoved as the bullet cuts through her chest. Her eyes go wide, and her mouth opens, but the words never come out.
A second later, she falls, just like Shelby did. My entire body clamps up, and then I start to shake watching as the only person I’ve had as a mother figure dies. Forcing myself to move, I drop the gun and turn running down the stairs.
Once I reach the bottom step, I yell, “Banks? Banks?”
“Over here,” he weakly replies, and I rush in the direction of his voice, finding him on the ground near the door. My hands start to move, inspecting him just as my eyes are. His hand is pressed to his side, the bright red blood seeps through his shirt, and I can barely breathe as I look into his eyes.
“Please don’t die on me, Banks.” Tears fall, skating down my cheeks, but I don’t even feel them. All I can see is blood, it’s everywhere, on my hands, on the floor. Death surrounds me, and I refuse to let it claim another person.
“Banks,” I whimper, but he’s slowly fading, the color draining from his face. He’s lost so much blood, and there is nothing I can do.
“I love you,” he says, but it sounds like a wheeze. His bright blue eyes fall closed, and panic seizes my heart.
“Don’t. Stop. This isn’t the end. Banks!” I scream, pressing harder against the wound. Sirens sound off in the distance, but it feels like it’s too late. I can feel him leaving me.
“Please, Banks! Stay with me,” I sob, but he doesn’t listen. He doesn’t open his eyes, and by the time the ambulance has arrived, I have no more tears to cry. In the end, my stepmother took more from me than I could have ever imagined. More than I think my heart can handle.
Epilogue
One Year Later
They say time heals all wounds, and I believe that. I think that as time goes on the heartache and loss, it all gets easier to deal with. The pain becomes less, the sadness isn’t so suffocating, and slowly the anger toward it all fades away.
“You sure you’re ready to do this?” Sullivan asks.
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” I say, looking down at our four-month-old daughter. She is still so small, so fragile. Even though I know Caroline will take care of her, it’s hard to let her go. Even if it’s just for a few hours.
“I promise little Phoebe will be perfectly fine with me,” Caroline chimes in. “We will have a great time watching classic movies, reading stories, and singing that baby shark song before bedtime.”
“Oh, god, I can’t hear that song anymore,” Sullivan frowns.
“But, she loves it!” I interject. “And more importantly, it makes her sleepy.”
“She probably wants to go to sleep to get away from that song,” Sullivan grins.
“You guys just need a break, that’s all. So, go, get out of the house. Go have fun. I’ll send you updates every ten minutes if it will calm your mind. Just please, go do something.” I know she is joking, but I actually like the ten-minute update idea. The last year has been crazy, and protecting our daughter is the most important thing to me. Since her birth, I’ve been with her every second of every day.
