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Just when I think Declan has the upper hand, the other guy moves, raising his gun in the air, and right at Declan. I open my mouth to warn him, the words getting caught in my throat a second too late. The bastard pulls the trigger, the bullet leaving the chamber faster than I can track it. My eyes widen as Declan’s body jerks, the bullet hitting him in the abdomen. His hand comes up to cover the wound, then he’s looking at me. He’s never looked at me the way he’s looking at me right now like he might actually be afraid for my life.
“Run!” he yells, but my muscles refuse to budge, my feet becoming roots buried deep beneath the concrete. That is until the guy who just shot Declan raises his gun in my direction. My self-preservation springs into action and my body moves without thought.
I run to a nearby dumpster and hide behind it. There’s nowhere to go from here, and it’s the best I’ve got. I could run away, but there’s no way I can leave Declan here alone and I’m not getting around that bastard with the gun without dying. Something in my belly tightens as the silence around me festers.
Where are the bullets? Why don’t I hear anyone running? I peek around the edge of the dumpster and see the man pointing his gun at Declan’s head now. Something in me snaps, it’s like my heart makes the choice before my head can even think through it. Instantly I’m running around the dumpster, squeezing myself between it and the wall until I make it to the other side. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, and I can see the pain in Declan’s features. He’s hurting, which only pushes me further to do what I’m about to do.
The man holding the gun has his back toward me now.
Perfect!
“You think you fuckers are so smart, messing with a man like Richards.” He chuckles, his voice labored. “But you aren’t.” He kicks Declan in the side right where he just shot him. Declan grunts at the impact and I hate the noise. I hate that he’s in pain. I have to fix this. I have to save him, save us both. Maybe the hero in my story isn’t a white knight, maybe it’s me.
“I hope she was worth it. I hope her pussy was worth your fucking life.” I grit my teeth, fury overtaking the terror coursing through my body. Sneaking behind him, my movements are slow, but precise even with my shaking limbs. I don’t know how I do it, but I grasp the gun in my hand.
It’s heavy and cold and I thank whatever god might be watching over me that the man doesn’t notice me then. He doesn’t notice anything, the only person who does is Declan who is staring at me with a look of awe and anger. Without thinking, without feeling, I point the gun at the back of his head.
Exhaling a ragged breath, I pull the trigger.
Chapter Sixteen
Declan
The gun goes off, and the man’s head in front of me explodes. Blood and brain matter fly in every direction, but I couldn’t care less about those things. My eyes hone in on Jessa, as I watch, her shaking hands drop the gun almost immediately after, as if the weapon is going to burn a hole in her hand. Her doll-like features are a mask of terror and shock. If I didn’t know before that she had never shot someone, I would now. The guilt, the shame, it’s all but painted onto her face.
The guy’s body sags to the ground, a moment after the gun does. Part of me is angry that she didn’t listen to me, while the other part of me is grateful that she didn’t. I was prepared to die, but before this moment I didn’t expect it to be over this blue-eyed, blonde-haired woman. Of course she had to fucking save me, driving the knife of betrayal deeper into my flesh. I didn’t want to be indebted to her. I didn’t want anything more to do with her than sex, but she has weaseled her way under my skin with her soft whimpers, pleading eyes, and those pink lips. Fuck, they were my undoing.
“We need to go. There are more coming,” I hiss through my teeth, the bullet in my stomach burning deep inside my flesh. Exhaling a groan, I push myself up off the ground, surprised once more when Jessa starts moving toward me. She grabs onto my arm and tries to help me up, but I shrug her off. I don’t want to owe her anything more than I do.
“I don’t need your help,” I lie, watching as the sting of rejection takes over her features.
“Stop being stubborn and let me help you. I want to get out of here alive as much as you do,” She growls, and I huff out a harsh breath, letting her help me to my feet. I bite my tongue, stopping myself from telling her we wouldn’t be in this damn situation if we didn’t have to bring her to the fucking hospital.
