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“Just calm down. When Zerro wakes up, I’ll get the full story. You’re in shock, so just breathe and try to calm down.” My eyes grow wide. Is he fucking insane? Somewhere in my mind I know I need to listen to him, but I just shot a gun. I just killed someone. I fucking killed someone!

“I killed someone!” I cry out as if I am admitting my deepest sin. The gun slips from my lap and to the ground. I have seen death, my mother had died at the hands of cancer, but I have never killed someone. I feel the worst kind of hate eating away at who I am.

“You had to. It was you or them.” Jared doesn’t sound remorseful at all.

“That’s not me, though. I wouldn’t ever kill someone. I don’t even know who I am anymore….” The last part isn’t meant to come out of my mouth, but I can’t believe what I have done. I knew that the moment I pulled the trigger someone would die, but I feel like I did too.

“It is either you or him. I can promise you that he wouldn’t have felt anything if they shot and killed you. He deserved it.” My body trembles. Shouldn’t I be crying? Am I really in shock?

“That doesn’t matter. I killed someone.” The words are tumbling out of my mouth.

“You had to.” The way he says it makes it seem final. His stare is gentle, and I know he understands what I am going through. When I said I would pay my father’s debt, I didn’t think I would actually be doing this.

“Where are we going?” I ask, my eyes going back to Zerro. He is still breathing, but his body isn’t moving. When I touch his skin, it is hot to the touch. I keep my hand against his hot skin to remind myself that he is still here with me. Hot skin is better than cold.

“The safe house is up in the mountains. It’s about another thirty minute drive. Then we have to get the code for the security system from Zerro, and we can get in the house.” His eyes go from me, to the road, and back again. I wonder if he thinks I am going to shoot myself or something. I didn’t survive that to end my own life.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, unable to stop myself. A smile pulls at his lips, and I wonder what he thinks is so funny. My body is still shaking, my hands sweating, my breaths still harsh. I don’t find any of this fucking funny. Plus Zerro is bleeding out next to me.

“Zerro clearly has his hands full with you. You don’t seem like his type by the way.” He says it all matter of fact like. I know I am not Zerro’s type. He went for the submissive, I’ll-let-you-fuck-me-however-you-want types.

“By type, you mean, he doesn’t usually go for the women that do whatever the fuck they want?” I ask, eyebrow raised. He laughs gruffly and the tension inside the SUV eases. I am still scared shitless, but my blood stops pounding in my ears.

“By type I mean he generally doesn’t have a woman who I can judge as his type. He doesn’t usually keep anyone longer than a night.”

“Fantastic. I’m going to end up going to jail with the mafia king who also is a manwhore, which I already kind of assumed.” Leaning over, I run a hand through my hair. My curls are everywhere, I’m sure, and I don’t even want to catch a glimpse of my face.

Laughing softly he says, “Just try and relax. Once we get where we need to be, I’ll let you know.” I nod and return to my thoughts. All sound is non-existent in the SUV except for Zerro’s soft breathing and a small amount of radio noise.

I watch out the window, afraid if I close my eyes that I will relive the scene over and over again. I killed someone. I fucking ripped him from his family and friends without even knowing it. I know nothing about him, and yet I put a bullet in his head, ending his life.

I don’t even know who I am anymore. I don’t know why, when Zerro’s hand was slipping from mine, that it hit me. That maybe, just maybe, me being around had gotten to him. It is as if in that split second, we had reversed roles. I know for a fact that if I would have let his hand slip from mine, he would have been gone, dead to the world. As much as I wanted that to happen, a part of me didn’t want it to happen.

So I pulled the trigger. I shot the man who was trying to end his life. I saved Zerro. He doesn’t realize it yet, but he saved me too.

“Get some cloth and water,” Jared orders from the bedroom. I am in the kitchen pacing like a maniac. He is just going to take the bullet out, clean it like a God damn scraped knee, and stich it up. Something about that doesn’t sit well with me.

Filling a small bucket with water, I bring it to him. Zerro is just starting to come around.

“Get this fucking bullet out,” he growls at Jared. He is thrashing back and forth on the bed as Jared uses a pair of tweezers to dig around in his shoulder. A hiss leaves his lips as his eyes seek mine out.

“Whiskey…” Jared asks, pulling me from Zerro.

“Whiskey?” He didn’t ask for whiskey, did he?

“Yeah, I need it to clean the wound.” I get up, running to the kitchen again. I have no idea where the whiskey is kept here, if it has anything to do with Zerro, it is probably all drank.

I search the many cabinets that line the kitchen walls only finding plates, food, and silverware. I pull on a small drawer only to discover it is filled with guns. Then it clicks. Maybe he has some at the small bar he has in the dining room that I noticed earlier. Closing the drawer, I run to the dining room, my feet slipping on the wood floors. My eyes search the small bar shelf from a distance. BINGO. My eyes land on the bottle of bourbon. Zerro’s favorite I assume since it is the only one I ever see him drinking. He will hate to see this go to waste.

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