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“You fucking bastard. You took their lives, you will remember their names. Lucas.” I press the barrel harder against his skin. “Abigail,Cara, Jones, and Jack.” At the end, I’m breathing heavily.
“Baby girl, untie us and we can end this. You don’t need to,” Cyrus offers calmly, trying to get through to me. “You don’t need his blood on your hands. I can do this. Let me. I love you. Please, let me do this for you.”
I shake my head. “He’s my past, my demon.”
“Then do it,” he challenges. “I can’t live without you!”
“Then die,” I state evenly as I fire.
My hand jerks back from the recoil, and the shot is so loud my ears ring, but I feel nothing as his head explodes. Gore rains down on me, but still, I feel nothing. No happiness, no relief.
Just emptiness.
It’s over, he’s dead.
We are safe.
I drop the gun and turn to them. They watch me lovingly. There is no disgust, only relief that we are alive, that I’m okay. Licking my lips, I meet each of their gazes, then I try to stumble towards them to free them.
They are alive.
They survived, and the past is dead.
It’s over.
“I’m sorry, I love you,” I slur, and then I fall, smacking my head against the floor to the sound of their worried yells.
