AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Christopher turns to me, his tone pleading. “Makayla, that’s not true.” His voice cracks. “Baby, please—”
“How dare you call her that in front of me,” Rebeca hisses.
He turns back to her. “Well, you’ve gone completely mad. I’m not going to let you hurt her.” Rebecca moves in on me, but Christopher steps closer, blocking her view. “What you’re doing is wrong. She’s innocent in all this. Put the gun down. We can talk this out.”
Rebecca stands there, darkness filling her eyes. “Not until we deal with her. She’ll always stand in our way.”
“No—I can’t—I won’t let you hurt her. And I refuse to let you fill her with lies. I love my wife. I always have. What you’re doing is only making it worse for yourself.” Christopher looks back at me, his gaze filled with regret. He’s torn between who to be: the savior, the liar, or the cheater. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you. To us.”
“Stop! Stop talking to her!” Rebecca jabs the gun in our direction. Her eyes bounce back and forth between us as she chews on her bottom lip.
Christopher shifts back toward her. “No, I can’t do this anymore. I won’t pretend anymore. You need to stop this and let her go.”
What is he doing?
Rebecca’s eyes become impossibly wide before she narrows them. “Done? You can’t be done. Everything I’ve sacrificed. You’renotdone.”
“We are. I don’t love you. I never did. You were a mistake.”
“No—you’re just upset. We’ll figure this out—”
“Dammit, stop with this craziness!”
Flames blaze behind her irises. She brings her hard stare to me, her fury burning through me. And then, it disappears, resolve setting in. “Rebecca, please,” I beg. “Just let me go. I’ve only wanted good things for you. You were my friend.”
“And now you’re just in my way.” She looks to Christopher. “You’ll thank me later.” Raising her shaky hand, she steps to the side, getting the perfect angle. She aims the gun at me and pulls the trigger.
Time is a fickle thing. Sometimes, it passes in a flash. Other times, it makes us feel like we’re stuck in it, each second an eternity. I’m not thinking about the present or what’s to come. I think about the past. My mother. Her flowery perfume and smile. Her laughter. I think about an almost stolen kiss on top of a shed with a boy who came back into my life. My thoughts shift to the future. I imagine a life with him. A family. Children and so much happiness. The fulfillment. A vision of what could have been.
Suddenly, time speeds up. A bullet leaves her gun and rips through the air. I hear myself scream and clench my eyes, waiting for the metal to rip through my body.
A cry leaves my lips, and Christopher’s body falls on top of me. Pain erupts from my chest. My arms threaten to dislocate from their sockets from the heavy weight pressing me into the floor.
“Christopher!” Rebecca’s shrill voice breaks me from my fog. Reality punches me in the face, and panic causes my chest to tighten. I’m trapped under Christopher’s body. He’s motionless above me.
“Help—someone help!” Warmth spreads across my chest. I peer down. Blood coats my shirt. It’s not me who’s been shot. It’s Christopher. “Oh God, help me—Ben. Ben!” With every horrid scream, the pain intensifies. I convulse and dry heave, choking on my tears.
“I’m right here.” I tremble in fear. Blinking rapidly, I fight to see over Christopher’s body. Ben is a few feet away, holding Rebecca on the ground. He strains his neck to look back at me, his frantic gaze locking on the red staining my clothes. “No, no, no, no. . . Fuck, Mak, no.” He hesitates but releases Rebecca and runs to me. “Fuck,” he cusses. “Fuck!” He pulls Christopher off me, searching for a bullet wound.
“It’s not me.” My voice cracks. I look at Christopher, who’s still not moving. Crimson soaks his shirt. “He—he—that bullet was meant for me—he stepped. . .” A sob tears up my throat. “Christopher—he saved my life.”
Ben reaches into his back pocket and brings his pocket knife out to cut the wire around my wrists. “Are you sure it’s not—”
“No. It’s all his—Oh God.”
“Mak, He needs help. Can I—are you okay—”
“I’m fine. Help him.” He’s hesitant to leave me.
“Christopher,” he calls his name, searching for the entry point. When he lifts back his dress shirt, Christopher groans, finally showing signs of life. “This is going to hurt, but I need to put pressure on it.” Ben pulls back, ripping off his shirt and placing it against his wound. “There’s an exit hole, so that’s a good sign. Christopher, stay with me.”
Blood gushes from his abdomen. I shake my head as tears pour down my face. Christopher’s pale. He’s gone still again. How could she do this? I look over at her, my next breath lodging in my throat. “Ben, she’s gone.”
He cocks his head toward where he left Rebecca. “Fuck. We gotta hurry.” He applies more pressure, and Christopher coughs, then howls. “Mak. . . I have to call for help. You need to place your hands over my shirt and press down.”
I nod and lean forward, the stabbing in my side excruciating. I cry out as the pain comes flooding back.
“Fuck, you said you weren’t hurt!” he spits out, panic leeching the color from his face.
