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36
Izzy
Anarchy
The sound of canon fire explodes in the room and sends my heart skittering with each earth-shattering pop.
Boom. Boom.
Two shots.
So much blood.
People rush the room and send my world tilting on its axis. Noise. Glass. Lights. Screaming. Crying. Chaos and blood.
So much fucking blood.
“Put your weapon down!” Police crowd the room and send me sprawling. Another policeman dives onto Jimmy and Ben. Another throws Lindsi against the wall. A gun skitters across the tiles. Like waves on the rocks, I’m swayed forward, then back, then forward.
Ben lies on an unmoving Jim.
Climbing to my feet and tripping forward, I move toward Jim.
So still.
Not moving.
“Jim?” My movements are slow and jerky, my knees buckle every second step.
No answer.
“Jim?”
Hands attempt to wrap around my waist, but I slap them away and keep hobbling toward the two still men and the hundred cops.
“Jimmy!”
“Clear the room!”
Someone grabs me again, hooking me around the waist and dragging me away. “Jimmy! Wake up, baby. Wake up.” I scream, because he looks asleep.
But worse.
Way worse.
He looks asleep, but he’s white except for the red of the blood. So much blood.
So much blood everywhere.
Medics rush him and Ben. They shield them from my view, and when strong arms snake around my waist, I scratch and kick at my captor.
“Take her outside. Clear the room!”
“No pulse!”
“No!” I scream at the grabbing hands. “No.” Dark blood pools and slithers under feet and snakes along the tile away from Jimmy.
Jimmy’s bleeding.
