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I watch as Tank finally gets through and nails him hard with a punch to the jaw that has Baxter’s head flying backward, a sickening crunch sounding throughout my living room. The blow looks as though it should have knocked him out, or at least slowed him down, but it’s as though he doesn’t even notice it.

They continue on, and I watch with fear as tears fall from my eyes. When will this stop?

My husband’s pained curse has my eyes widening, focusing harder as Baxter lets out a wicked laugh. My eyes roam over Tank’s body, but I don’t understand what caused his cry until his body goes limp and he falls to the side clutching his stomach, blood seeping between his fingers.

“NO,” I scream.

It’s then I notice the knife in Baxter’s hand and the evil smirk plastered across his face as he attempts to get to his feet.

My eyes flick back to my husband bleeding out on our living room floor, the greatest fear in his dark eyes. “Run,” he yells, but I can’t move. I can’t fucking breathe.

Baxter begins to stalk me, but my feet remain glued to the floor. Anger burns in Tank’s eyes, but surely he must know that I won’t ever leave without him. He’s all I have left of my heart. I could never turn my back on him.

Baxter takes another step toward me, the knife held steady in his hand as Tank’s blood drips from the sharp blade. “I warned you, Sophie,” he says before pointing at Tank, who watches on in fear. “Now look what you’ve done.”

“Stop,” I demand as I point the gun more firmly at his chest.

Baxter smirks at me as though I’m some misbehaved child playing with something I shouldn’t be touching, yet somehow, that’s exactly how I feel. He continues stalking me with the blood-stained knife, almost daring me to pull the trigger. “You won’t do it,” he practically laughs. “Look at you, you’re pathetic. You couldn’t save your kid, and now because of you, your husband is going to bleed out on the floor. Even with a gun in your hand, you can’t save yourself. You don’t have the guts. You’re weak, Sophie.”

I take a hesitant step backward as I begin to question myself. I don’t want to pull the trigger, but I have no choice. It’s either me or him, and I can guarantee that if he’s the survivor in this situation, he won’t be saving my husband.

He spins the knife in his hand and the blade catches in the light, displaying just how deadly the weapon truly is as blood spatters across the room. He takes another step, making my stomach clench in fear. “I’m going to finish you, Sophie Meyers. Just like I should have done the first time,”

Tears continue rolling down my face as the nausea hits. This fucker is going to kill me. I back up another step and he follows me, matching my strides like we’re in a wicked dance. I see the moment he makes the decision, pure lethalness in his dark eyes.

In a split second, his arm winds back and his knees bend, ready to strike. “NOW, SOPHIE,” Tank roars from across the room, using whatever ounce of energy he has left.

I don’t hesitate.

The gun rings out and echoes through my head, my arm flinging back with the recoil, pain blasting through my shoulder. Baxter drops to the ground as my ears scream in protest, and I watch with wide eyes as he latches onto his chest, letting out an agonized groan.

He doesn’t move, and as he starts gasping for air with blood seeping out onto his shirt, I realize I must have punctured a lung.

Without a second of hesitation, my gaze flicks toward Tank across the room, and my feet are already moving before I’ve even finished taking him in. “No, no, no, no,” I chant, racing toward his limp body, the life draining out of him as the blood pools beneath him.

I drop down at Tank’s side and the gun clatters to the floor beside me, my hands violently shaking as I press them to Tank’s wound, attempting to stop the bleeding. Panic tears at my chest as the blood seeps through my fingers like an endless stream, unable to be controlled.

I’m going to lose him.

The front door is kicked in and I hear someone call out “Police,” but I ignore their advances as Tank’s eyes begin to close. “No,” I cry. “Stay with me. I can’t do this without you.”

Sobs begin ripping up my throat as Detective Andrews drops down beside me and places a hand on my shoulder. “Sophie. Let me take over,” he demands.

“Where’s the ambulance? I need an ambulance!” I yell.

Someone grabs me and moves me out of the way so the police can start first aid, but I don’t let them take me far as I hold onto Tank’s motionless body. “Don’t you dare leave me, Tank,” I demand as the sobs completely take over. “Open your eyes. Please, open your eyes.”

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