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A scuffle broke out as Cam tightened his arm around his father’s neck, the gun pinned out of reach between them.
‘Now,’ I said in a hushed whisper. ‘Go, run, hide. If he over powers us, get away. Find the police and hand yourselves in. Don’t trust anyone outside. They might be with him.’
They didn’t need to be told twice. They were up and running within seconds, lost in the sea of pallet towers.
‘Go,’ Cam roared at me as I froze.
‘You stupid fuck,’ Harold shouted at him as he threw his fists back at Cam over his shoulder. Harold was similarly built than Cam, albeit thicker from years of parties and having his henchmen do the more vigorous work. Could Cam subdue him before he got to the gun?
The gun!
I looked longingly toward the exit before setting my shoulders square and making my decision. Running wasn’t an option. I’d fight by my man to end Harold.
I took the ground between myself and the pallets as quickly as I could. Sliding onto my side and peering underneath. Fuck, it was right in the middle and I couldn’t reach. I stretched my arm, twisting it at the shoulder under the pallet to try to grasp the gun. My fingers grazed the edge of the metal. So close.
A face appeared in the gap at the other end of the pallet. It was Elias. Why the hell was he still there? A broom appeared, sliding under the pallet and shunting the gun toward me. Pure relief washed over me as I pulled it out and turned the safety off.
Cam and Harold were still entangled in a grunting, fist flailing pile. But Harold had his gun in hand, and was trying to point it at Cam.
No.
I wouldn’t lose him.
I loved him, and I wouldn’t let Harold rip someone else I loved from me.
Ignoring the pain ripping through my leg, I crept up behind them, aiming to get Harold isolated to get a clear shot.
Both of them were grunting and swearing, landing elbows, knees, and fists wherever they could. Blood dripped from Cam’s brow and Harold’s nose.
A shot cracked, the noise reverberating through the room as Cam yelped. He went down and my heart went with him.
Blood wetted his trousers, blooming from a hole in his thigh.
Harold trained the gun on Cam’s head, standing over him as he tried to drag himself backwards. My hands trembled as I lifted the gun and aimed it at the back of Harold’s head, praying I didn’t miss.
‘You’ve always been a piece of shit.’ Harold said, spitting a mouthful of blood on the floor as he followed Cam’s retreat, maintaining his aim. ‘I should have made sure they left you to rot when I took the skin off of your back. You were weak then and your weak now. This is your last chance. You choose her or you choose me.’
The trigger dug into my finger as I half squeezed it, taking my aim. I had one shot to really get it right. Nausea swept through me. Could I really shoot him point blank? Movement flickered to my far left, Elias and Grace half hidden in the shadows.
‘I choose her. I love her.’
His words filled me with hope, hope for our future. I pulled the trigger, only to be surprised by another shot ringing out a second before mine.
Harold’s head caved in, blood and bone splintering, brain matter slopping out as he hit the ground. My stomach heaved at the sight before my eyes fell on Cam, recoiling from the second shot from his father’s gun.
He lay sprawled on the ground, a hand cradling his chest as blood darkened his shirt. The room spun as I fled toward him, dropping the gun and throwing myself at his side.
‘Knew you could do it Princess,’ he said, his chest rattling as he inhaled.
‘Shh.’ I pressed my hand against the hole in his chest as he winced. Blood spurted between my fingers, staining my hands red as I applied pressure. Fuck. Fuck! Panic swept through me. My phone had been crushed. I needed an ambulance.
The door opened, and for a moment, I thought it would be Harold’s buyers. Tears came as my brothers burst into the room.
‘Shit,’ Mac said, taking in Harold’s dead body and me crying over my bleeding husband. He whistled low. ‘Well kid, you took out the Thompson’s after all.’
‘Call an ambulance,’ I yelled, fury taking over at their lack of empathy. Cam’s eyes closed as his face drained of colour. He was going to die.
‘It would be less messy to let him join his father,’ Ewen said, standing over Harold’s corpse.
