AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Conor drops to the floor, and my eyes settle on my mom. She’s pale, her mouth agape as she stares back at me. For a millisecond, I stupidly believe everything is okay, until my eyes drop to the rapidly growing red patch expanding along the front of my mom’s top.
“Mom,” I croak as her knees give out and she crashes to the floor. “Mom!”
Running to her side, I crouch beside her and pull her head into my lap. I press my hands against her stomach, but there’s so much blood. It’s everywhere. Soaking through her top, slipping through my fingers, puddling on the floor.
“Mom.” My voice breaks as I watch her face leach of color. Her eyes are clouding over already, as her life force spills out onto the floor and over my hands.
“Run, baby girl,” my mother rasps, her words barely audible. “Run.”
“I’m not leaving you,” I sob as I hunch over her, stroking her hair.
“There’s nothing you can do for me. Save yourself.” She glances toward Conor’s unconscious body. He won’t be out for long, yet I can’t bring myself to walk away from my mom.
“Go.” With what little strength she has left, my mom pushes at my shoulder. “Be free. Be safe. Be happy. I love you.”
Tears course down my face in a never-ending stream. “I love you too, Mom.”
As her eyes close, I push to my feet, swiping away the tears. I watch the shallow rise and fall of her chest for a moment longer while I say my silent goodbyes. I can’t believe this is what it has come down to. Every time I feel like things can’t get any worse, they do.
My gaze slides to Conor as hatred swallows my grief and molds it into a weapon—a steel sword, sharp and deadly. Spotting the gun lying on the floor nearby, I grab it and point it at him. My hand trembles as I rest my finger against the trigger. One small pull of a muscle and it would all be over.
Except, it wouldn’t. Conor would be dead, sure, but I know now that this isn’t just about him. His death would be investigated, and his family would want retribution—and not the legal system kind.
Nonetheless, and most importantly, I’m not Conor. I can’t kill in cold blood, regardless of what he’s done to my family and me.
Lowering the gun, I keep it firmly grasped in my hand as I grab my mom’s purse and car keys. Refusing to look back or dwell on the grief tearing through me like a bullet, I walk out of the house and climb into my mom’s car.
I have no idea where I’m going or how I’ll survive, but I will. I won't let my mom's sacrifice be in vain.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Six Months Later
I twirl a lock of my bleached blonde hair around my finger as I stare out my windshield at the Giant Sequoia and California Redwood trees lining the side of the narrow mountainside road. My hair has been all shades of the rainbow over the course of the last six months, and now I barely remember how I looked with my natural hair color.
I’ve been all over the map, getting lost in large cities and hiding out in podunk towns as I slowly, painstakingly, make my way across the country; fully determined to put as many miles between Boston and me as possible. I don’t know how vast the O’Shea reach is, though I’m hoping it doesn’t extend as far as the West Coast.
Being on the run is exhausting. It’s not living; just purely survival. However, despite how tired I am, I’ll keep doing it, because it’s what my mom deserves. Even now, all these months later, my heart still hurts at her loss. So many times, I’ve picked up the phone, wanting to call her. And every time, I fall apart, realizing I’ll never speak to her again.
As I pass a sign that says ‘Welcome to Crescentwood’ I pull my thoughts out of the past. The present is what I need to be focused on. Figuring out where I’m going to sleep tonight, or how I will afford food. I’ve been on the road for two days straight, and the measly savings I scraped together from the cash-in-hand diner job I had at the last place I stopped is quickly dwindling.
I slow the car as towering trees give way to imposing steel gates and impressive mansions. Clearly, the people who live in this part of the world have money. As I continue to drive, a town begins to unfold, and I pull over to the side of the road when I arrive at a quaint square in the center of town. Cutesy shops and busy cafes line the street, and there is a large green area with a gazebo and children playing. It’s all very picturesque. A world away from the dangerous one I’ve been living in these past few months.
For the first time in a long while, I feel peaceful as I sit in my car and watch women in heels carry large shopping bags down the street, nanny’s corralling kids, and men in suits talking into their phones.
I can picture myself here. Maybe I could open my own small store and rent an apartment in town. Actually put down some roots and call a place home. If I’m extremely lucky, maybe I could find my own slice of happiness here.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
One Year Later
“That her?” my brother asks, tilting his chin as he stares out the front windshield.
Following his line of sight, I watch as a young woman, with shoulder-length blonde hair, steps out of the shop, turning to lock the front door behind her.
“Aye, that’s her,” I confirm when she glances in our direction, her eyes skimming over our car as she searches the street.
My eyes roam over her petite frame as she saunters down the street in the opposite direction to where we’re parked. Her hips sway, her jeans molded perfectly to her ass, drawing my gaze to her round globes.
