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I barely hear the crunch of metal against skull as a deafening shot sounds out in the small café. The ringing in my ears from the shot is quickly followed by the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears. Andrea jerks back at the impact and blood blossoms on her shoulder. The sight makes me sick to my stomach.
I jump over Christopher, who lies wailing on the floor, and I dart behind the counter to kneel beside my sister. Charlie the redhead is right beside me in a flash, and I look over at her quickly. I’m still unable to wrap my head around what she just did.
There’s a commotion going on behind us, with Jack and Irene going after Christopher. Andrea will never forgive us if we let him get away. Charlie hands me towels to put pressure on the wound, and all I can think is that I’ve failed her yet again…
“What the hell were you thinking?!”
I crowd the pretty but fiery redhead in the hospital hallway. We’re in a quiet corner down the hall from where they took Andrea from the emergency room. We’ve been here for hours, and everyone’s nerves are frayed. She has her back against the dull tan walls. I’m turned towards her with one hand on the wall to her right.
She straightens with my question, and that fierce determination I’ve come to realize runs through her veins makes an appearance. My dick twitches with that one look at her face. I blink, confused and fucking annoyed my body is reacting to her. I shift uncomfortably, telling my dick this isn’t the time, and this sure as hell isn’t the woman.
“What was I thinking? I was thinking about saving my best friend!” She has the audacity to poke me in my chest.
I take a step closer to her, close enough to breathe in her sweet lilac scent as I crowd her in the small space.
“You could have gotten yourself killed!” I growl out.
All she does is simply shrug her shoulders, like she doesn’t have a care in the world. My jaw twitches from the surge of anger towards her. This woman must have a death wish. Not to mention, had the bullet hit Andrea any lower, there would have been a very different outcome.
Her cheeks turn red as she shakes her head at me. “I did what I could to save my closest and dearest friend. I wasn’t going to stand there and just do nothing,” she seethes.
“Is that what you think I was doing? What Jack and Irene were doing? Nothing?”
My anger wildly pumps through my veins. Who the hell does this woman think she is! We had a solid plan, one with safeguards everywhere. Do I feel incredibly guilty that my sister is in a hospital bed with a gunshot to her shoulder when we promised she would be safe? Yes, immensely so.
Which is part of why my anger is so unchecked.
This is my fault, like it always is. If I’d just made different choices, we wouldn’t be here at all. Andrea would be safe. She would be whole, and she’d be fucking happy. I hate myself for that. I hate that I’m the reason she isn’t any of those things.
She seems taken aback by my questions as she blinks rapidly, and her eyes fill with unshed tears. She finally whispers out a broken, “No,” as she wipes at her tears, and my anger instantly deflates at the sight of her trying to hold it together.
I clear my throat and take a step back from her. She doesn’t deserve my wrath because it has nothing to do with her and everything to do with me and how much of a fuck up I am. I tuck my hands into my pockets and lift my shoulders in defeat.
I nervously rub at the back of my neck. I know I need to apologize for how abrasive I am. She’s Andrea’s best friend and the woman who saved my baby sister’s life. At the very least, for that alone, I owe her a thank you.
“Look, I’m—”
She steps forward and puts her hand on my forearm. A look of determination covers her delicate and breathtaking features. God, she’s fucking pretty.
“I’m sorry you’re hurting. I’m sorry Andrea got shot.” She chokes up a bit when she says the word shot, but continues after clearing her throat quickly. “But Andrew Shaw, I will never apologize for being there for her, and I sure as hell won’t be made to feel guilty about it, either.”
She releases my arm to walk down the hallway, leaving me speechless as I watch her hips sway. Her words leave a huge knot in my throat and a sinking feeling in my gut.
This woman may just be the death of me.
Beep, beep, beep.
The incessant noise won’t let me sleep, and that’s all I want to do. Everything fucking hurts, and I can’t move. What’s wrong with me? The question comes and goes quickly as my mind continues to walk me through one thing after another, torturing me instead of letting me rest. Though I can’t be upset when all I see is a beautiful, sassy redhead. One who likes to give me hell.
My phone dings as it receives another message, and I groan and shake my head. I know exactly who it is before I pick it up. What I don’t know is what she’ll say next.
Charlie: Andrew, are my meat babies cooking perfectly?
I shake my head at how ridiculous she sounds. I actually laugh out loud. Meat babies?
Me: I have no idea what you’re talking about. There are no meat babies here. Whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean.
I chuckle again. This woman just might be a tad bit crazy. Scratch that, it’s more than a tad.
