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I’ve never stared at the end of a muzzle before. It’s paralyzing—your brain doesn’t know if it should beg or scream. So I do neither and look past the muzzle, locking eyes with Crosby.
His stare hollows my soul. He murdered everyone at Harlow Sanctum, potentially those before us too.
Liam stands behind Crosby, a rock the size of my head in his hand. He cries out as he brings the rock down. Everything slows, like a movie, except I’m watching from the worst seat in the theater.
The rock cracks against Crosby’s skull so hard that the sound reverberates in my chest, so loud my ears hurt.
I watch Crosby’s eyes roll to the back of his head and he falls to his side. Liam crawls to me, groaning painfully with each breath. He collapses next to me and tears stream down his face.
“I thought… I’d never… never s-see you again,” I rasp. I flinch and knit my brows at the deep, harrowing pain that throbs in my chest. Something’s wrong.
Why am I wet? It’s warm.
Liam’s eyes are calm and reassuring. He presses his hand down on my chest and it hurts. I try to squirm beneath the weight he’s administering there but he holds firm.
“I love you, Wynn. I’m so sorry—sorry for everything.” He coughs and blood coats his shoulder from the spray.
My eyes widen; he’s hurt worse than I thought. “Liam—ahh,it… it hurts.”It’s getting colder.
“Listen to me, Wynn. You need to stay awake, baby. Can you do that for me?”
“Huh?” I mutter. It’s becoming hard to focus. I’m dizzy and cold. “I’m so c-cold, Liam. Why… am I s-so cold?”
I’m so tired and… it hurts. I’m hurt.
“It hurts,” I cry.
“Shhh… It’s okay, Wynn. We’re okay. I love you so much—please hold on. It’s okay, baby. We’re going to make it. All three of us are going to make it. You, me, and Lanston, remember? I promise nothing’s going to happen. I love you—”
43
Lanston
She ranoff without telling me. Of course she did.
My chest heaves as I reach the top of the lookout. Those steps are way too steep for anyone’s good. Well, there’s my Mercedes…
Pop.
My head jerks toward the hill. A gunshot?!
I sprint up the hill and see three bodies lying in the golden field.
Oh God. No.
I reach them in a matter of seconds. A gun and a bloody rock are on the ground. Crosby looks either dead or knocked out cold. His head is bashed in, covered in blood.
That’s when I see them.
They lie still, holding each other like only death could possibly tear them apart. Their eyes are closed and tears and blood mix on their faces.
There’s a bullet hole in Wynn’s chest. Two in Liam’s.
Panic surges through me but I have to keep my head. Everything I do right now matters. Every second counts.
I pull out my phone and call the police, telling them where we are and who the culprit is, all on speaker as I go into survival mode. I tear Liam’s shirt open and examine where the bullets are. They’ve missed his heart and aorta. Relief floods me as I dip down and hear his breaths.
I move to Wynn.
