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I’m unsteady as I rise to my feet. A stabbing pain on my side grips me. Feeling dizzy, I stumble back, almost tripping over something behind me.
No. Not something. Someone.
I look down at the lifeless grey eyes of Saint’s grandfather staring up at me. The world around me fades into a silent echo as the gravity of what’s happening comes crashing down.
Oh god, please…No. No.
With desperation clawing at my chest, I pound my interlocked fingers on his torso, not making it past three compressions before someone’s hands wrap around my middle, dragging me away from his lifeless body.
“Lexy, we need to go,” the voice yelled, urgency punctuating each word. The hands that held me were firm, their grip unyielding as they tugged at my painful side. Jordin’s voice reaches my ears, her tear-streaked face a mirror of my pain. Her cold hands cupped my cheeks, her tears mingling with my own.
“He’s gone, Lexy. There is nothing you can do for him,” Jordin’s voice quivered her words, a painful admission of our new reality. “We need to get the hell out of here.”
With frantic eyes, I search the room but can’t find my mom anywhere. The room is choked with thick smoke, making it hard to see. Hard to breathe.
“I…I…need to find my mom. I can’t find my mom,” I cry after a fit of coughing.
Her arms squeeze me in a protective embrace. “She’s probably made it out. The buildings on fire, Lexy. We need to go now. Follow me, and no matter what happens, you stay low.”
I manage a nod, my body trembling from shock and grief. Numbness had settled over me, protecting me from the searing pain in my side.
“No matter what happens, don’t let go of my hand,” Jordin urges, her resolve unshaken.
My eyes widen as my mind races, trying to make sense of all this.
How could this have happened? Who would do this and why?
“Are you with me?” she demands, calling me back to the present, her grip on my hand a lifeline.
Mustering a nod, my entire body quivers with fear.
“We go on three, alright?”
“K.”
“Ready? One. Two. Three.”
She squeezes my hand tight, and we quickly crawl along the perimeter of the room, hidden behind overturned furniture and anything else we can find to avoid stray bullets as the gunfight continues around us. The room’s towering arched windows, once adorned with intricate stained glass, littered the once pristine floor, glint dangerously in the flickering remnants of chandeliers that swung precariously from the ornate ceiling, casting eerie, disjointed shadows that danced along the walls.
Saint. Where’s Saint?
My eyes dart in the direction of where I last saw him. My heart is hammering when I spot him through the smoke with Caleb and Colton by his side, fighting back against the armed men. Despite the danger, they stand, maneuvering their guns skillfully, taking down several assailants with precise shots.
Thank God they’re all unhurt.
My heart swells with both pride and worry.
“Over there, look.” Jordin’s desperate voice pulls me away, and I turn to see an exit sign. She continues, “It’s clear. Let’s go.”
I glance back at Saint.
I want to go with her, I do. I don’t want to die. But there’s no fucking way I’m leaving without him.
“You need to go without me, Jordin. I can’t leave him,” I declare, my voice filled with determination. “He’s all I have left. You both are,” I cry. Just as the words leave my mouth, he turns to me. Unlike anything I’ve ever seen, a look of anger crosses his face.
My heart stops when he points his gun directly at me. A bullet leaves the chamber, missing me by an inch and hitting a man behind us.
The scream isn’t mine when the man hits the ground. It’s Jordin’s.
