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“How could you do it?” I ask, feeling clammy, sweat beading on my forehead. “How could you kill Emily?”
“You know she killed herself,” Rich argues, desperation in his voice. I move forward, leg almost numb from the pain now. “Don’t forget who cared for you all those years …”
“And now you’re trying to kill someone we care about,” I say, taking another painful step forward. Fury burns cold in my chest, ice in my veins. “How long have you been lying to us? How long have you been manipulating us?” I demand, wanting answers.
“You have to believe me, I only ever wanted what was best for you,” Rich says, holding his hands up. “You’re delirious from the pain, Dominic. You need to stop before you hurt yourself worse.”
“Shut up!” I spit out. “Just stop talking!” I can’t take it anymore, so I tackle him to the ground, needing to finally get the gun away from him.
Items start falling around us as we tangle on the floor, bumping into chairs and tables, knocking over framed photos and knickknacks, leaving a trail of destruction in our wake. We roll through glass shards that slice up my skin and as I wince, Rich takes the opportunity to smack me in the face with the butt of the weapon.
"Dammit, Dominic, do something!" Bastian barks, frustration seeping into his voice as he watches the chaos unfold. He scans back and forth between us and Sienna, torn between the desire to protect her and the dangers of escalating the situation.
Rich raises the gun again and Bastian moves, lunging for him. Rich snarls, his grip tightening on the weapon as he struggles to maintain control, the three of us locked in a deadlydance of wills. Each moment feels like an eternity as it ticks past, the room echoing with grunts and strained breaths.
There's a deafening bang as the gun goes off, the sound reverberating through the room like a thunderclap. Time seems to stand still as everyone in the room freezes in shock and horror.
Rich slumps over, clutching his chest. Blood seeps out between his fingers and he looks up at us, helplessness in his eyes. The mask seems to slip away, anger and frustration flickering on his face for a moment before he seems to give up, resigning himself to his fate.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs before the light goes out of his eyes.
“No!” I rush forward, bile in my throat as I scramble to reach him before it’s too late. For everything that happened between us, Rich was our father for most of our lives. I can’t let this happen!
I grab at him, shaking him. “Wake up! Dammit, wake up Rich!”
Tears sting my cheeks as the reality of what has just happened sinks in like a stone in the pit of my stomach.
Everything seems to happen at once. Sienna screams out, slumping into Caleb’s arms. Bastian chokes, vomiting onto the floor as he takes in the sight before him. Caleb looks pale, swaying on his feet.
“We have to get out of here,” I say, taking charge and hurrying over to Caleb to put my arms around both him and Sienna to keep them from falling over. “We need to leave like,now.”
Bastian wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and rushes over, scooping Sienna into his arms. Caleb seems to come back to himself, shaking out of his shock. He throws an arm around me, helping me limp out to the car.
Throwing one last look at Emily’s apartment, I sprawl into the backseat of the car, my mind racing. Sienna is safe now, but at what cost?
47
SIENNA
Ilurch awake and for a moment I think I’m still stuck in the trunk of Dr. Thornton’s car, whizzing along as he takes me somewhere secluded to kill me.
Then I realize I’m in the backseat of the Firebird next to Dominic, and Dr. Thornton is dead.
“She’s awake,” Caleb calls out, half-turned in his seat to face me. He’s pale but otherwise looks unharmed.
“What happened?”
“You passed out after the gun went off and killed Rich,” Caleb explains in a shaky voice. “We carried you out to the car. Dominic is losing a lot of blood, so we need to get him looked at as soon as possible.”
I turn to face him and Dominic’s face is drawn, his skin ashy. He looks like he’s on the verge of passing out himself.
“Stay with me,” I whisper urgently, reaching out to grab his hands in mine. His skin feels clammy and icy beneath my fingertips. “C’mon, stay with me,” I urge.
“We can’t take him to a hospital, they’ll ask too many questions,” Bastian says, glancing at us in the rearview mirror. “We need to take him home.”
“I can clean up the wound and sew it up if it’s not too bad,” I tell them. “But we have to hurry.”
“I’m going as fast as I can,” Bastian snaps. He tenses, then forces himself to breathe out. “I’m sorry. I’m just completely fucking shaken up after you got kidnapped for the second time. Why did you go and confront him?”
