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He’s right. This isn’t me. I haven’t got it in me to actually kill someone, no matter how much they deserve it.
Squealer kisses the top of my head. “I gotcha, darlin’,” he whispers, keeping his gun on Hawker as he tucks my gun into the back of his pants. He shifts me behind him protectively before turning his attention to Hawker.
“I got someone who’s got a score to settle with you,” Squealer tells him, sounding sinister. “And I’ll guarantee you that by the time he’s finished, you’ll be wishing I’d let her shoot you.” The gun in his hand fires off, and Hawker yells in agony as the bullet catches him in the knee, and he falls back to the ground, clutching his injury. Squealer sets off another into the opposite leg, causing Hawker to howl in pain.
I rush to Abby and wipe the hair from her face, she’s unresponsive, and her head falls back lifelessly. “Abby.” I tap her cheek and shake her shoulders but get no response.
“Squealer, call an ambulance,” I scream while I slap her face and try to bring her round. Her chest isn’t moving, she’s not breathing, and I frantically try to untie her from the chair so I can start CPR.
Squealer helps by pulling a knife from his belt and sawing it through the ropes that bind her to the chair. When Abby is finally free, Squealer lies her on her back, and I start pumping hard at her chest, willing for her to breathe.
“You should know I shot her up with quite a heavy dose.” I try to ignore Hawker's taunts. Squealer taking out his knee caps has assured me he’s going nowhere in a hurry, and I have to focus on bringing Abby back.
“Alex,” Squealer rests his hand on my shoulder. “She’s got no pulse.” He doesn’t look worried, he looks sad, like he’s already accepted that she’s gone.
I keep on pumping at her ribs, ignoring the tears that are blurring my vision, and the pressure in my own chest. I can’t lose her, I promised Danny I’d see she was alright.
“Alex, she’s gone.”
“No, she’s not.” I focus on counting in my head, it doesn't matter that my arms are about to give in. Abby can’t die, not after all she’s been through.
“Alex…”
“She’s gonna be okay,” I scream through my tears, and he places his fingers against her neck then lifts up her eyelids like he’s some kind of fuckin’ doctor.
“You gotta stop, she’s dead.” He shakes his head at me.
“I can bring her back.” I shake my head defiantly, pushing so hard into her fragile body that I feel one of her ribs pop under the heel of my palm.
“Baby, she’s gone.” Squealer grabs me in his arms and pulls me off her. I see it now, the paleness of her skin, the blue around her lips, she’s too still. And he holds me so tight while I slap his chest, all the frustration in me weakening into the ache of realization.
“She can’t be gone,” I cry, grabbing his shirt and sobbing into him.
“You did everything you could,” Squealer whispers into my hair.
“Except for keeping her alive,” Hawker chuckles at me. “Jesus, you're as useless as your corrupt baby brother was.” I feel something flick on inside me, an uncontrollable form of rage that I’ve never experienced the strength of before.
I’m thinking about Danny and Abby when I slide my hand into the back of Squealer’s jeans and grip the gun. I’m thinking about the life they could have had together as I quickly turn my body and fire at him.
Years of spending my days off at the gun range pay off when I catch him first time in the chest. But one bullet isn’t enough. I fire another one, and then another, round after round until the gun is out of bullets and Hawker’s voice stops screaming in my head.
I stand and look at the mess in front of me. The concrete and containers around us sprayed with his blood and brains. I feel him on my skin, can taste him on my lips, and the gun shakes in my hand until Squealer takes it.
“Shit.” He pulls me back onto him. I try to catch my breath back and pull myself together, but I don’t feel bad for what I just did. It was a rash reaction, that’s done nothing to take away the pain in my heart, but it has taken away all the anger.
Squealer holds me tight as he pulls his cell from his pocket and dials a number.
“Grimm, I need you, man, we got a code-dead situation,” then his eyes widen when the sound of sirens ring out in the distance.
“Scrap that. You and the guys stay away from the address Maddy sent you. We got unwanted company.” He hangs up the phone and pulls away from me, pacing like he’s trying to come up with something fast.
“Did you call the ambulance?” I ask.
“She was dead before you started,” he shakes his head, turning pale, as both of us look down to Hawker's body and the phone that's fallen out of his lifeless hand.
“Mother fucker.” Squealer kicks the phone across the floor in anger. “He knew the club was gonna make him suffer, so he called the cops while we were distracted.”
“What are we gonna do?” I can feel myself panicking. This isn’t a self-defense clean shot, it’s a fucking massacre.
