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Let his whole focus be on me. Maybe that way she’ll manage to get away. Get to safety.
I just need her to be safe.
“Please, Bobby. Let her go. This isn’t her fault. She’s innocent in all of this. Please, I beg you, let her go,” I say slowly, making sure to enunciate every single word carefully.
That twisted smile widens, and a shudder runs through me at the malice shining on his face. How did I not see it until now? Or was it Christian’s death that changed him so much? Did the pain of losing his brother make him into this sick, twisted man standing in front of me?
“I beg you, Bobby.” My gaze falls down on the hand gripping Penelope as I hold my breath. Tears are streaming down her face as she shakes her head, and it pains me to see her that way. “Plea—”
I don’t get to finish because everything happens so quickly. I don’t see it coming. Penelope breaks out of his hold so fast she almost falls face first, but somehow she manages to stay upright. Her eyes are wide as she blindly moves forward.
“Penelope!” I yell, hoping she’ll hear me through the commotion of screaming people trying to get out as I push to my feet.
Get to her.
Get to her.
Get to her.
I chant those three words on repeat as I run to her. The distance between us seems impossibly big at this moment. Just a few more yards. I extend my hand, needing to touch her and pull her to me just when I see a flash of silver behind her back.
My heart plummets when I see Bobby’s face twist in anger. He lifts his hand, the one holding the gun, and extends it toward Penelope.
Fuck.
There’s a loudbangjust as she’s within arm’s reach.
I jump toward her.
She needs to be okay. I didn’t even get a chance to tell her I love her. I should have told her how I felt. I should have done so many things differently, and now we might not get that chance.
Anotherbangfollows as we fall to the ground. I try to wrap my arms around Penelope and take the brunt of the impact, but we’re on the ground before I can blink. All the air is kicked out of my lungs as we collapse on the stage. My whole body feels heavy, as if all the bones in my body have been rearranged. The echo of the shots still rings in my head, along with the blood pumping through my veins, making it hard to think.
“Penelope?” I groan loudly. A blinding pain slashes through me, but I bite the inside of my cheek and push upright so I can get a better look at her.
Her hair is a mess, her face pale, but her eyelashes are fluttering open. “B-Bash?”
“I’m here.” I cup her cheek with one palm, needing to touch her. Needing to reassure myself that she’s okay. “I’m here. I’ve gotcha.”
“Bash!” She throws her arms around my shoulders, holding me so tight I can’t breathe. Not that I’m going to tell her that. Fuck the air. I just need her.
“Oh, my God!” She pulls back, her hands sliding over my shoulders and onto my pecs. Her face is blurry, and I can feel my muscles stiffen, my body growing heavy. “I was so worried, I…” She sucks in a breath, pulling her hands back. “W-what?”
I look at her palms, blinking a few times to clear my vision, as I try to figure out what upset her when I see it.
The blood on her hands.
I blink some more, thinking I’m imagining it, but the red still clings to her pale skin.
I look down and notice the hole in the leather vest, the blood sliding down my naked chest.
“You’ve been shot.”
Once again, she reaches for me, trying to find the source of the wound.
“It’s fine, just a scrat—Fuck!”
This time when her palm presses against my shoulder, the burning pain spreads through my body, making my whole frame quake and black spots appear in my vision.
