view, standing a few feet away from me, with his gun raised. In that moment, I can’t move fast enough to stop whatever is going to happen from happening, and I hear the gunshot before I feel any pain radiate from my stomach.
I grit my teeth, thinking of only Violet in this moment. If I die, she’s as good as dead…
Don’t let her down. Don’t let her fucking down.
With my gun already raised, I point it at him and pull the trigger before he can fire another bullet into me. The side of his head explodes, blood and brain matter splattering against the pristine white kitchen, the same kitchen I shared breakfast with Violet in this morning. I hold a hand to my stomach and watch as his heavy body falls to the floor with a loud thud.
I look down at the wound and find my shirt is already soaked with blood. Fuck! I can feel the last bit of adrenaline draining out of me with every drop of blood that soaks my shirt.
Staggering backward, I grip onto the edge of the kitchen island and brace my body against it. That’s when I hear it. Someone moving on the floor across the kitchen. My gaze swings frantically around the room, but it’s to fucking late.
I’ve failed her…
I spot Luca, who has his gun raised at me, his face filled with pure rage, his finger on the trigger, a sinister grin pulling at his evil fucking lips.
“I’m going to enjoy fucking your bitch before I kill her. I’ll make sure it hurts, too, then I’ll plunge a knife into her heart for safe measure.”
I raise my gun, my arm shaking, my hand sweaty, making the gun slip in my palm. I know I don’t have a chance in hell but I’m not going out until every drop of blood leaves my body, until my lungs stop fucking sucking in air and my heart stops beating.
The sound of a gun being fired meets my ears, and I close my eyes, wishing I could have been better, better for Mira… better for Violet. I failed everyone I’ve ever loved and now I’m going to spend eternity in hell, wishing I was a better man for both of them.
17
Violet
I rush over to where Ivan is leaning against the kitchen island. There’s so much blood... It’s dripping from a bullet hole in his stomach, soaking through the white cotton of his shirt. “Ivan,” I beg him, my voice meek and quiet. I gaze down at the wound, afraid to even touch him… touch it.
“Ivan, please open your eyes.” When he doesn’t respond, I talk a little louder. “Damnit, do not die on me right now.” I can’t lose him, I just can’t bear to lose him. We just got free, our life together is just beginning. It’s not supposed to end now. We had hardly any time together. We haven’t had enough time yet. Please, open your eyes.
As if he can hear my silent prayer, his eyes open. His gray eyes melt into mine with a look of shock.
“I shot him,” I say quietly, the gun still heavy in my hand. “I shot Luca… I think I killed him.” My eyes keep returning to his wound.
Blood… I can’t unsee the things that I’ve seen. I can’t undo the things I’ve done now. My eyes move back to Ivan.
“Oh, my god, we need to get you to a hospital. You’re bleeding; there’s blood everywhere.” I’m panicking, the thought of possibly losing him all I can think about.
“No! No hospital,” he groans. “They’ll call… the cops.”
“Ivan, you’re bleeding out… and there is no way in hell I’m going to let you die because you don’t want to go to the hospital.”
“Just… get me… to the car.”
Worry consumes me as I listen to how hard it is for him to talk. I wrap my arm around his midsection as he puts one arm around my shoulders. Using me as a crutch, he manages to walk to the garage. With every step we take, his breathing becomes more labored, and it gets harder for him to take another step.
“Almost… we are almost to the car,” I exclaim. It gets harder for me to hold him up straight, and he slouches against my body more and more as we get closer to the car. Shit, he is heavy. When we finally reach the side of the car, I lean him against it, while I open the door and help him