“It’s over, asshole,” a deep voice growls behind me.
Huh. I guess I did hear something.
I see Beckett coming up beside me, with his own gun pointed at Sebastian.
“You okay, Pres?” Beck gives me a brief once-over.
“Peachy.”
He smirks. “Smartass.”
A feral noise erupts from Sebastian. I look up just in time to see him lunging for Beck like a man with nothing to lose. “You bastard! She’s fucking mine!”
Everything happens so fast. Sebastian and Beckett wrestle for control of the gun in a whirl of grunts and punches. I step back, keeping my Glock aimed at them, but I have no intention of firing unless I have a clear shot. I scream when Beck’s gun goes off, having no idea if anyone was hit. In the next moment, Sebastian leaps on top of me, taking me to the ground. He looks crazed as he attempts to get the gun from me. Stars dance across my vision when the bastard headbutts me. We fight and fumble, both of our hands on the trigger at one point. I refuse to let go; I refuse to give in. One way or the other, this ends now. I will not allow this man to torment me any longer.
Sebastian headbutts me again, and this time, red streams across my vision as blood drips down my face. Whether it’s mine or his, I couldn’t tell you. I cry out as he twists my wrist, trying to turn the barrel toward me. I don’t know if it’s through sheer force of will or pure luck, but I manage to turn it back toward him. He must realize he won’t win because he stops fighting me for it, and instead, wraps his large hands around my throat. My gun is trapped between our bodies as my eyelids flutter. I know I don’t have much longer. When this evil man throws all his strength into choking the life out of me, I know I’ve officially run out of options. I do the only thing I can to survive.
I pull the trigger.
Chapter Forty-Four
Beckett
The first thing I notice upon waking is the incessant beeping. Second is the fact that I hurt like a motherfucker. It takes a moment, but it all comes back to me at once.
“Pres,” I mumble.
“Take it easy, Beckett.” A warm hand squeezes mine. “I’m right here.”
My eyes jolt open at the sound of her voice. Presley is right next to me, looking a little worse for wear, but I’ll take it if she’s able to sit up and talk.
“Are you okay?” I croak. Damn, my throat is dry.
“Am I okay?” Pres chuckles lightly. “Beckett, I’m not the one who was shot.”
Fuck. I can’t believe that asshole shot me.
“How’d I get here?”
“Ambulance.” She lightly runs her finger over the top of my hand, careful to avoid the IV needle sticking out of it. “God, I was so scared when you wouldn’t wake up. You lost a lot of blood, but the doctor said you’ll be okay. The bullet didn’t hit anything major.”
I groan as a sharp pain stabs me in the abdomen. “Is he in police custody?”
I don’t bother mentioning his name. We both know who I’m talking about.
Pres slowly shakes her head. “He’s dead, Beckett. I... shot him. We never have to worry about him again.”
I briefly close my eyes in relief. I hate that Presley knows what it feels like to take a life, but I’m not fucking sorry he’s dead. “Did anyone give you trouble? Colby has to know it was self-defense. Nine-one-one dispatch was on the line listening to the whole thing.”
When Presley called for help, an alert was sent to the sheriff’s office, and Colby immediately contacted me. Colby wanted me to wait for him, but he was at least twenty minutes out, and there was no way I was going to leave her alone with that bastard a second longer than necessary. Thankfully, I was already on my way to her house because I didn’t want to leave our conversation so unsettled.
“He does know.” She nods. “I talked to him earlier.”
“Well, look who’s awake.” A woman, who I’m assuming is my nurse based on the scrubs she’s wearing, walks into the room. “How are you feeling?”
I attempt to answer, but my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. “Thirsty. Could I get some water?”
Presley digs into the bag at her side. “I got it.” She uncaps a water bottle and holds it to my lips.