Page 94 of My Secret to Protect

My blood pumps in my ears, drowning out the sounds of gunfire and fighting outside. I know that I’m on my own in this. I know my dad’s men have their own fight, but this is mine.

I turn to the first door and shoulder slam into it. It swings open with a heavy crash. The room is dark, but I can still make out the stacked boxes and furniture filling the space. I try the next door, and it’s the same thing—boxes and dusty furniture. I turn to leave, and it’s then that I hear her muffled screams coming from the room behind me. My blood boils with rage so much that I practically see red, and I turn, my boot hitting the door with such force that it slams into the wall behind.

I see her immediately, and my heart races to get to her. She’s gagged and tied to a chair, but she shakes her head furiously, and I know she’s telling me not to come in, but that’s not happening.

Advancing quickly, I move to her but don’t make it far before something hits the back of my head, and I stumble forward.

Turning, I see him for the first time, raising up the lamp in his hands to come in for another hit, but I’m not down, and I’m just getting started with this fucker. Rushing him, I tackle him to the floor, my shoulder crunching into his ribs before my fists come down on him again and again. I want to tear him apart. I want to rip his limbs from his body with my bare hands, and I know, in this state, I could do it. I don’t even feel the pain in my knuckles as the skin splits, and my blood mixes with his as I pummel his face into something unrecognizable.

I hear Bree yelling through the fabric in her mouth and somehow manage to stop myself turning this piece of shit into nothing more than a skinsuit so that I can go to her.

‘I’m here, pix.’ I pull the fabric from her mouth, and she cries, hard. ‘I’m here, come on. I got you.’ I glance behind to check he’s still down, he is—his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, his face unrecognizable, so I pull out my penknife and cut the ties around her wrists. ‘You’re okay, baby. You’re okay,’ I say over and over as she sobs.

‘We need to go,’ she says, her voice trembling. ‘Please, Arlo, we have to go.’

‘We’re goin’ pix.’ I pull her up and kiss the top of her head, breathing her in. Adrenaline courses through my veins, my relief that she’s okay burning through them.

The gunfire outside has stopped, I realize, my mind drifting for a moment to my dad, wondering if he’s okay, wondering if the men left out there are going to help us or try to kill us.

My gun is tucked into the waistband of my jeans, and I jerk back as Bree suddenly reaches for it.

‘No.’ she yells, and I turn in time to see Nolan getting up, his gun already in his hand. Time slows down, and I can’t act fast enough.

Bree shoulder barges me out of the way as he fires his gun. She lets loose, firing shot after shot, and I watch as her bullets open up his chest and his throat, his blood spraying the wall behind him

And then she drops to the floor, and I fall to my knees at her side.

‘Pix.’ I cradle her, pulling her to me as her eyes go wide, and she holds her hands over the wound in her stomach. The blood won’t stop, and I press my hands over hers. ‘No, no, Bree. Stay with me,’ I chant the words over and over, and I’m aware of other people rushing into the room, but I can’t tear my gaze away from hers. ‘I love you, Bree. I love you. Stay with me, okay, we did it. We’re free. Just a little while longer, pix, please.’

‘Arlo,’ she sobs my name, the gargle of blood in her throat muffling her voice as it sputters from her lips and then she’s torn from my arms. Somebody pulls me back and turns me away, and before I can protest, my dad grips my head in his hands.

‘Get off of me!’ I rage and try to pull myself away from him. I need to be with her.

‘Let them try and save her, kid,’ he says, holding me steady as I fight against his hold. I glance back to see two men in paramedic uniforms and a woman in dark scrubs tending to Bree before another man runs into the room with a stretcher.

Dropping to the floor, I watch as they kneel, trying to save the woman I love next to the body of the man who terrorized her, kidnapped her, and shot her. I have no idea how they got here, but I don’t care as I cling to my dad and cry. For the first time since I was a little kid, tears pour from my eyes, and my dad pulls me into an embrace.

‘They’ve got her, Arlo,’ he says, his voice soothing in a way I’ve never known it, ‘and I’ve got you.’

So Much Blood

Arlo

Thelightsaretoobright. I wish for the dark to descend so I can’t see the blood all over my hands,herblood.

I can’t bring myself to wash my hands. I don’t have the energy to do anything but sit and stare.

My dad’s large hand slaps down between my shoulder blades, and I think he’s about to say something, but then the sound of hurried footsteps has me raising my gaze to see Mrs. C rushing my way.

‘Arlo,’ she calls out, and I force myself to stand, then immediately wish I hadn’t as she almost skids to a stop, freezing as she takes in my appearance. ‘That’s Bree’s blood?’

She meets my gaze, and I see the hope in her eyes that some of it is mine, his, but I just nod once, and my dad catches her as her knees give way.

‘Michael?’ She uses the name she knew him by as he helps her to a seat, and she takes him in. ‘Why are you here?’

‘It’s a long story, Mrs. C.’

‘Where is Bree?’

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