Page 34 of Savior

Luca crooks a finger, beckoning me forward.

My heart drops.

I don’t want to go to him, yet I’m drawn. Pulled. My feet creep closer of their own accord, then I’m crouching, succumbing to his silent command.

“Penny,” Luther growls. “What are you doing?”

“His pulse… I-I’m checking his pulse.”

What I’m really doing is staring into the eyes of the man who has fractured me. The one who fills me with relief because he’s still alive. But there’s no justification for my celebration, not when I’m responsible for his injuries, and his upcoming death.

“I’m sorry.” I break our visual connection in an attempt to sever my guilt and focus on the lengthy gash along the side of his head, the oozing blood matting his hair. I’m about to reach out, to sweep the strands away to inspect his wound when Cole curses, the violent outburst from the other side of my hiding place enough to make me retreat.

“Get his weapon,” Luther demands of me. “Then unlock the door and hand it to Chris.”

“Don’t do it,” Cole snarls. “Don’t fucking do it, Penny.”

My heart sinks as I glance to my left and find Luca’s gun on the tile a few feet away.

There’s no choice. With Luther armed and Chris waiting outside, evil has already prevailed.

Gentle fingers brush my wrist, stealing my attention. My focus. I meet Luca’s gaze. I see the struggle to fight etched in his features—the tight lips, the drawn brows.

“Don’t,” he mouths, begging me with his eyes. “Don’t do it.”

For once, I want to please him. A criminal. Aman.I’d give anything to grant his wish. Instead, I paste on a regretful smile, hoping he understands the apology that comes with it.

I should’ve told him what was happening when we were alone in the bedroom. I should’ve let down my guard and believed his promises. Then this situation might have ended differently.

But the bad guys always win.

“She does what she’s told,” Luther seethes. “Otherwise she knows the consequences.”

I straighten, hearing the threat loud and clear.

“What’s to stop her shooting you?” Cole asks.

“She could try. But she’d be dead before she had time to aim. And then I’d kill all her friends just to spite her.”

That’swhy I have no choice.That’swhy I have to take Luca’s gun.

I reach for the weapon a few feet away, my fingers tingling as my palm slides over the blood-slicked exterior. It’s a strange sensation—touching a gun for the first time. The slightest ebb of power flows through me as I grip the cold metal in both hands.

If only I could shoot Luther. If I had the experience and skills to risk everything on a quick draw, I would.

Luca’s hand reclaims my wrist, the fingers trailing slowly over my skin. “Give it here,” he mouths.

I want to. I want nothing more than to let him continue to be the savior he promised to be. I just can’t. I won’t place my life in the hands of a stranger. Nor the lives of the women waiting for my return. Not when he’s possible heartbeats away from death.

“I’m sorry.” My lips form the silent words as remorse slaughters me from the inside out. “I’ve got the gun,” I announce to the room and stand.

I forget about the man at my feet. I shut out the guilt and shame.

“Keep it,” Cole slurs. “Don’t give it to Chris.”

“Don’t even think about it.” Luther jabs his son in the shoulder with his gun as if sensing an act of retaliation. “You’re predictable. Always have been.”

“Too bad you’ve already admitted you won’t kill me, old man.”

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