Page 56 of Fatally Yours
“Desi…” Randy spoke in an almost scolding tone. I wondered if he ever thought he would end up in this situation or if he thought he would be unstoppable for the rest of his life, living out his days guilt-free. The thought made my blood boil, and my anxiety slip away. August smiled and strolled up to her, touching her shoulder. He leaned in, putting his lips beside her ear in a way that almost made me jealous.
“Shoot him,now.” He grabbed her and helped her grip the gun, and her eyes pinched shut, forcing a tear down her pallid cheek. August pushed her arms down, aiming at his leg. I thought my heart was thundering as I watched her finger slip to the trigger.
Everything was in slow motion as I saw her squeeze it, and a shot ripped through the air, making my ears ring. A shrill cry echoed through the home, but much to my shock, it wasn’t from Randy.
XXVII
My heart may have restarted in my chest. My vision blurred as a splash of scarlet blood burst from Randy’s leg, showering the floor below. His grunts and cries were barely masking another sound, though—one that would haunt me even more than August murdering me or all the revenge-fueled crimes we committed.
The piercing shriek of an infant tore through the air as Desi collapsed. Silent tears were streaming down her cheeks, but no noise came from her lips. Only the sound of Randy in pain and the desperate cries of a baby startled by the gunshot were piercing the room.
I looked to August for guidance only because I couldn’t think beyond the overwhelming emotions tearing through my veins. That was why she saiddon’t tell me that, not because she was panicking about what August demanded she do, but because there was a child in his life, in the other room, where weshot someone.
“Is that your baby?” August asked Desi as the gun clattered to the ground. She shook her head, and I felt the irresistible urge to comfort the crying child. It was like a terrible itch, hungry to be scratched and relieved.
“N-no.”
“Whose baby is that?” He turned to Randy with a glare.
“No one’s,” he snarled through the pain, gritting his teeth and attempting poorly to put on a brave face, all while his life fluid oozed from the wound and stained the carpet. Before August could stop me, I ran to the foyer, following the sound while my shaky legs carried me. His voice didn’t follow me, and I thanked God, Satan, the universe, or whoever that he wasn’t demanding I return to him. It was an instinct like no other, and he very well knew it.
I approached the pile, feeling like a massive hand was clasped around my chest, squeezing whatever curse that returned me to life from my body. My worries and panic could’ve returned me to the land of the living. Bending over, I rifled through the pile of bags, finally finding the source of the gut-wrenching sound.
A baby, no older than a few months, was placed in a carrier, the top of her head adorned with a little pink bow. Her mouth was contorted in fear, and I felt my stomach ache at the idea that we had caused her so much distress.
Tears formed in my eyes as I plucked her from the seat, pulling her to my chest as I muttered soft words beneath my breath that only she could hear. Her little jumper was fraying and stained, but I expected nothing less. My throat constricted, thinking about the horrors this small child had or would face in life.
From the other room, I could hear Randy’s terrible growls as I placed my palms over the baby’s ears, all while holding her against my skin. Her roaring cries soon died down to little coos, and I felt the knot in my stomach unfurl as she returned to calm. Still, I held her close, thinking that perhapsshe didn’t get that comfort all that often. Even if she did, what harm was a little extra love?
All I ever wanted was right here, right now. August, a family, a child, all things I could never have. I rocked the baby back and forth, still whispering small comforts only audible to her. It would be our secret. Then, I would have to return her to her rightful parents, whoever they were. And I would cherish this moment until the end of my days.
Unless I didn’t have to.
“You did good, Desi.” Through Randy’s groveling, I could hear August speaking. “Now get the fuck out so we can finish the job.” There was a scampering noise, like she was shooting to her feet, and not a breath later, her hasty footsteps followed her into the room. Our tear-stained eyes met, and for a moment, there was silence. Despite it shattering my undead heart to do so, I went to hand the infant to her, and to my shock, she shook her head as more tears fell from her eyes.
“Your problem now,” she croaked, scooping up the stray bags and leaving. My jaw dropped as the door slammed, and the sound of an engine coming to life and then fading away stuck in my head more than anything else I had experienced.
How could she abandon a baby with him?
My heartbreak soared into rage as I clutched the child close. I was only concerned that my trembling hands would cause this precious bundle to slip from my grasp. Clearly, this was not Desi’s baby. And I prayed to God that she was not Randy’s, which implied something perhaps even more terrible. Someone abandoned this baby, this miracle that I would never experience, with a predator.
Thinking I felt my face heat, I placed her back into the carrier and pulled the raggedy blanket over her snoozing form. After that, I raced to a door and pushed it open, hoping it was a bedroom, with the carrier in tow.
Much to my relief, but still not quelling my rage, it was a bedroom, and I trudged through a scattering of junk to make my way to the bed. I placed the baby onto it and piled stained pillows around her carrier, leaving a gap at the top. I knew what had to happen, and the last thing I wanted was forthis to disturb her. It was a necessary evil. Something we had to do to make things right.
Once I was done, I shut the door silently and stomped back to the living room. Fury was a blaze in my mind as I thought back to his file, all his crimes, hissins. The things he did to people, to us, and what he could do with access to a vulnerable child. It made me want to be sick, but it also made me want to destroy him. August’s rage would be nothing compared to what I was feeling now.
“Whose baby is that?” I snarled, pushing past August. His ironclad expression fell, but I ignored it, hellbent on getting answers and making things right. Not just for us but for her.
“I-it ain’t anyone’s,” he said, his words speckled with pained gasps. August stepped forward, still brandishing the gun, and kicked him in his spurting leg, making him cry out. A fresh fountain of blood burst from his wound with his callous action.
“Answer her, fucker,” he hissed.
“Alright, alright. It’s mine. I adopted it.”
“You’re a scumbag, you know that? Calling a babyit.”
“Sheis mine.” My blood was set alight as I took in his filthy words, only making me want to dig my nails into him and take out chunks of his flesh. In both life and death, I had never felt more infuriated. Before I could stop myself, I turned to August and yanked the weapon from his hand as his brow raised. Much to my delight, he stayed silent as I pressed the muzzle to Randy’s scruffy, pathetic face, ready to send my hate through his fucking cranium and paint the walls with his suffering.
