Page 57 of Vow to Protect
Raen’s voice whispers around the vision, “It all ends tonight.”
I brace. A thunderous crack shakes my brain. My eyes are still open. My heart is still beating. My hands are clawing. My teeth are still bared. My fight is still strong.
I suck in sharply when Dexter rolls a dead weight off my back. The hard thwack that cracked off my skull was another man’s forehead as a copper shell burrowed into his brain and exited the other side.
“Go,” he bites out. “Don’t look back. There’s nothing for you here now.”
“Why?” My palms twitch to strangle him. I steady myself to a crooked stand. Raen’s body has vanished, leaving a crimson puddle disturbed by oversized footprints.
“You stay, you die too.” Dexter shakes his piece, reminding me I’m unarmed. There aren’t any sirens. The men circling the ring aren’t in police uniforms. Cal was too fucking late. Hair drapes my forehead, poking the reopened gash Raen so carefully tried to mend. A cracked rib pinches with every inhale.
I manage to put one foot in front of the other, dropping out of the square stage that played out the grimmest scene of my life.
My ally was a traitor.
I stumble outside into the biting air. Bleak heavy clouds hide the mysteries of the universe. Its oppressive truth deprives my vision of the light I so desperately need in this world.
Icy raindrops pelt the pavement as if washing away all traces of my failure. Dropping to my knees, I drown under the immense sensation of anguish. I relive her foolish bravery. The determination and grit to seek revenge and how she collapsed after the killer shot knocked her back. Even in death she was elegant and beautiful.
Slamming the heel of my hand to my temple, I search for the memories of our time together. Under the unforgiving sky, kneeling in misery, I imprint her face to memory because that’s all I have left of her.
She’s gone.
I sink into the mattress.The sheets unmade from the last time we had sex weeks ago now. I gaze up to four faces caked to the wall in remembrance. I slip out my phone and take a quick picture of my daughter's ancestry and the sweet faces of two women who played pivotal roles in my life.
The apartment is unforgivingly peaceful and demure. No questions or moans. No racing heartbeats or ragged breaths. It was never decorated to her style or touched by her artist finesse. But this one oversized portrait says it all.
She was family.
An ethereal scent of lavender clings to the strewn cotton. To think we tried to heal each other's scars—or that I could actually save her.
Outside the window, thick grey clouds mask the sleepy white sun, bringing the late afternoon to rest with a depressing hue of dull. When I stand, the hairs on my nape tingle.Will I ever step foot in here again?Whether I can bring myself to sell it, I don't know.
Gathering myself up to leave this apartment block for good, I take one last look around. The pain in my chest is like nothing I’ve ever known before, more brutal, more turbulent and more final.
Tilly and Champ are with Kaleb until Blaine is locked up for life and I’ve sold the penthouse. They’re spending time in the French Riviera on a yacht until her birthday rolls around. I'll be flying out for the celebration in a day or two, leaving Dublin behind and carrying the rawness of Raen’s death with me.
Alex organised a special treat for Tilly after I asked him to find me a mythical unicorn. Only time will tell if he’s pulled the surprise out of the bag or stuck an ice cream cone between a grey filly’s eyes.
Gretchen is recovering in the hospital after losing a kidney. At least she didn’t die, even though one of her organs did.Fuck! I bring death and destruction like the fucking reaper.
As much as I wanted to put a bullet in Blaine’s head, I know he’ll suffer eternal misery in prison. I’ll make sure of it. Death for him is a copout, he deserves a lifelong sentence of torture, with a permanent limp.
I’m ready to leave it all behind. We need a new start, in a new home with an alternative plan. I glance back at the building I once called home. It’s not our sanctuary anymore. It’s wide open to threat filled with painful memories that will forever seem like a dream.
A man crosses the road. I instantly tense up, ready to defend. He nods curtly and strolls past me without an intention for harm. I’ve been so wound up since the whole ordeal that even the friendliest of men seem to pose a threat.
The estate agent has a buyer for my bachelor pad, turned family home. I don’t care who buys it, but apparently, I have to sign a few forms. Instead of taking the car, I decide to walk. Fresh air is good for the soul. My withered soul will need more than a blast of oxygen to resuscitate it.
A horn honks. Engines rev. Van doors slam. School kids chatter. Leaves rustle. It’s another late autumn day for everyone else. The world continues to rotate even though my heart has stopped beating. I’m numb again. Only this time it didn’t take whiskey and cocaine. It took two bullets.
I sense a presence behind me, but when I glance back over my shoulder, no one's there. I keep walking, stuffing my hands into my jacket pockets.
From out of nowhere, blackness shrouds my eyes. Material presses hard against my face. The darkness catches me off guard. I’m yanked sideways, completely disoriented. A hand shoves my head down, and I’m bulldozed forward, jostled into a vehicle despite my struggle.
“Don’t try anything stupid.” A rough Irish dialect mutters by my ear, and the familiar wedge of steel digs into my jaw.
All I can smell is lacquer and oil. “Where are we going?” I demand, aware my life is hanging in the balance.
