Page 101 of Cruel Possession
Aiming lower, he fires another shot into her thigh. There’s so much blood. It pours onto the ground as her head drops against the floor.
He hustles out the front door as I hurry over to Zoe.
I rip my shirt over my head, searching around for anything I might be able to help tourniquet her leg.
The door slams as I push myself to my feet and limp into the kitchen.
I rummage through her drawers, finding a wooden spoon and swiping my phone off the counter. I dial Royce’s number, dropping the phone to the ground as I kneel beside Zoe.
“Everything is going to be fine.” I wrap the fabric of my shirt around her thigh just above the wound and fashioning the tourniquet.
I tighten it as she grimaces, letting out a moan as her head falls back.
“What is it?” Royce says.
“Get to Zoe’s house. She’s been shot.”
After tying the tourniquet off, I lean over her, dragging down one of the jackets from the hook by the door and holding it over her chest wound. My stomach continues to bleed, but I ignore it, putting as much pressure on her chest as I can.
She’s not going to die because I didn’t try to save her.
Her gaze turns to me, the corner of her mouth tilting up into a small smile. “It’s okay, Aiden, you can let go.”
“No.” I fight past the lump in my throat, eyes stinging. “No. You and I have a lot of arguing left to do about this little stunt you pulled, so it’s not okay. You’re going to hold on. Help is coming, and we’re going to get you to a hospital.”
On the other end of the phone call, Gia is shouting, but I don’t have the energy to talk to her right now.
All I can do is keep Zoe alive long enough for someone to get here and get us to the hospital.
Tears flood her eyes, and her breathing is labored, her blood soaking through the fabric and slipping through my fingers. “I love you, Aiden. And I’m sorry.”
Chapter Thirty
AIDEN
I love you,Aiden. And I’m sorry.
What the fuck kind of last words are those?
I grimace against the pain, shifting in my seat. Though the ache in my torso and leg eases a little, there’s nothing that can be done about the tightness in my chest. I’ve been trying to fight past it for the last two days, and it never seems to go anywhere.
How could it when I watched the only woman I’ve ever loved get shot in the chest? When I held her, feeling the blood draining from her?
When I did everything I could to keep her alive?
I suck in a sharp breath as the beeping seems endless, the wires attached to her frail body too many to count.
Getting Zoe here in time was a nightmare.
Royce walked through the door only a couple of minutes after I called, but even then I was sure it was too late.
I stare at the ring on her finger. When I reach out to touch her, she’s still cold. Too cold. Even with what has to be three different blankets piled on top of her.
As I brush my thumb over the back of her hand, looking at the faint scars on her knuckles, I fight back another wave of tears.
I can’t remember the last time I cried before seeing her whisked away to the operating room when we arrived.
Two days later, she’s still not awake.
