Page 83 of Lose to Win: Lost Trilogy: Part 3
The front door bursts open, and my father is standing in the doorway. His eyes look crazy, so unlike him, when he takes us all in.
“Are you okay?” He looks right at me when he asks.
“Dad,” I gasp for air. “Sully is hurt and needs a doctor. And Puck is in shock, he’s not moving.”
My father walks in, Malone and a couple of his guys right behind him. One of them walks to Sully, and they start talking about his injury.
“Ah, the man everyone is scared to death of,” Kenny smirks from the floor. “I’m not sure why. We all managed to fool you plenty of times, didn’t we?”
Dad’s jaw tenses, but he doesn’t utter one word.
“You know what your weakness has always been, Devereaux?”
I watch him sitting up and leaning against the wall, too close for comfort to Steve’s body. God, I will never be able to unsee all this.
“You’ve always wanted to save all these kids, all over the fucking place,” Kenny explains. “You and I could’ve made a shitload of money. But no. The all high and mighty Jon Stewart had to be everyone’s white knight. Save Alice and her baby, then save Arlene and her brats. Then these two,” he points at Puck and Sully. “What a fucking waste.”
Puck is still not reacting in any way, and I am beyond worried about it.
“Fucking Alice was my greatest pleasure,” Kenny moans at the memories. “We fucked her until she bled… and bled… and screamed… and begged…”
My hands are shaking so badly, I worry that I’ll never be able to hold a glass of water again. My eyes are filled with tears at hearing all the horrible things this man did to my mother. The hell he put her through.
I lift both arms, supporting the hand holding the gun with the other, and point the gun at Kenneth Adams. He hurt my mother. He hurt Puck’s mother, and Sully’s as well. But worst of all, he hurt Puck.MyPuck.
I take a deep breath in and pull the trigger. As if in slow motion, I watch the bullet making contact with his skull. Blood and brain matter splatters all around, and he just slumps over with a small twitch. It is anticlimactic in a way. I was expecting more.
I drop the gun to the floor and turn around, only to find everyone in the room staring at me. My father’s eyes just assess me clinically. And then I look at my husband.
“Puck,” I cry out, the shock of what I just did hitting me. I fall into his arms, and he wraps them around me, rocking me from side to side, but he doesn’t say anything.
I look at my father who is already on the phone, making arrangements for a cleanup, or at least that’s what I’m making out of his side of the conversation.
“Puck,” I repeat his name. “Are you okay?”
“I am so fucking proud of you, babe,” he whispers in my ear, sounding like he is snapping out of his daze. “So fucking proud.”
He takes my mouth into a scorching kiss, his tongue licking at me with a hunger I haven’t felt from him since before the time I told him about the baby possibly not being his.
I clutch at his shirt, just as obsessed to make him mine. I don’t want to let go of him. I’m scared that something else will come crashing into our lives yet again, forcing us apart.
“Thank you,” he tells me when our lips part with a loud suction noise. “You killed all my nightmares. It was all you.”
He drops his mouth on mine again, kissing me with passion and love.
“Hey, fucker,” Sully calls from the floor, making us part again. “I need to get this taken care of,” he points at his side. “I doubt it’s life threatening, but still…”
Both me and Puck jump into action. Malone’s men lift Sully off the floor and carry him outside where I see three vehicles lined up.
“I can look at that. I’m a nurse,” I remind everyone. Although, I’ve never taken care of a shot wound in my life. I’d probably mess something up.
“He’s got his own nurse to take care of him,” Puck mumbles from next to me. “Besides, we need to get you to the hospital, check on you and the baby.”
My heart melts in my chest at the mention of the baby. He still doesn’t know that it’s his, but he is worried about it nonetheless.
“Puck,” I pull at his shirt. “What about…”
I can’t finish the sentence, and I refuse to turn around and see the massacre behind us.
