Page 80 of 23 Hours

I deserve that.

I dip my head in understanding.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever loved.”

Fuck.

My stomach clenches.

I say nothing.

“You get me, in here.” She taps the handgun to her heart.

Christ. What can I say to that? She’s not the first woman to fall in love with me. That’s why I don’t do feelings. Why I don’t date. No matter how much I like them, their inevitable heartbreak isn’t a prize to be won. I shield them more for their own good than mine. Sorry fixes nothing, no matter how many times I express it. Facts are facts. I want her to be happy, healthy, and not mixed up in this horrible mess. But I can’t give her something that isn’t mine to give. This fickle, fucked-up organ in my chest doesn’t like people. The bastard doesn’t even like me. Who does he seem to like? Kit. That’s all I know. He wakes up when she’s around. He beats and feels a whole lot less heavy in her presence. It’s new. Terrifying. Confusing… and… so… so… so motherfuckin’ terrifying. Yeah, the latter needed mentioning again. Terrifying. There, a third time.

Doin’ my best not to make the situation any worse than it already is, and to make her relinquish the weapon, I put out a hand.“Give me the gun, Niki. Please.” I speak cool and slow, palms up, feet planted, steady eyes on hers.

She steps back.

Once. Twice.

I remain still.

“Niki, please.”

Staring at my proffered hand, her head shakes in tiny, sharp bursts. Tears drip one by one down her cheeks. Reaching her chin, each free falls to the floor.Plop, plop, plop.

“Why? You don’t care. None of you care.” Her words are a mere whisper, barely heard above the thumping of the common room speakers.

“I care. I’m here. This is me carin’.” Wiggling my fingers, I nod toward my open palm. I don’t wanna be a problem for her. I don’t want her havin’ to carry all this grief by herself. I just want her to put the gun down and get help. That, I can do for her. That, I can give.

“Can you love me?” Her bottom lip trembles.

No.

The look on my face must be answer enough. Niki sucks back a sob as she lifts the gun to her temple. Before I can do a damn thing, say a damn thing, she flashes me an ugly, broken smile and pulls the trigger. Brain matter sprays from the opposite side of her skull, bathing the hallway walls in crimson.

No!

Not giving a damn about my own injuries, I dive forward to catch her body before it crumbles to the ground.

I cradle her limp form in my arms as I sit on the floor, my back against the wall, my legs out, her blood coating us both. My wound throbs in time with my frantic heart as I rock her still-warm body against mine.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, a frog lodging itself in my throat, making it hard to breathe. “You deserved better. So much fuckin’ better.” I hug her tighter to my chest, wishing I could have done more, could’ve been more.

Fuck.

I swallow thickly.

Fuck!

Niki, why’d you have to go and do something so goddamn stupid?

I can’t believe this is real.

Hot liquid blurs my vision.

A large form casts a shadow over us as it blocks out the overhead lights. “Gunz…brother… What the hell’s goin’ on?”

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