Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 127941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Pain tears through me, but not from the bullet that’s lodged somewhere deep inside of my stomach. Tears fill my eyes as I watch the guilt completely consume him, desperately wishing I could take it away, but how? What the hell can I do for him now? He’s right. He shot me. He raised his gun, and in a moment of panic, he squeezed the trigger and the bullet sailed straight through my stomach.
The great Dante Carver let his desperation claim him, and because of that, he missed his mark.
That split decision to squeeze the trigger is going to haunt him for the rest of his life and there’s not a damn thing I can say or do that will take that pain away. I’ll never have the words to ease his guilt, it’s something he’ll have to work out all on his own.
It was nothing but a horrendous accident. That bullet was meant for the woman who stood behind me with a knife pressed hard against my throat.
My twisted as fuck, dimwitted, bitch of a mother.
No wonder I’m so fucked up.
What did I do to deserve a mother who has a hard-on for trying to kill her daughter? Though, I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree because I certainly have a fondness for slitting throats, and I just now discovered what a kick I’d get out of slitting hers.
Fuck. I hate that bitch.
Knowing I won’t get anywhere with Carver, I shift my gaze back up to King’s before glancing out the open garage to where the door lay in a crumpled mess on my long-ass driveway. “She … she got away,” I whisper, my words coming in slower and slower. “I … I should have … done something. I could have …”
“Shhhhh,” King rumbles. “I promise you, babe. She may have gotten away for now, but I won’t fucking rest until I’ve fucked that bitch up. You did perfectly. You did everything you could do. She just has a gift for escaping, but not anymore. We know who she is now, and she better watch her back. We will hunt her down like the fucking dog that she is.”
I let out a heavy sigh and nod as the pain starts to fade to a distant hum. “Good,” I murmur, letting the heaviness of my eyelids win the battle. Maybe if the boys have my back and take her out for me, maybe I won’t have to. Maybe I can just let go now. “I … I can’t hold on anymore.”
My eyes close and Cruz instantly squeezes my leg in a panic, his grip tight enough to bruise. “Not today, babe. Wake up, let me see those pretty eyes.”
“Mmmm. I’m awake.”
Cruz gives me a gentle shake as we hear the ambulance wailing in the distance. “Winter? Fuck, Winter. Wake up. You’re not dying on me, hold on a minute longer. The ambulance is nearly here. I have too much to tell you. Come on, I fucking love you, you can’t go now. OPEN YOUR GODDAMN EYES, BABE. FIGHT IT. YOU’RE NOT GIVING UP YET. FIGHT FOR FUCKS SAKE.”
I nod, as my body grows heavy and Grayson starts pressing harder, but it’s fine. I don’t feel it now.
I just feel darkness. A hollowness that spreads through my body and takes all the pain away.
I get to be with my dad.
“FUCK, WE’RE LOSING HER,” Grayson roars, his usual cool, calm, and collected tone now completely gone and replaced with nothing but sheer terror, pain, and guilt. “HAVE YOUR FUCKING PITY PARTY LATER, CARVER. GET THE FUCK OVER HERE AND HELP BEFORE SHE BLEEDS OUT.”
I feel King flinch by my head, his anger rolling off him in waves as he presses his fingers to the side of my neck, checking for a pulse. “If she fucking dies, I swear to God, I’ll make you relive it every fucking day for the rest of your miserable life.”
My head lolls in King’s lap and as I let the darkness finally claim me, a soft, broken cry breaks through, and that one anguish-filled sob is all I take with me as I say a silent goodbye to what could have been an amazing life.
“MOVE,” a harsh voice tears through the silence before my body is rocked and the pain comes shooting back with a ferocious anger, sending life soaring back into me in a big way.
A loud gasp comes tearing out of me as my eyes fly open to find unfamiliar faces hovering around me. I’m picked up and my body is immediately dropped back down onto a hard surface, my back flat against a table.
“Come on,” the voice cuts through the pain. “Go, go, go.”
My eyes widen in fear. Where am I? Where are the boys? Where are they taking me?
The people start pushing me and I grab at their hands as the searing pain calls for me to pass out again. “Stop. STOP. DON’T TOUCH ME,” I scream, the wild panic tearing through my chest as I fight against their hold, thrashing and pulling. Where are the boys? “Carver? CARVER?”