Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“Well, are you going to pull the trigger?” my father snaps.
Seconds tick by. All I can hear is my own heartbeat in my ears. Why am I hesitating? I tighten my grip on the gun, the sweat clinging to my palm.
He lets out a long sigh when I don’t immediately take the shot. “Just like I expected. So fucking pathetic and weak. I think this is the real reason I always hated you, because you have no concept of what it takes to survive in this world.” He raises his gun and points it at my face. “Let me demonstrate.”
I don’t breathe.
I don’t blink.
In an instant, I’m assaulted by emotions that are soon drowned out by the deafening bang of the gun as the shot echoes through the room.
34
BEL
The bang of the gun is deafening, and my ears ring to the point that I lift my hands, placing them over my ears to eliminate the sound. Fear holds me frozen in place, and time ticks by slowly. What happened? A heaping dose of adrenaline fills my veins, and awareness trickles back into my body.
Drew’s been shot. He’s going to die.
I’m going to lose another person who I love and for no fucking reason whatsoever other than selfishness. My heart clenches in my chest when I lift my gaze to Drew and find him standing there, perfectly still like a statue.
Oh god. I move to take a step toward him, but my feet, legs, they refuse to move. The thunking sound of metal on wood drags catches my attention, and I watch as the gun in Drew’s father’s hand clatters onto the hardwood a few feet away, stopping at the edge of the rug.
I look from the gun and back to Drew’s father, who is slumped against a sideboard, his hand clutched tight to his side. Bright red blood blooms against his white button-up, and nausea rolls through me. There’s no missing the wide-eyed look on his face, a mixture of shock and anger.
It happens in slow motion, as everyone in the room turns to look in the direction he’s looking. I blink, wondering if what I’m witnessing is really real. It can’t be, can it? There’s no way. Yet the image before me doesn’t change.
I can’t seem to unsee Drew’s mom sitting there, her feet dangling off the edge of the bed, a gun clutched tight in her hand that she slowly drops as all the attention in the room turns to her.
This… I can’t wrap my head around it, and I don’t know who’s more shocked. Lyle or Drew himself. At this point, I think everyone is shocked, and I can’t swallow past the hard lump that’s formed in my throat.
What the hell do we do now?
No one makes a sound. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Victoria lists to the side, fisting the sheets with her free hand to keep herself upright. Her skin is ghostly white, and her long dark hair fans out around her biceps, only accenting her pale complexion. She’s wearing the same blue hospital gown I saw her in before.
I’d only seen her one time, but even then her beauty shined bright. Now, holding a gun in her hand, with fury flickering in her eyes, I feel a different level of respect for her.
Victoria waves her hand in a come-hither motion, and the doctor, still on the far side of the room, rushes across the room, stopping once he reaches her side. He quickly checks a bunch of the cords and then quickly plugs some things into the machines.
The puzzle pieces slide into place so easily now. She had herself unplugged from the machines so she wouldn’t give herself away, but how did she do so without going unnoticed? I can’t even begin to understand what’s going on.
I can still feel my pulse on my tongue, leaving my mouth dry and my hands shaking. I’m helpless. This isn’t my fight, my revenge, none of it. Yes, I hate that man, but I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to kill him. Mostly. Probably.
Drew’s dad makes a feeble attempt to sit up, and coughs, blood sputtering out of his mouth as he does. When he speaks, his voice is labored. “Looks like you didn’t have the balls after all, Son.”
Even dying, he has to disparage him.
Okay. I could probably kill him.
My legs are heavy, and my knees quake, threatening to give out on me. If I don’t sit down soon, I’m going to pass out. Ungraceful as hell, I slump to the floor, spreading my legs out in front of me. Relief courses through my veins.
Drew’s concerned gaze falls on me before pinging back to his mother.
“I don’t understand what’s going on? What’s happening, Mom? How did you get a gun? I thought you were in a coma?”