“No!” I screamed only a split-second before Rafe let loose the bullet.
At least Amy’s death was easy, half a gasp from her bruised lips. A single bullet at the back of her skull and she was gone. Sounds wrenched from all of us who loved her. Guttural, painful and awful. Connor turned into a monster, rabid as he howled and cried and tried to get free with even more desperation. He was more animal than human now. Feral. Gone.
“You fucking evil monster!” I screamed at Rafe, abandoning dead Gabe, his knife still in hand, to reach my husband. Theo and I turned all our attention to the man, but he had a gun. He aimed it at Theo, making me halt. Then at me, making Theo pause and release an anguished cry.
This wasn’t good enough. This wasn’t okay. My messed up brain whirred to come up with a plan, a way to stop this. A knife was no use; we were tired; Rafael was angry, manic. His eyes dropped to Gabe’s dead body, and for the first time I saw pain there.
I needed to use that.
Slowly, I lowered the knife down to my belly, pointing the tip against my belly button. It was a suspicion, only a suspicion, but it was our last shot. I took a deep breath.
“You kill me, you kill our baby,” I said. “You kill him—” I nodded my head toward Theo. “—I do.”
Rafe’s eyes flickered, dropping to my stomach, then back up to my face, trying to determine the lie. It was enough, though, that doubt, and I knew I had him. All his attention.
“You’re a fucking liar,” he said, though he didn’t believe his own words. I could see it. He was too proud, too big-headed to not trust his virile seed had finally found some poor soul’s egg to fertilize. There was a reverence behind his eyes already as he looked at my stomach. Pathetic.
Then his expression narrowed, finding my gaze. I met him, hiding the fear. “Come with me, and no one else has to suffer. Come with me, and the rest of your family can walk free.”
“No!” Theo yelled. “Don’t fucking do it, Violet! Whatever is happening, we can deal with it. Not him. Don’t go with him.”
“He’ll kill you if I don’t,” I responded, not looking at him, still holding the blade against my belly. “He’ll kill you, Theo, and I can’t have that on my conscience when I have a way to stop it.”
Theo huffed. “Remember when I told you I won’t be on this earth without you? That I’d die before I let you return to him? Well, that’s still fucking true. Either way, it’s a fucking death sentence.”
I shook my head. “No.” My heart screamed at me, my lungs compressed, and my throat ached with emotion. All I wanted was him. After all this, it was only him. From the very moment he’d agreed to give me something that made him sick, to hold me safe, it could only ever be him.
“You die, I die,” he said, his voice thick, face twisted with pain.
“I’ll come,” I told Rafe, turning back to him as he strode towards the door, his gun still pointed at Theo. The sight of that alone made me willing to do anything. He would live. After all this, he would live at least.
Theo yelled at me no, bellowed about how I was never going to leave him again. His words were a jumble in my head, swirling and bashing at me as I took my steady steps away. “Don’t fucking do it!” he repeated over and over. Every time he tried to move, Rafe’s gun moved to me.
“I’m coming,” I said, walking towards Rafe with the knife still at my stomach, my other hand poised with my palm open, in case Rafe spooked and shot Theo. I was terrified for my brother, for myself, if I had to lose him. Despite all the death I’d already witnessed, both my sisters gone, I knew Theo would tip me over any edge that lingered.
So, I walked willingly to my tormentor. And when he smirked and lowered his gun, I kneed him in the balls.
Thirty-Two
Theo
IthappenedsofastI didn’t have a chance to react to one thing before the other was happening. First, I watched my sister, the love of my life, give herself over to the man I swore to protect her from, and my heart tried to collapse in. Then I saw her attack him, knee first, straight between his legs.
She wasn’t done. This wasn’t over. I fucking loved that woman.
“You fucking bitch!” Rafael hollered, his voice strained in pain, spittle flying, but she didn’t even hesitate to pounce on him. The gun pointing at my face fell from his hand, clattering on the floor. Thank fuck it didn’t go off, but I ducked on instinct, anyway.
I wanted to jump in and help, but… this was her fight.
Her knife raised high, her legs around his waist, she tried to drive the blade into her husband’s neck. She was fucking incredible, a force of nature, screaming at him, straining with focus and energy. Every time I thought she was giving up, she pushed herself back. Amazing. I watched her in awe, hands clenched into fists to fight the urge to dive into the fray.
They wrestled and fought, and for a second she had the upper hand. But he was so much stronger than her; she was weeks into torture, running on vengeance and fumes. The instant he began to win, I was there, squeezing myself between them to force the monster away.
But I needn’t have bothered.
Even though he’d almost beaten her, she was scrappy, and as they were yanked apart, she left her blade in his shoulder. It wasn’t a death strike; I could see that with just a glimpse, but he yelled out anyway, staggering back, looking in horror.
Violet laughed, wicked and manic, trying to reach for the handle again, to yank it or twist it I didn’t know.
