He left me out in the cold for so many days… it was the only place I felt…closeto him again.
I get there within an hour, and the moment I lay him down on the bed, I have a doctor ready to mend his body.
I’d told him to meet me there—for the staff to send him straight up without any questions.
When he realized Christian’s heart stopped beating, he looked at me like I was crazy…
Like I’d lost my mind.
But the promise of a bullet through his skull and he knew to shut up and follow my orders.
He stitches all the wounds that are too deep and casts Christian’s broken arm. Even though he’s stopped bleeding, I still bandage all his wounds, even apply ointment to them just in case, and the doctor is quiet as he watches.
I can see the horror in his energy as I work. He’s uneasy. Uncomfortable.
There’s a bit of pity there as well…
But he doesn’t get to be much of any of those things for long.
Because I put a bullet in his head.
I’m not in the state of mind to feel bad about it.
Baal noticed Christian stopped breathing, but if Christian comes back we could play it off as a miracle. No one would be able to say not.
Except the doctor.
The doctor would know it’s bullshit immediately.
The hours go by so slowly, I could be convinced the world was fucking with me.
With every second, the doubt and agony in my chest attempt to break free.
What if Christian’s really gone?
What do I do then?
“… You can’t be gone.” I thread my hand through his fingers. They’re cold. His lips are blue.
His skin is pale.
“You can’t be gone,” I whisper to myself.
The sixth hour is the worst.
The sun is setting behind the city. The hues of orange and gold are a painting across the sky and the dark blues of night are starting to bleed in.
I’d turned off my phone after the first hour. It was being too loud—everyone’s messages and questions… I should be back at the house now, making sure Kai is okay—finding the people who did this and going back to the family.
But I don’t want to go back to a place where everyone is happy about Christian’s death.
They’ll say it was his job.
They’ll say he was brave, and give me a pitiful look for a moment or two—his entire death summed up in a single sentence of condolences…
And they’ll all move on.
They’ll carry on talking about the people who did this. About setting an example. Conducting business. Solidifying our reputation. Protecting our ego.
