I don’t cry when the heat of the bullet tears through my arm, but I don’t breathe either. My lips fall open, gasping for air that simply won’t come.
Bunny, please, stop!I try to utter it over and over as she fights in his grasp, tearing her neck to shreds, but my throat continues to tighten as the wound burns and swells. It creates a hot band around my arm, so tight I’m unable to feel anything but the numbing sting.
“Let me go! Fuck you! Let me go!” Bunny’s fight is endless, but Marone simply laughs, watching as her chest becomes drenched with blood while pieces of her neck split open wider.
“Look at our girl, boy,” he chuckles, “look what you do to her.”
Fighting the muscles in my throat, I force the words out. They’re strained and tired, but they come out stronger than I would have thought. “Let her fuckinggo.”
“Not yet,” Marone proclaims, eyes traveling to his knee. “Blow your kneecap,” he orders. “I want to see chunks besides mine.”
“No!” Bunny’s words are cut short when his hand slips beneath her shirt, viciously palming her breast until tears bead in her eyes.
I take another step forward, but his glare becomes hard, forcing me to be still or she’ll pay for it. “Well, come on. Or do you need some motivation?”
I don’t.I nod, already moving the gun to press beside my kneecap. But he moves, too. The knife that was embedded in Bunny’s skin travels down the length of her body, where his hand previously rested, and points straight into the space between her legs. She begins squirming when the tip breaks through denim, a different kind of terror in her eyes.
Her eyes close as if she’s accepted defeat, but I blast through my bone before that could ever be true. This time, I can’t contain my cry of pain. It pours out of me as it hits the ground, tears dripping as fragments of myself lie beside the chunks of Marone.
After the shot, I couldn’t hold onto the gun. It lies discarded on the blood-bathed carpet, waiting for someone to take hold. My hands can’t reach for it, not when instinct begs me to hold the pieces of me together.
Somewhere in the distance, Bunny cries my name. She begs me to look at her, but I can’t, not when it’s my fault that we're in this mess to begin with.
I got us here,my brain screams, as my knee roars in agony. I should’ve taken the shot instead of playing predator.
Soon, there’s so much blood rushing in and out of my head that I can’t hear anything but the faraway screams of Bunny. She shrieks indecipherable sentences. I take the chance to look at her then. In my fuzzy, tear-soaked vision, I see her melting andflailing against Marone as he runs his fingers through her hair. Her face is blotchy and red—more broken than I’ve ever seen.
“We’re almost finished here.” Marone’s words, like a wicked curse, break through the fog. “Cade,” he calls, for once using my name. He doesn’t stop until I break focus away from Bunny and place it all on him.
Good dog,his smile screams. “Blow your brains out,” is his final command. There’s no smile, no joy—just pure curiosity. “I want to see what color paints my walls.”
Bloody vomit replaces Bunny’s tears. It flows out of her like a gory river, turning Marone’s flooring into an actual bath. Despite the carnage getting all over his hand, Marone’s attention is only on me—and the gun all alone.
“Pick it up.”
My heart races in my chest, each beat against my ribs cracking the bone a little more until I’m ruined altogether. There’s no stopping my tears or the fist in my throat reaching for the battering organ. I’ve never shown Marone any weakness, but I beg now. I reduce myself to nothing because it’s the only way I can live with her.
“Please.”
But all Marone does is laugh. “Pick it up, or I fucking gut her.”
“Let him!” Bunny throws herself against the blade, attempting to gut herself if that means I get to live. She comes close to impaling herself a few times, killing me further, but Marone stops her every time—jerking her left and right before muttering vile words in her ear.
“He’s not yours!” Bunny shouts in response, her eyes pleading for me to understand who I actually belong to.
You’re mine.
And you’re mine, too, Bun.
Whatever he sees passing between Bunny and me, Marone can’t stand it, patience finally exploding into the monster I knew. “Fucking now!” he roars, spit flying. “Pick up that fucking gun, or I will fuck her on this knife and make you swallow her fucking insides!Pick up the fucking gun, dog!”
The image he paints sends vomit up my own throat, but I swallow the burning fluid before shouting, “Okay!” I thought, lying on the ground, the pain in my body couldn’t be any worse, but when I put my weight on my hands and put my weight onto the shattered bones inside my knee, life spins out underneath me.
Tears, bile, and blood spew from my lips, but I crawl forward. Fragments of bone pierce through my skin with each inch until I’m a pincushion with a gun. When the heavy metal is back in my hand, I look up between sweaty strands of hair.
I know I’m not going to make it out of this, and from the look in her eyes, Bunny knows too. Don’t be afraid, I want to tell her, but instead, I finally mouth the truth.
I love you.
