"Mia..." he called out again.
The red mist took over me completely. My brother had come here with a clear goal in mind, forcing Mia's hand. Of all the things I had imagined Stefan to be capable of, this was never one of them, but there was no denying what his intent was. There was no forgiveness, only retribution. He had placed himself into the same league as Marco with the stunt he had attempted.
I took aim and delivered a shot directly to Stefan's head. The fallout from the assault hitting both myself and Mia.
"Oh, God," she whispered horrified. Mia dropped the gun and scrambled backwards until she hit the wall in the room. I hastily put my gun away and walked towards her.
"Luc!" Dante called.
Mia looked up at me, eyes full of panic. I shrugged off my jacket and covered her up. Dante came into the living room and surveyed the scene with wide eyes before a calm settled over him.
"Okay, what do you need me to do?" Dante asked all business.
"Get Dom," I told him. "Get this cleaned up."
Dante gave me a nod. He took his phone out of his pocket to get in touch with Dom and I turned back to Mia.
"Can you stand?" I asked her.
After a few moments, she nodded her head and I helped her onto her feet. She shook like a leaf and I picked her up into my arms before taking her to our bedroom. I walked straight into the bathroom and sat her on the counter before I turned on the shower.
"Did he do anything to you?" I asked as I came back to her. I slipped my jacket from her and realized that I too was shaking but it wasn't from the loss of my brother. I shook from anger that this could have happened under my roof. Mia's shirt had been torn and her bun was lopsided and messy from where it had been pulled at.
"No," she whispered. "He tried."
I closed my eyes for a moment and felt Mia's hands on his chest.
"I killed him." Her voice barely carried over the sound of the shower.
"No." My eyes snapped open. I took Mia's face in my hands and tried again with a softer approach. Losing my shit in front of her would not help right now. She had experienced and witnessed more than I wanted her to in a lifetime. "No. You defended yourself, Mia. You did what you needed to protect yourself. I killed him. I took that final shot."
Every ounce of me wished I had buried more bullets in my brother for placing us in that situation.
"This is my fault," Mia told me. She launched herself from the counter and pushed past me before heaving into the toilet and emptying the contents of her stomach. When she was done, I pulled her back to her feet. Even after years, my stomach still churned after every kill. You learned to separate yourself from the deed or you would never be able to continue with life.
"Let's get you cleaned," I said.
I could tell she was still in shock. It was as if Mia was not fully with me. I helped her get out of her clothes and I stripped out of my own before I walked her into the shower. We were covered in blood and whereas it didn't faze me, I was sure Mia would prefer to be clean as soon as possible.
"Luc." It was almost a whisper.
Bruises had started to form around her waist and on her wrists and I bit the insides of my cheeks until I could feel the coppery taste of my own blood.
"Mhmm?" I asked.
"Maria..."
Even after everything she'd just been through, Mia continued to think of everyone else.
"Don't worry," I told her. "I'll talk to Mom."
"She's going to hate me," Mia said. "Oh, God." The shock had worn off enough for a wave of tears to hit Mia and she began to cry.
I pulled her into my body. "Trust me, Mia. She won't hate you. Just let me handle it."
Mia didn't say a word but nodded into my chest.
By the time they got out of the shower and Mia had dressed again, there was a knock on the bedroom door.
