My world is confusion. So many sights, sounds, sensations I can’t untangle them, make sense of them.
I jerk around, staring towards the door, see the men standing there, the rifle flashing with gunfire. The bullets tear at my uncle’s flesh, the noise wet as they puncture his body, firing again and again into his bleeding frame. His body jerks with the impact, the hammer falling uselessly to the floor, barely audible in the continuing racket.
The gun stops.
For a long second, the only sound in the room is my scream.
My uncle falls, landing on the hard floor with the same noise as someone dropping a wet towel. Gurgles sound from his open mouth, blood filling it so I can’t see the white flash of his teeth.
His dull eyes stare blankly at me, not focusing, not seeing, no person left behind them at all.
Something wet drips into my eyes until they blur.
When I blink the world is crimson. My brain misfires for long seconds, insisting to me it’s glitter.
Crimson glitter, painting the entire world with its sparkling scraps.
“Rosa!”
Trent runs to me, stops short, staring with anxious eyes until I smile. Smile and sob and say his name, over and over like a mantra to bring good fortune.
He bends to cup my cheek, gathering the edge of his shirt to wipe my face, pulling a pen knife to slit through my bindings, smiling as I throw my arms around him, hugging him too tight, panic still working through me.
“You came,” I whisper, squeezing my arms to remind myself he’s real.
Zach stands behind him, by the door, still holding the modified weapon that is, for sure, illegal as shit. He looks slightly stunned as though even being the one firing the weapon, he hadn’t expected it to be so effective.
Caylon hangs back, his eyes resolutely fixed to the floor.
“You’re alive,” Trent drags me onto his lap, kissing me, touching me, stroking my hair back and kissing me again. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”
His arms are around me, hugging me so tightly it’s like we’re becoming one, our bodies melding together. Then he draws back to lift me from the bed, igniting the broken bones in my foot, the horrendous swelling in my face, my ear, the hundred and one smaller injuries that want to lend their voices to the growing choir of shrieking nerves.
“You’re hurt. Where are you hurt?”
Trent changes direction, ready to lay me back down on the bed and I throw my arms around his neck. “Don’t you dare set me down,” I warn. “It’s just a few scrapes and bruises. I’ll live.”
“One day,” he says to me, his voice rich with promise. “We’re going to stop just living and actually enjoy ourselves for a change.”
“You don’t think I enjoyed all this,” I say, smiling with so much love and relief that I can’t contain it to a more suitable time or place. “Thrill a minute. Five stars. Especially the ending.”
He tips his head, so it touches against mine, then curls me so close to his chest that my face vibrates with the beats of his heart.
“Another mess,” Zach says in a tone that borders on impressed. “Hope this multitude of dead bodies won’t continue or I might have to cut you loose.”
“Like you’d last a second without both of us to back you up,” Caylon mutters. “Just because you’re holding a gun doesn’t make you a leader. If you’re cutting Trent loose, then count me gone as well.”
“Jesus. What’s crawled up your arse lately?”
“Em,” Trent says with a wink to Zach. “Or at least, that’s what he’s hoping.”
“Get her name out of your filthy mouth.”
“See?”
The momentary distraction over, Trent nods to Caylon to open the door and whisks me through to the outside driveway, carefully tucking me into the car.
“I’ve just got to have a quick chat with—”
