“Don’t shoot!” Brax yells as they point their guns at Bella. She stands there, a statue with her fingers still on the trigger, smoke curling from the barrel.
Erin makes it back over to Brodie and drops beside him, fingers shaking as she checks his pulse. After a long moment, she pulls back in defeat.
He’s gone.
I walk over and sit beside her, dragging her into my lap. My arms wrap around her in a protective vice.
I need to feel her alive.
Her sob shatters me.
“Shh, baby,” I whisper into her hair. “I’m here. It’s over.” Grief hits me square in the jaw, causing a tear that slides down my cheek as I look at Brodie’s still body, blood soaking into his shirt—an end to our nightmare. “It’s all over now.”
A few feet away, Brax approaches Bella, slow and careful. She still hasn’t moved. She’s probably in shock from everything that’s happened. From her shooting and killing her boyfriend before he could take her sister’s life.
“Bella,” he says. “It’s Brax. You’re okay, but I need you to answer this question for me—can you hear me?”
There’s no response.
“Bells, I need you to give me the gun.”
Still nothing.
Fearless, Brax steps directly in front of her, his body looming over hers. Anyone else would cower at his height, but she doesn’t. His left hand covers the top of the gun, gently guiding it to the ground. His other hand comes up and smooths against her cheek.
“Answer me, Wildfire.”
At that, her eyes flick to his.
Her trance breaks, and panic floods all at once.
“Keep looking at me,” Brax murmurs. “Just at me. Let go of the gun, Bella.”
On a gasp, she releases it and stumbles back immediately, hyperventilating.
Brax hands the gun off to one of his guys, then lifts Bella into his arms. He covers her head with his hand, holding her tight against his chest as she fights with herself to calm down.
“I’ve got you, Wildfire,” he murmurs. “Don’t look. It’s okay.”
He moves with careful steps, turning her away as officers cover Brodie’s body. A silent tear trails down his cheek as he watches them. A hundred questions pool in those dark eyes, but he doesn’t utter a single word.
My gaze shifts to his hand cradling Bella’s head, shielding her from the frightening world around us. I’ve only seen him this protective with one other person.
His son.
Guilt shadows his face. The same guilt I saw every day in the mirror after the accidents.
His eyes land on Erin in my arms. Emotion flares in before shattering. Just as quickly, he pieces himself back together and orders, “Get her out of here.”
Bella moveswith precision and purpose, on a mission to try and erase every trace of the life she built in this place with Brodie.
Trash bags line the walls, some tied, some still open. Each box marked with the same word:DONATE.
Sweaters. Frames. Sketchpads. Books.
It’s as though she’s peeling off layers of herself and tossing it away.
She’s been cleared of all wrongdoing and gave statement after statement, but now that everything’s over, she doesn’t want to hang around.
