I gripped her wrist that held the jacket to my shoulder. “Leave me behind, Grace.”
Her head shook faster, her eyes so full of torture.“No.”
She needed to go now, because if the bullet had come from somewhere in this hall?—
Where had it come from?
I thought it a moment too late, because one second,Grace was in front of me, and the next, she was thrown to the floor.
She screamed, twisting onto her back quickly to look up at her attacker. The woman loomed above her, gun pointed at Grace’s chest. Without hesitation, Grace’s leg flew up and hit the woman in the side of the knee. It buckled, taking her down.
Grace quickly scrambled to her feet, her movements growing blurry in my sight. I blinked hard, trying to clear the fog, then remembered,Oh yeah—I’m bleeding out.
Death was so goddamn inconvenient, but the one thing I wouldn’t let it get in the way of was saving my girl.
While the two were distracted with each other, wrestling for the gun that had, at some point, flown out of the woman’s hold, I forced my legs to work. Blood flowed freely to the ground as I stood. I brought my fingers to the hole in my shoulder, curious how bad it really was, and—my entire hand was coated red.
Okay, so it was bad.
Probably why I felt lightheaded.
Staunching the gush would be futile, so I focused instead on helping Grace. I relied on the wall behind me to get my bearings, my foggy mind trying to come up with a better plan than the one I had. When nothing came to mind, I figured it was better than nothing.
Grace punched the woman, straddling her hips on the ground. But her attacker quickly got the upper hand and spun Grace so fast that her head snapped back against the marble floor. Her eyes squeezed shut briefly. I fucking hated seeing her in pain. Funny how, so recently, I wanted to see her squirm in discomfort, and now it only made me see red.
I took a deep breath, mentally cursing at my arm to get its shit together for five fucking seconds.
I shoved off the wall, mustering all my strength, and reached down with my good arm while the woman was distracted with choking my girl. I fisted her hair, and she yelled out, attempting to reach up to grab me, but I was quicker. I tore her off Grace, slamming her into the opposite wall.
Behind me, Grace scrambled to her feet and grabbed the gun. Her eyes landed on me, shock and adoration shining in them.
I smiled at her over my shoulder while holding the woman up. “Do the honors, baby. I want to see you kill one last time.”
With her tormented gaze still focused on me, she aimed the gun and pulled the trigger, ignoring the woman’s pleas for mercy.
The bullet lodged itself in her forehead, and I dropped the body. As if my strength fell with it, I collapsed to the ground. Grace was in front of me in an instant, hands returning to my wound to apply pressure.
“Why did you do that?” she shouted, so much pain echoing in her voice.
“Because…” I croaked. Something lodged in my throat, and I coughed. Blood splattered Grace’s shirt. I cringed.That isn’t good.But not only that, I couldn’t say the damn words I needed to say. She needed to hear them. And I couldn’t…
Her eyes turned frantic, moving from my wound to my face over and over. Then she searched the hall—for what, I wasn’t sure.
“Stay with me,please,” she begged.
I thought of every time she’d looked at me and thawed my heart. Of every time we’d teased each other, or when her lips would part as I brought her nothing but bliss.
I was good for her. And honestly, I didn’t think I needed anything more out of this life.
Chapter 23
Grace
Blood seeped through my fingers at an unstoppable pace, the pressure doing nothing to staunch the flow. What if the bullet had hit an artery? Were there arteries near someone’s shoulder? I didn’t know enough about human anatomy to know what the fuck I was up against.
I stood on wobbly knees, trying to get him up off the floor. As if I could carry him. Even if he hadn’t been out cold, I couldn’t get enough leverage.
“Henley, come on, please,” I begged, tears pouring down my cheeks faster than the blood from his wound. I tried to drag him under his armpits, even knowing it likely hurt the injury more.
