Draeon saw it, too. His smirk faltered for a fraction of a second. "Bold move," he threatened. "You pull that trigger, and my men come pouring out that door to put you both in the ground."
Right then, more heavily armed men exited the SUVs that had pulled up behind Vinny's sedan.
The warehouse doors behind Draeon stayed completely closed. No backup was coming for him. His men were trapped inside with Moses and Marcus. Still, Draeon stood his ground, his head held high, ready for whatever execution was coming. Our daddy would have been proud of how reckless he was.
Vinny took one calculated step forward. Then another.
"I'm gonna give you exactly one chance," Vinny said, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet register. "Drop the gun. Walk away. And you never come near her again."
Draeon stared at him, the red dot bouncing slightly on his skin. Then he laughed again, pure defiance. "You think I'm scared of a red dot? I've been dying since the day I was born, pretty boy. You think I—"
BANG.
Vinny fired.
Draeon staggered back, but he didn't drop. The high-caliber shot had clipped his shoulder, tearing through fabric and meat. He had jerked his body at the absolute last second, saving his life, but the impact gave me the window I needed to dive out of the line of fire.
Draeon screamed a mangled curse, and then movement exploded from the shadows right beside the exit door. One of his remaining soldiers had slipped out unnoticed.
He came out of nowhere, his gun already barking.
POP. POP. POP.
Vinny went down. Just like that.
His rifle clattered violently against the gravel. His body hit the dirt with a sickening thud. His hands instantly pressed against his abdomen—and when he pulled them back, they were covered in thick, dark red.
"VINNY!" I screamed, already sprinting across the gravel.
I didn't hear Draeon behind me. I didn't hear the rest of the gunfire erupting as Bael and his men moved in to clean up the rest. I didn't hear anything but the agonizing echo of my own heartbeat.
I slid onto my knees beside him, the sharp rocks biting painfully through my denim jeans.
His eyes, hazy and losing focus, found mine. His mouth opened, closed, and opened again as he struggled for air.
"Hey," he whispered, a weak, ragged sound. "Hey. Don't..."
"Don't talk." My hands pressed down hard against his stomach, desperately trying to seal the wounds and stop the flow, but it was useless. The blood was everywhere. Hot. Slippery. Coming way too fast. "Don't you fucking talk to me. You should have stayed away, Vinny. You should have stayed as far away from me as you could."
His hand came up, his blood-slicked fingers weakly touching my cheek, leaving a smear of red against my skin.
“Don't cry for me,” he whispered.
And then his hand dropped, and his body went entirely limp.
Chapter Thirty-Five — Jamie
The hospital hallway was too bright.
White walls. White floors. Blinding white fluorescent lights that hummed and flickered until my head throbbed.
I sat in a rigid plastic chair that dug into the backs of my thighs. My hands were still stained a faint, horrific red. I'd scrubbed them twice in the bathroom sink, but Vinny’s blood was stuck deep under my nails, embedded in the creases of my palms, dried directly into the lines of my fingerprints.
The waiting room was entirely empty except for me and Bael. He stood by the far window, his massive arms crossed over his chest, his jaw set in a hard, tight line as he stared out at nothing. He hadn't uttered a single syllable to me since we arrived.
The clock on the wall ticked. And ticked. And ticked.
The redSURGERYsign above the heavy double doors stayed relentlessly lit.
