Page 368 of Faking the Goal

"This isn't about me."

"Bullshit!" Charlie's voice cracks through the apartment. "Everything changed when you came along. Everything was fucking fine until you got in the way!"

"Charlie—"

"And don't you fucking stand there and tell me how I'm supposed to love her!" His face twists with rage as he presses the gun harder against me. "You think because you fucked her and she told you she loves you, you know her better than I do? I've loved her longer than you've even fucking known her!"

"You know what? You're right."

Charlie blinks.

Even I stare at him.

"I haven't known her as long as you have," Kentaro continues, his hands still raised. "I'm the one who came along later. I'm the one you hate. I'm the one you warned her to stay away from, and she didn't listen." His voice stays calm even though I can see his chest rising faster now. "So if you're this fucking angry, be angry at me. I'm standing right here."

Charlie's eyes narrow. "You think I'm going to let her go and take you instead?"

"I'm saying you don't need that gun against her head to deal with me."

"Ken-chan... no." I breathe, immediately understanding what he's doing.

Charlie does too.

His mouth twists. "Oh, that's fucking cute. You think you're going to play hero now? Get me to let her go so you can save her? Pathetic."

Panic claws deeper into my chest. The more Charlie talks, the more terrifyingly clear it becomes that nothing we say is getting through to him. He means what he said. If they don't let him walk out of here with me, he's fully prepared to make sure neither of us walks out at all.

My stomach twists tighter.

I need to do something.

That's when my fingers brush against something hard inside my pocket.

The pepper spray.

My fucking plan B.

A tiny rush of relief cuts through the panic. Thank God. Thank fucking God I had enough sense to slip it into my pocket earlier. For once, being paranoid might actually save my ass.

I don't reach for it yet. I keep my hand where it is, trying not to change my breathing or give Charlie any reason to notice what I'm doing, while my fingers slowly inch closer to the little canister.

As soon as my finger close around it, I pull it free as carefully as I can. I can't see Charlie's face from this angle, and turning around would give me away, so I don't even try. I bring the canister up beside my shoulder, point it backward toward where I know his face has to be, and press down.

Charlie's scream explodes beside my ear.

His arm jerks away from my throat as he recoils, coughing and swearing, and the gun finally tears away from my head. I don't wait to see whether I hit his eyes.

I run.

"TAYLOR!"

I bolt straight toward Kentaro as officers surge past me toward Charlie. Kentaro catches me against his chest, wrapping both arms around me, and relief crashes through me so hard my knees almost give out.

Then a deafening bang tears through the apartment.

Kentaro jerks against me.

His arms suddenly go slack.