Page 113 of Trigger Happy Ending

“Fuck you, bitch." He half sobs.

Ugh. An asshole to the very end.

“No.” I raise my gun. “Fuck you. Enjoy being totally fucking dead.”

I fire off a shot into Derek’s skull, blasting his shit-for-brains out.

I suck in a deep breath and lunge toward him, kicking him square in the chest, sending his body careening over the railing. He hits the ground below in a sickening crunch, landing in a twisted heap, brain matter and bone splattered across the concrete.

The ending he deserved, honestly.

I turn back towards Soren. Through the slit in his ski mask, his eyes rake over me, assessing, checking I’m unharmed. “You good?”

I inhale deeply. “Yeah.”

I scan the bloody scene once more, knowing Soren and I need to get out here quickly. My eyes flick back into the small office and I notice in the corner of the room, positioned high, is a surveillance camera. The little red blinking light tells me someone, somewhere is watching.

Shit.

I raise my middle finger to the camera, my gun in the other, and blow it to smithereens.

Chapter 47

Raine

Iscrub the living shit out of my body, washing away the blood, the grime, the stench of the massacre at the warehouse. Standing at the vanity, towel wrapped around my body, hair dripping wet, I’m frozen as I stare at my reflection in the mirror.

I barely recognize myself.

Dead eyes stare back at me with the hollowness of someone who has seen too much death. It’s a shame. They were looking so pretty lately. Now they’re empty. The weight of my pain is visible in the heaviness of my eyelids. My hand absentmindedly finds its way to my gaunt cheekbones.

When’s the last time I ate anything?

My grief seems to have attached itself like a fat-sucking vampire, draining all signs of life from me. I trace a bead of water down my arm, following its slow path from my hair to my wrist, the cool trail prickling my skin. There’s something surreal about how the world still turns when someone you love dies. The thing about losing someone is it’s not the big moments that undo you, but the stupid, little ones.

Another droplet slides, then another, racing each other toward my wrist where two colorful “Ride or Die” bracelets sit. I watch the droplets fall, unable to stop the way my mind unspools with them.

Cherry will never step into a hot shower.

She’ll never drink shitty coffee or stack a dishwasher or scratch a dog behind the ears.

Never daydream with me and ask me in her deep Southern accent to leave with her.

She’ll never get to live the life she deserved, the one she was so close to having.

And the worst part? The part that’ll stay with me until my last dying breath?

She would still be alive if it wasn’t for me. I could have made a difference. I could have done something. I could have been something other than destructive for once in my life. But I didn’t. I didn’t do a thing.

I fucking hate myself.

“Raine?”

Begrudgingly, my eyes raise in the reflection of the mirror and meet Soren’s.

“You with me?” His voice is careful because what he’s really asking is if I’m okay. If I’m still me. I should lie and tell him I’m fine. That’s the easy answer, the one most people prefer to hear. Because it’s too hard, too difficult, too uncomfortable to hear the truth. But the words catch somewhere in my throat.

Because I’m not fine. I’m not even close.