Page 27 of Saved By the Rogue

"What?" she gasped. He reached around and undid the ties holding her wrists and pulled her roughly to her feet. She winced as his hand dug into her arm, and I bristled with rage, furious at how he pushed her around. Was this what she had been used to all her life? Being pushed and pulled and shoved into whatever mold he demanded of her? I knew she was better than that, I knew she could stand to fight him on this, but the look on her face, it told me she was done.

It was a strange look, her eyes set with certainty – but certainty towards what, I wasn’t quite sure. She still wasn’t looking at me, her eyes fixed to the ground. Her father pulled the gun from his side and pressed it into her hand.

"Kill him."

Those words cut through the silence with a brutal clarity, leaving no room for confusion. My eyes widened. No – there was no way, no fucking way he was going to get her to do that.

"What?” Star breathed, gripping on to the gun tight.

"Kill him," he replied, lifting his chin and pointing it in my direction. "Show me you’re serious about this. Put that lame dog down."

She stared down at me, tears brimming in her eyes, the gun clutched in her hand. She didn’t have any idea what to do, that much was obvious. I didn’t know how to react to this. Did I plead for my life? Just tell her to do it? It was one thing to die at the hands of her father, but it was quite another to lose it to her – I knew she would never be able to forgive herself if she pulled the trigger on me. Her big heart wouldn’t be able to handle it.

"Don’t do this, Star," I warned her. "You don’t have to listen to him-"

"I’m your father, baby girl," he reminded her smoothly, slipping into that politician tone again. This was the man whose face was on all of those posters, the man who knew how to get anyone wrapped around his little finger – a man who was capable of taking control of any situation, whether it was this one in the basement right now, or the entire city that waited outside.

She stood there, staring at the floor, the gun in her hands. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I willed her to make a stand here, willed her to do something, anything to stop this. She didn’t have to listen to him, she didn’t have to go through with this, she didn’t have to give him a moment of her time right now, a moment of her headspace..

She lifted the gun and aimed it at me. I stared up at her, my jaw clenched. If this was what she thought she had to do, if this was truly what she believed she needed in order to come out of this in one piece, then I would let her do it. I never thought it could have ended this way, not in a million years – that tattoo I’d given her was still healing on her left wrist, the ink pressed beneath her skin, a mark that I had left on her for life.

And she was about to leave a mark on me for life, too. A mark that would end my life. I closed my eyes, praying, at least, it was quick – praying, at least, that she got some kind of relief from this, even if I had no idea how that might have happened. I just wanted it done. I wanted it over.

I counted out my heartbeats as I waited for her to take the shot, time slowing to the time between the pulses of blood in my veins. Not much longer now...

And then, finally, I heard the gun go off.

Chapter Seventeen – Star

"Fuck!” My father screamed, as the gun fell from my grip, crashing onto the floor below me. Jaxon’s eyes flew open, and I started to shake as I realized I had actually done it.

I had shot my father.

Just in the foot, but still. When he’d told me to shoot Jaxon, I knew I couldn’t do it, not in a million years – I couldn’t kill him, I couldn’t even hurt him. And the fact that my father would ask me to – he really thought he had that level of control over me, even still. He thought he could get me to turn on the man I loved like this, and there was no fucking way I was going to let that happen.

My father dropped to the floor, howling in pain, and I snapped into action. I didn’t know how in the hell we were going to be able to get out of here, but I had to try. I dove towards Jaxon and snapped open the cuffs, and he broke free, snatching up the gun and putting his arm around my waist.

"Let’s get the fuck out of here," he growled to me. "Where’s the closest exit?”

"The back door," I replied. "It’s up the stairs and to the right. But there are always guards protecting it, and they probably heard my father by now-"

And, sure enough, before I could even finish what I was saying, the door to the basement flew open – a guard stood at the top of the stairs, and Jaxon leveled the gun and fired off a shot, splintering the wood beside his head. The guard let out a yelp and dove backward, and Jaxon rushed towards him, taking the stairs two at a time, the gun lifted in front of him. I followed close behind, knowing we had no time to lose. I didn’t know if we were going to make it out of here, but we had to try.

We had to try.

"Out of my fucking way," Jaxon snarled at the guard. "Go check on your boss. He’s going to bleed out if you don’t get him patched up."

"What the fuck-" The guard exclaimed, and Jaxon shoved him aside.

"Which way?" he demanded to me, and I pointed to the kitchen – but, before I could call out directions, another handful of guards crowded the doorway, chaos and confusion breaking out all around us.

"Follow me!" I called to him, and I rushed to the living room – I knew the large picture windows opened up onto the garden, and from there, we could make it to the garage, where a dozen of my father’s cars would be sitting, untouched. Jaxon followed me, covering us as a few of the guards made a break for us – he fired off a couple of shots into the crowd, dropping a few of them and leaving the others to trip over their fallen companions.

The living room was empty, and I sprinted to the large windows that looked out over the lawn beyond – I tugged at them, trying to open them, but they were locked somehow.

"Shit!" I exclaimed, looking around for something I could use to break them. On the mantel, one of my father’s awards – for supporting local business – was sitting, a chunky metal sculpture that would do the job. I snatched it up and hurled it at the window, the grass spider-webbing with cracks in the split-second before it shattered inward.

"Go, go!" Jaxon called to me, as he pushed a couch in front of the door, blocking anyone from getting through. I scrambled out of the window, catching my upper arms on the jagged edges of the glass, which tore through my skin – I ignored the pain. I couldn’t give a damn about that right now. I was so close to freedom, and I wasn’t going to slow down when we were so close to getting out.

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