Page 93 of Ferocious Nightmare

Twenty-Six

I awoketo the sound of a loud noise.

Still groggy from the pain meds, it took me a few moments to realize that the noise had come from the house, and not my dreams.

I reached over. The blue, Egyptian cotton sheet beside me was cold. Empty.

My eyes shot open. Aster was gone.

I stumbled to my feet, stubbing my toe on the oak nightstand. Cursing under my breath, I stilled, as the sounds of yelling filtered through my senses. Someone else was in the house.

Aster.

I grabbed my gun from the nightstand, and ran towards the bedroom door. I was still exhausted and in pain, but fresh adrenaline shooting through my system made me alert and ready to kill. I needed to keep her safe.

My heart pounded and fear streaked through me as I sprinted down the grey hallway. I followed the noise towards the back of the house.

I entered the entrance to the kitchen, the tile under my feet cold and uninviting.

I saw the dead body on the floor first.

Oh, God.It only took me half a heartbeat to realize that it wasn't Aster. But in that moment, my blood froze and my heart sunk to my feet. Time moved in slow motion as I recognized the brown, curly hair. Marie.

Was it terrible that I was so relieved?

Another sound jerked me out of my thoughts. Knight and Dante, both fending off several of my father's men.

And then I saw him.

My father.

Straddling Aster.

Yanking a knife from his neck and raising it over his head.

The fear in Aster's eyes.

“No!” I raised my gun and shot, aiming straight for him.

He shuttered violently with the force of my bullets. He slumped over, falling on top of her, groaning in agony.

The fighting suddenly stopped as everyone turned to stare at us.

The death of the Don was a monumental thing.

He wasn’t dead yet, but he would be.

She pushed him to the side, and I ran forward and slammed my foot on his hand. He yelled in agony and I kicked away the knife still clutched in his hand.

He stared up at me in shock. His own son, the one who didn’t deserve his name, had shot him.

The bullets had hit him right in the chest. His whole body was pale, the sheen of his skin slick with sweat. His fingers trembled and twitched.

Aster sat up beside me, her eyes wide on my father. She had his blood all over her. "Oh my God. Oh my God."

Her whole body shook, her hand clutched at her chest, wiping at the blood.

He was making choking, sucking noises, his voice a low rasp. "Coulter. Coulter." He raised a shaky hand towards me.

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