Page 97 of When Lies Unfold

But it’s no use.

Blood flows so freely from her precious body, and her pulse is already so weak, her breathing staggered. Her body twitches intermittently as if mustering what futile fight it has left to give.

All because she wanted to defend me. She was prepared to attack someone with a loaded gun to save me. This innocent creature owed me nothing, yet she sacrificed herself for me.

A strangled cry is ripped from my chest as I apply pressure to the wound even though I know it won’t do any good. I drop my head closer to hers, my ragged whisper suffused with desperation. “Please don’t leave me. Please.”

Santiago lowers himself beside me in an attempt to help. He sets his gun down beside Belleza, his tone filled with urgency. “What can I do?”

A surreal mix of shock, grief, and adrenaline swirls inside me, but I can’t answer him. Instead, I raise my eyes to Andro, who remains standing in the same spot he’s been in.

With his arms cinched by two of Santiago’s men, he stares down at us. His features hold disbelief and hurt, and I’m unsure how he can feel the latter. He’s not the one who’s dying.

With detached, almost robotic motions, I grab Santiago’s gun and aim at Andro. I don’t fully register the wetness trailing down my cheeks. I’m too focused on my target. My finger is poised on the trigger as I will my hand to stop shaking.

My throat feels as if it’s been coated with sand, and it’s a chore to push the words out. “It’s not bad enough that you tried to kill me more than once, is it?!”

I stare back at the monster whose eyes spear me with hatred while my one hand remains on Belleza. I don’t care how messy I’m becoming from her blood. I refuse to let her die without knowing some semblance of comfort in her last moments.

“You just had to take an innocent being’s life, too?!” My finger flexes on the trigger.

“Lola.” Santiago’s deep voice breaks through my haze of agonizing heartache and pain. “Takin’ a life stains your soul. You gotta know what you’re dealin’ with here.”

Concern laces his words, and it makes sense because he’s worried about me killing his nephew. “You don’t wanna have this on your conscience.” His voice deepens as though blanketed with thick emotion. “I promise you, I’ll take care of ’im.”

But he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know. My soul is already stained because I’ve killed before. I can claim I had no choice, but that’s a fucking lie. There’s always a choice. I chose myself over them.

And I’d do it all over again if I had to.

It doesn’t mean my conscience rests easy. He’s right about it staining your soul. It changes a person forever.

Voice raspy, Santiago continues, “Lola. Don’t do this to yourself. Let me deal with ’im.”

My chest heaves with labored breaths, and my vision blurs. I blink rapidly, desperate to maintain focus on the bastard who doesn’t bother to disguise his animosity. Andro’s lips curl in a sneer. “Better listen to ’im, bitch.”

“Shut the fuck up, Andro!” Santiago bellows. For me, his tone softens. “Lola.” The plea in his voice compels me to look at him.

Our eyes lock as he holds an outstretched hand in a silent request for his weapon. His brows pinch together in a fierce expression as my throat swells with marrow-deep heartache. “Lola. Don’t stain your soul. He’s not fuckin’ worth it. Please.”

“Fuck you!” Andro’s outburst barely registers because Santiago’s “please” ricochets in my mind. It’s only the second time I’ve ever heard him utter that particular word.

Please. This man is giving me yet another choice, all while reminding me of the repercussions, the consequences. He could’ve easily overpowered me to reclaim his weapon. But he hasn’t.

The question is whether I believe his promise that he’ll deal with his nephew.

Belleza lets out a weak, pained sound, and I flick the gun’s safety back on before shoving it into Santiago’s outstretched palm. Directing my sole attention to Belleza, I speak softly while petting her blood-soaked fur.

Estás bien. You’re fine.

Todo está bien. Everything is fine.

Estoy aquí. Estás segura. I’m here. You’re safe.

Mi Belleza dulce. Siento mucho. My sweet Beauty. I’m so sorry.

I stroke her and repeat whatever comes to mind that I think might console her. My tears fall more rapidly, dropping into her fur and combining with her blood as her breathing slows more and more.

Until she goes impossibly still.

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