Page 76 of Girl, Reborn

He was going to shoot her. One lastobstacle removed, one more body on the pile.

All for love.

For Mia.

Then, from behind Martin – another set offootsteps.

Martin flinched, halfway turning towardsthe new threat.

And Mia was there.

Her eyes were red and raw. Her face wasashen, lined with a grief too vast for words. She looked like a woman who’djust watched her world crumble.

But her hands were steady on her Glock .17

‘You,’ she said.

He flinched like he'd been slapped. ‘Mia?You’re here. Why…?’

‘I heard you.’ Fresh tears spilled over,tracking through the salt lines of those already shed. ‘I heard everything.’

‘For you. It was all for you.’

‘I never asked for this.’ Her aim neverwavered. ‘I didn't want this. Any of it.’

‘But they were hurting you. The ones whogot away. I couldn't...’ He took a shuddering step towards her, handsoutstretched. Supplicating. ‘I love you, Mia. Doesn't that mean anything?’

‘Love? You call this love?’

‘I was getting them out of the way so wecould be together,’ Martin cried.

‘Christ, Martin.’ Revulsion, thick asbile. Dawning horror, shattering her to shrapnel. ‘Listen to yourself. Thisisn't love. It's sickness. Delusion.’

‘You're only saying that because of her.’His finger stabbed at Ella. ‘She did this. She poisoned you against me. I'llfix it, don't worry. I'll make it right.’

Then Martin moved. A blur, a lunge. Hisgun swung up, zeroing in on Ela like a compass needle finding north. The gunbarked a deafening blast. A strobe flash followed, then the smell of cordite.

Martin staggered. Swayed. The gun tumbledfrom slack fingers as he crumpled like a discarded rag doll.

He hit the ground hard, a sack of meatwhere a man used to be. Life fled in a crimson gush, staining the grass in thepale moonlight. He left a red trail in his wake, a gory slug path any Boy Scoutcould follow. Crimson on brown on sickly green river scum. Prettier than it hadany right to be in the pre-dawn glow.

But his body kept moving. Martin rolleddown the bank in a tangle of expensive suit and cooling flesh. She followed hisdescent – spatters of red on green, the physics of a body in motion, the finalsplash as he hit the water.

Then the river got greedy. Inky fingersdragged Martin under, hungry for a taste of fresh kill. One arm flopped up in amacabre farewell before the final curtain. And finally, a bubble of blood burston the surface – Martin’s swan song in crimson.

And Martin – the so-called guardian angel– was gone. The devil himself, spat back to hell.

Ella stared, frozen.

At Mia, looking over the river’s edge, hergun still hot in her shaking hands.

Her face was stiff as marble, all colorleached out by the violence, the brutality of putting her former lover in theground.

For a heartbeat, no one breathed.

Especially Martin.

Sometimes, sweetheart, things gotta die soothers can live. It ain't pretty, but that's nature's way.

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