Page 87 of Law Of Love

Snap.

My heart stopped.

Not because a gun had gone off, but because the rope tightly bounding my wrists had been severed in half.

My breathing faltered. I had one shot at this. Otherwise, somebody I cared about was going to die. I didn’t know who, but I needed everyone to come out of this alive—besides Will.

I gazed down at the rip in my dress, actually thankful that the stupid butler had torn it, the split giving me easier access to reach down and grasp my firearm. Will’s gun was still to my head, but he was focused on a perplexed-looking Kaleb, his aim still on my limp father.

I took a deep breath, suddenly yanking my gun from the strap, holding it up to Will’s face and firing. A cry left my mouth as he collapsed backwards, blood splattering all over me. Kaleb and Brent shot at him as he fell, and I allowed my gun to clatter to the floor, crawling away from him, a sob rising out of my mouth.

Oh my God.

I'd just shot somebody.

I'd just killed somebody.

Just as Kaleb took a step toward me, others rushed down the stairs, all strapped up in police gear and sporting heavy-duty weaponry. I pulled my knees to my chest as I cried, my hands shaking, smearing fresh blood from my wrists all over me.

I’d never seen Kaleb look so heartbroken, and he crouched down in front of me, droplets of sweat trickling from his forehead. “Freya, you’re fine, baby. You’re okay. Just breathe for me.”

My entire world was crashing down around me.

“You lied to me,” I whispered, a chill wracking my body. “You fucking lied to me.”

My lungs were failing me, and I faintly heard one of the police officers call for the paramedics to enter through his radio. Kaleb attempted to reach for me, but I backed away from him, shaking my head and squeezing my eyes shut momentarily.

“I know, baby.” Kaleb gulped. “I’ll fix it. I promise I’ll fix it.”

Death. The place reeked of it, and I turned to the side and retched, covering my mouth to stop myself from vomiting. I was no better than Will or my father. I’d taken somebody’s life. I was a killer.

“Tell the paramedics to hurry the fuck up,” Kaleb demanded, his face etched with anguish, the creasing between his eyebrows accentuated.

Men and women in navy uniforms soon rushed down the stairs to tend to everybody, and two women immediately dropped to my side to ask me questions.

They took hold of my wrists, analysing the wounds and wrapping them up as I cried, fighting against them. Adrenaline was soaring through me. I wasn’t thinking straight. All I knew was that I needed to get out of here, but my legs were too shaky to allow me to move.

“Freya, they’re trying to help you,” Kaleb said from in front of me as I pushed myself further against the wall away from everyone, shaking my head. “Let them help you, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want to be in here,” I said with panic, wheezing. “I—I can’t breathe.”

My eyes met Kaleb’s—his filled with turmoil and distress.

Murderer.

Killer.

I cried as I covered my ears with my hands, willing for the evil thoughts to dissipate and leave me be, and my frantic eyes snapped to Will’s lifeless corpse—a hole in his face.

I’d done that.

I'd fucking done that.

I felt warm arms wrap around me, and I wilted against them as I was carried in the direction of the staircase, my vision blotchy and my heart racing so quickly I thought it was about to give out.

Blood.

I was covered in the stuff.

---