His deer.
My soul wants to leap from my body to be held by his, comforted, coddled. I can feel his resolve melting away even from this distance, seeing the evil that lives so comfortable beneath his skin move to the surface. It doesn't change anything. I can’t run to him when I know he’ll never let me go. I can’t go to him?—
Don't cry, Fawn.
I have to do this. I will force myself to stay strong. Defy him. Break our bond. Change everything…God,but a memory is better than the constant reminder he did.
He actuallychose me.
I watch in horror as he points the gun in our direction. The pathetic, bruised remains of my heart like a bass between my ears. Waiting.
"He doesn’t miss," Max states as he jumps to his feet. Opening the car door, he lifts me up and ushers me across the driver's position to the passenger side.
What is Clay aiming at?
Without caring that we are in the line of Clay's weapon, Max starts the engine.He wouldn't shoot at his brother…
Would he?
One shot!
A tire hisses.
My body shakes.
Max tears out of the parking lot, and now in the lonely, agonising safety of his car, I sob hysterically. My chest is cavernous, my heart a shrivelled, thrashing lump of flesh.
I cup my face and bawl, the tears creating a pool against my palms. My mind's eye desperate to see him one last time. In case something happens. In case.
The pull of Clay's gaze grapples me, so I twist in my seat and stare at him still bracing the gun, still pointing it at the vehicle, still wanting me to “come to him.”
I can't see his expression.
But I can feel the second he breaks.
Clay
Don't feel.
Pain shoots through my fingers as they lose blood while I choke the handle of my Glock, my bones swelling beneath taut skin, the gun cracking under the pressure, and I lose sight of her…
I. Lose. Sight. Of. Her.
Aurora shouts from behind my back, "Follow that car! Keep an eye on them." The sound of her heels approaching me is the last thing before everything goes deadly quiet, as though the air itself has crystallised around me.
I lose focus.
Losing her?—
She's gone.
The gun shakes harder. That I can feel. The sight still pointed at the end of the driveway as cars flood out. That I can see. But no noise. There must be commotion. Shouting. Tires.
I hear nothing.
"This is the last thing."
"This is the last thing. I will drag God himself to hell before I let you hurt again."