Page 54 of Endless Love

I see, too, that Ivan might be more hurt than he’s letting on. That trickle of blood is coming from a gash on his forehead, and his shoulder looks slightly odd, as if he wrenched it in the crash. But he’s holding the gun steady against Niki’s temple, and I see the other man go white as it seems to settle in that Ivan isn’t bluffing. Not any longer.

“You did this to yourself,” Ivan snarls. “You and Ani both. Lev, too, when you brought her into this. When you made it about anything other than our family issues?—”

“And what would you know about family?”

The third, rougher voice sends my heart clamoring into my throat. It’s rougher, harsher, with the heavier Russian accent that I remember from the one time I heard Lev speak, that first night.

I twist in the seatbelt again, ignoring the hot jolts of pain, and I see Lev standing behind Ivan, his gun leveled at the back of Ivan’s head.

“I told you I wouldn’t let you hurt her,” Ivan spits, not turning to look behind him. “I told you to leave her the fuck alone.”

Lev chuckles, the sound low and menacing. “Brat, when have I ever listened? To you, especially.Otetshas, at times. But now, after all of this, I think he’s learned his lesson. You are finished, Ivan. And I will do with her what I please.”

“This has nothing to do with her,” Ivan spits, and for the first time, I think I hear a thread of fear in his voice. “We’ll talk this out like brothers. Let her go. Let me get her out, and she can go.”

Lev laughs again. “You made it about her when you chose her,brat.”

“Ivan—” I croak out his name again, unsure if he can even hear me. My voice is a cracked whisper, the world trembling again, blurring at the edges. I have no idea if I’m that badly hurt, or if it’s just that the stress and exhaustion coupled with the accident has caught up to me, but I feel as if I’m about to pass out. “Ivan?—”

I can see the tension running through every line of Ivan’s body, the slight tremble in his hand now, as if he’s growing exhausted, too. And for the first time, I think I see him wavering, as if he’s no longer entirely sure of what to do.

That, more than anything, makes me feel like breaking. I didn’t realize how much I’ve relied on Ivan’s certainty until this moment, when I see it fading. And I want to reach out to him, to tell him?—

I don’t know what I would tell him. Not to kill his brother. But I don’t want to go with them, either. And I don’t want to see them hurt Ivan.

That feels unbearable.

Lev’s gaze flicks to me, a cruel smile teasing the corners of his mouth. “Ah, she’s awake. Watching this entire petty drama play out. Tell me,devochka,” he growls, his cold blue gaze meeting mine. “Was he worth all this trouble? Was he worth throwing away the life you had? And it was a good life, too, wasn’t it? A good job, a beautiful apartment. Friends who cared for you. The kind of life all women like you want. Was it worth it to have a few nights with my bastard brother?”

I want to spit something back at him, to tell him to go to hell, that every moment was worth it. That I wouldn’t change a thing. I want to wipe that fucking smirk off his face, to defiantly defend Ivan in the face of this much-crueler man.

But anything I could say dies on my lips. Because, after all—that exact question is what I’ve been asking myself this entire time.Was it worth it?Was the time I spent with Ivan, the thingshe awakened in me, the things I felt with him—was it worth everything I lost?

When I walk away from him and start a blank slate of life, will itstillfeel worth it, even if it feels like it now?

“I’ll give you one last chance,” Ivan growls. “Let her go. Let her gonow, or?—”

“Fuck you, brother.” Lev cuts him off, and for one horrifying split second, I think I’m about to watch Ivan die in front of me.

But instead, he pulls the trigger.

I scream, the sound swallowed up by the gunshot as Niki’s head explodes in a wash of red, his last words lost too in the echoing sound and the ringing in my ears. Ivan ducks forward as he pulls the trigger, flinging himself to one side as Lev fires, too.

I watch in horror as the bullet strikes Niki’s dead body instead, the corpse moving in a way that seems all wrong as Ivan launches himself forward, kicking out with one foot and hooking Lev’s ankle with his. Lev wrenches around as he falls, shooting at Ivan again, but Ivan rolls away, shoving himself to his feet and firing twice into Lev.

I don’t see where the bullets land. I don’t see if Lev is dead. All I see is Ivan, scrambling up through the bloody grass as he grabs the knife out of Niki’s hand and runs to my side of the car.

“Charlotte.” He gasps my name, sawing at the seatbelt in an effort to finish what Niki started. This time, I don’t struggle. I don’t think I could move if I wanted to, as in shock as I am.

I just saw a man die. Two men, maybe. I saw Ivan kill him—them. I saw?—

I close my eyes tight, and I feel Ivan’s hand against my cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and I feel the seatbelt give, his arm wrapping around me as he tries to cushion my fall down to the roof of the car. “I’m sorry for all of it. I’m sorry you had to see that. I don’t know how badly you’re hurt, Charlotte, but rightnow—” He looks up, over the car, as if searching for something. “Right now, we need to run.”

I can barely process anything Ivan is saying through the fog of pain. It’s turned from a jolting, white-hot stabbing to a sort of heavy, thick sensation that’s settled over me, chilling me deeply and giving me that sensation that I might pass out again.

“Charlotte.”

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