“Oh God, no, Ryan!” I heard Willow whimper.
“DO IT!”
The gun shook in the psycho bitch’s hand as her nostrils flared. My heart was beating like a jackrabbit’s, not knowing how this was all going to play out. Her lips pinched, her breathing grew labored. The gun stayed pointed.
Think, Madewell, think!Stealing a glance at Willow, an impulsive idea flashed into my head. Facing life or death, I had to take a chance. I had no choice.
“Catch!” I shouted at Charlotte.
“Huh?” she mumbled as I grabbed the vase Willow was holding.
With my best little league pitch and all my force, I flung it at the insane bitch. I held my breath as it—SMACK!—hit her hard in the head. YES! Dropping the gun, she crumpled to the floor, unconscious. On my next breath, I whirled around and lifted the now sobbing Willow into my arms.
“It’s okay, baby.” I smoothed her hair and kissed her scalp as she clung to me, her arms and legs wrapped around me. Like I was her lifesaver. I was.
“Ry-man, you would have taken a bullet for me?”
“Baby, I would take a knife to my heart if I had to.”
And at this very moment, something changed. I felt something toward Willow that I hadn’t felt in many years. The word was in my heart and on the tip of my tongue, but I wasn’t able to say it. At least not out loud. No, I wasn’t falling in love. I already had and didn’t want to lose her.
Ironically, fucking, blackmailing, sicko Charlotte, who had almost destroyed my relationship with Allee, had cemented my relationship with Willow.
I couldn’t save Allee. But I saved Willow. I was her Superman.
As I held her in my arms and smothered her with kisses, I looked up once, and I swear I saw Allee heading toward the elevator.
She gave me a thumbs-up. “Nice job, Madewell. Fuck the bitch.”
I smiled. She was never one to mince her words.
“Oh, and don’t forget to eat dinner. Chinese is the best… make sure to open your fortune cookies.”
And with that, she disappeared.