Page 122 of Burn With Me

Chris stares at me for a while. There’s a pregnant pause as his eyes bounce between me and Scott until he finally settles his gaze on me. “Will you be a goodfuckinggirl foroncein your goddamned life?” he finally spits at me.

I nod, the motion causing a fresh wave of pain to burst behind my eyes. When I open them again, Chris steps toward me before there’s a loud bang, and his head snaps toward the door.

Scott rushes over to me, pulling me behind him as a dark blur slams into Chris. It takes me a few moments to realize it’s Jackson, and my heart jumps, knowing he came for me.

“Where the fuck are the cops?” Scott says to himself as he helplessly watches Jackson struggle to get the gun out of Chris’ hand.

“You fucking asshole! If you touched one fucking hair on her head, I’m going to tear you apart!” Jackson shouts as he shoulder-checks Chris into the wall before punching him in the face.

“Oh, I did more than that, didn’t I, Gin? Wanna tell himwhereI touched you?” Chris laughs in Jackson’s face, his hand never loosening on the gun that’s pointed at the ceiling.

“Stop! Stop it!” I shout from behind Scott. At any moment, all it will take is for Chris to point it at Jackson and pull the trigger. He’d never survive it at that range.

“Ginny, come on,” Scott urges. He turns and tries to push me back into the hall on the other side of the kitchen, but I struggle against him the best I can, not wanting to let Jackson out of my sight.

“No! Jackson!” The further Scott drags me away, the harder it is to hear what Jackson and Chris are saying to each other.

“He’s got it, Ginny!” Scott tries to reason with me, but no sooner than the words are out of his mouth, my worst fear comes alive.

The gun goes off. Its thundering boom reverberates in the kitchen.

“Jackson!” I scream. Everything seems to move in slow motion as Scott blocks my view.

Multiple voices are shouting, “NYPD! Hands in the air!” seconds too late.

It feels like my heart has stopped. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, working overtime to keep my body from collapsing.

Scott’s fingers tighten on my arms, and my gaze rises to his…just as he falls to his knees.

Blood blooms brightly through the breast of his white dress shirt, staining the tan suit jacket he’s wearing as it pours from the bullet wound just below his heart. Slowly, I sink to the floor as he collapses. “Scott…”

“Scott!” Jackson yells. My eyes snap up to see Jackson, alive and unharmed, fighting against an officer.

“We need an ambulance!” someone shouts.

Everything that was moving in slow motion clicks into real-time. Jolting forward, I press my hands over Scott’s bullet wound as Jackson kneels on the other side of his body.

“Hang on, help is coming,” he tells his uncle.

“Jackson, I want you to know that I’m proud as hell ofyou,” Scott says weakly. He coughs, blood appearing at the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t you dare fucking speak like that. You’re going to be fine!” As Jackson speaks, his voice cracks, splintering my heart into a million pieces.

This is all my fault.

“Tell your aunt I love her. Tell her I never stopped. Even when I was at my lowest and I…I–”

“We’ll tell her. Try to save your energy. The ambulance is almost here,” I cut him off.

Where the fuck are they? Where did the cops go?

My hands are covered in his blood.

It should have been me.

“I think we all know I’m not going to make it, Ginny,” he says softly.

“You better fucking hold on, old man. I can’t lose you. It’s not your time yet,” Jackson cries.

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