Page 73 of Forever Only Once

Chapter 17

Hazel

The gunshotstill rang in my ears, and my hands shook. This couldn’t be happening. This could not be happening.

As I looked above me at Macon’s pale face, pain evident in his eyes, I knew it was. And there was no going back. That was a shot. Someone had shot at us.

No, not someone. I knew exactly who it was. And I also knew there was no going back. There had never been any going back.

Macon rolled off me but still kept me behind him, my hands on his chest as I tried to stop the bleeding. Everything was moving so fast, and there was screaming in my head, but not aloud. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything.

No amount of pepper spray or security cameras were going to save me now.

Everything I’d thought I had done to protect myself had been for nothing.

Thomas was here.

And he wasn’t alone.

Somehow, he had lured me here. Macon had already been here, and now he was bleeding on me. I was covered in his blood.

I couldn’t breathe.

Why couldn’t I breathe?

“Run,” Macon whispered, his voice hoarse.

But there was no running. I never really had a chance to run.

It had all been a lie. The idea that I could hide and have a life of my own. None of that was true.

There was no going back.

This was my life now, just like it had always been.

“Help me get her up.”

I looked up at the sound of Thomas’s voice as another man came forward, his face pale, and his hands shaking.

“I didn’t know we were going to shoot him. Holy fuck. I just wanted my money. You came to me. You said you knew her. That she took from you. That all I needed to do was get her. That I would get my money from Cross, and that everything would be fine and I could get away. What the fuck? Why are we shooting people? Oh my God. That’s Macon. That’s Cross’s fucking brother.”

This was Chris. It had to be.

All of this was for money? No, for Chris maybe. But Thomas never wanted money. He just wanted me.

But this wasn’t my blood on my hands. It was Macon’s.

Cross’s brother was going to die, and I couldn’t save him.

His life’s blood slid through my fingers. I tried to help him, but then I felt hands on me, and then I was screaming aloud, yelling and kicking.

“You bitch.” I felt a slap to my face. My jaw hurt, and I crossed my eyes, trying to see. Chris glared at me, his arm back as if to hit me again.

“Don’t hurt her too badly,” Thomas said, his voice sly and dark. “That’s my job.”

I moved faster, trying to get away, but Chris’s grip on my shoulders tightened.

“Stop it. Stop fighting. You’re just going to make it harder for yourself.”

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