Page 57 of Crimson Tears

It hits the glass right near my face, leaving me struck in horror. My limbs actually begin to shake when Nessa locks eyes with me and sees my mark cut from her flesh. She is mine, in every way possible, and he cannot take that away.

I won’t let him.

I fall to my knees, pounding on the glass with all I have. There has to be a way to get out of here. Nothing is fully secure. Over and over, my fists meet the unforgiving glass until they’re dripping in crimson blood. I’m not making a dent even though I’m numb to the pain, solely focused on wanting, no,needingto get to her.

With a yell, I grab the bucket from the floor and toss it across the room. Some of the stone crumbles to the ground between the wall and the glass, making a dusty mess on the floor as a red mist seems to cover my vision.

The scene before me reminds me all too much of the past, and my mind traps me in the memory of the last time I failed Nessa.

The grass sways around me as I see Enya enter the property. She sneaks in through a window, and I train my scope on her. Ronan O’Brien, the leader of the rival Irish mafia and Nessa’s soon to be husband, senses her immediately. I wish I knew a way to call and warn her, tell her what a stupid idea all of this is, but I don’t even have a feckin’ phone.

I watch as she sits in the chair across from his desk, crossing her legs and giving him the fakest smile I have ever seen from her. I’ve known this girl for eight years, and I know every expression she’s capable of, even the fake ones.

I see Nessa’s car pull up to the drive, and I debate on ending everything right now. It would cause a lot of problems for the mafias in Ireland, but maybe in the long run it would be for the best.

But then, the man who murdered my parents steps out of his car behind her, and I throw away that idea because all I would be doing is giving him more power.

You could kill them both. The voice in my head whispers.

I could try at least. I’ve not trained for long with a sniper rifle, and it’s only been a few months of me watching Nessa while she believed I was dead. I haven’t had enough training with the gun to get a shot out on two mafia leaders in one night.

So instead of releasing the trigger and risking everyone’s life in that room, I turn to watch as Nessa and her father walk through the doorway. That’s when the worst thing I could ever have imagined happens. Without warning, Ronan stands and shoots Enya in the stomach.

My eyes don’t process what they’re seeing as Nessa’s father begins to yell at Ronan, and Nessa gathers her sister in her arms, screaming as she tries to put pressure on her abdomen.

But it’s no use.

Every fiber of my being wants to race down this hill and go to her, to them both. But Ronan and Donovan begin to get into it, and I worry for Nessa’s safety in the room.

In all my life, I have only ever loved two people outside of my family, Nessa and Enya. I have loved Nessa like a life-long partner, one you don’t ever want to be forced to spend a day without, one you wish to spend an entire lifetime learning everything that brings them joy.

With Enya, it was different though. I felt protective over her as one would a sister. I wanted to be the shield that stood next to Nessa in front of her.

And now she’s bleeding out on the floor in front of her sister because I didn’t take the shot when I had the chance.

But now I will.

With my heart threatening to beat out of my chest, I move my scope that was trained on Nessa and Enya as she holds her dying sister in her arms, to the man that caused all of this.

Just when I have a clear sight, I flick off the safety and the other wraps around the trigger, meeting the tension. But my body knows what I need to do.

Sorrow fills my chest, an emptiness now so prevalent I don’t know if I will ever be able to ignore it.

Then, I pull the trigger.

My head rests between my legs, my hands covering my ears so that the only voice I hear is my own.

“It can’t be happening again. It can’t. I can’t fail her again.”

My mind spirals into a violent tornado, whipping me around in circles until I no longer know which way is up and which is down. All I know is that my past is haunting me, hunting me, and I don’t know how to escape it.

I’m jolted back to the present by Boris’ yelling.

“Kid, get up! We have not failed her yet! Get up!”

I didn’t realize I had fallen to the floor, or that tears were falling from my eyes as I lay crumpled on the ground. Nessa’s screams ring loudly around me, threatening to pull me back into the raging storm in my head.

Just when I think I can’t take it anymore, that the agony of witnessing the woman I love might push me over the edge into a darkness I won’t be able to come back from, Green stops.

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