Page 118 of Aria

That was when I felt pain.

I felt more pain than I ever thought possible.

Our eyes locked for a brief, poignant moment before we both glanced down at the red stains blooming on the front of Noah’s dress shirt. One just between his neck and his shoulder, and a second on the left side of his abdomen.

Ian shot him.

Ian shot Noah.

Lowering his weapon, Ian took a step backward. “Fuck you, and fuck love.”

Commotion rumbled at the opening of the alley as people began to flock to the sound of gunshots. As Ian spun around to look, Noah took the opportunity to lunge at him with a menacing growl, knocking the gun out of our attacker’s hand.

“Chelsie… run,” Noah ordered, stumbling, while Ian broke free from his grasp.

I kicked the gun away before Ian could snatch it back up.

Ian glanced down at the weapon, then at me, hesitating with indecision, before taking off running out of the alley.

And to my surprise, Noah chased after him.

“Noah!” I shouted, hiking up my gown and following.

Noah was shot. Twice.

Oh my God.

Adrenaline coursed through me as I raced through the alley in my six-inch heels. My ankle twisted as one of the stilettos broke off, and I winced in pain, pulling off both shoes and continuing my pursuit on bare feet. Gravel and shards of glass pierced through my skin, but I ignored the pain, half-limping as I tried to catch up.

“Noah!” I called again. Noah was about to chase Ian into the street, but a taxi cab was careening around the corner. He reached out, snatching the back of Ian’s shirt while I froze in place, a desperate shriek shredding my throat: “Noah,stop!”

Noah let go, halting at the curb. We both watched as the vehicle smashed into Ian with a sickening thud, just as he was crossing the busy intersection.

I brought a startled hand to my mouth as I witnessed his body bounce off the windshield and collapse onto the street, lifeless and still.

Bystanders screamed with horror.

Brad ran toward the scene from the front of the bar, shouting and cursing. “You pushed him! You pushed my fuckin’ brother, you son-of-a-bitch!” As Brad raced to Ian’s crumpled body, my own legs regained movement.

“Call 9-1-1!” I called to the crowd, catching up to Noah as he fell to his knees on the sidewalk. I dropped beside him. “Noah, Noah… oh my God…”

“Fucking bastard shot me,” Noah bit out, the adrenaline wearing off, replaced with shock. He raised a hand to his neck and pulled it back, inspecting the crimson fluid left behind on his fingers.

“No.” I grabbed him by the shoulders just before he fell backward. “No, please.” Sobs poured out of me as I pulled him to me, feeling the sticky blood smear against my chest. A crowd gathered around us.

Noah wobbled, his weight becoming unsteady. “Hurts like a bitch.”

“God, Noah…” I lowered him back, carefully resting his head along the concrete. Leaning over him, tears dripped down my cheeks, mixing with the blood on his shirt. Sirens blared in the distance as I pressed down against both wounds with the front of my palms. “You’re going to be okay,” I sniffed, placing a soft kiss against his forehead. Hysteria tried to claim me. My cries turned into hiccups. “Y-You’re going to be fine.”

Noah’s eyes fluttered. He reached his hand out, wrapping it around my wrist. The pools of blood grew larger, like fragile azaleas bursting to life. I pressed harder against the bullet holes, gasping and sniffling. “Th-there’s so much blood. I can’t stop it, Noah. I-I can’t—”

“Hey, look at me.”

His grip on my wrist grew weaker, and I choked back another strangled cry. “Noah… I can’t stop the blood.” I addressed the crowd that had circled us, drinking in the looks of panic and concern. “Is anyone here a doctor?”

“Look at me, Combs,” Noah pleaded.

I glanced back down into his green eyes, trying to convey everything I wanted to say to him in a single look. Everything I wasgoingto say—right before our worlds were rocked by a madman with a vendetta. “I won’t lose you,” I rasped. I said it with more conviction than I’d ever felt for anything in my life. “I won’t.”

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