Page 180 of Devil Mine

Red matting the blonde hair I love so much.

Red on my hands as I crawl to her, dragging my body on my forearms, my defective legs unable to take me the distance.

I didn’t keep my promise,that’s what the accusatory voice in my head screams at me.I didn’t keep my promise.

When my hands find her, a bubble of emotions rips from my lips. “No, no, no,no,” I yell frantically, grabbing her shoulders and turning her over.

An agonized scream that sounds unrecognizable even to my own ears slams against the walls.

“Tess,” I bellow, my frantic hands covering her bloodied ones as I try to staunch the bleeding. “Tess,” I repeat, softer this time, the one syllable garbled by the gigantic mass in my throat. “Tess, what did you do? What did youfuckingdo? Oh, god,” I shout, feeling the warm blood bubbling against my hand.

As real as any truth has ever been, I know in my heart that she came for me. That the gunshots Marco fired into the ceiling were meant to draw her out of hiding. That she fell for it, more worried about my safety than she could ever be about her own. That those shots made her run blindly through the maze of halls to find me. That she came to save me and ended up sacrificing herself instead.

I chant her name as I scoop her into my arms, chant it like it can rewind time and I can step in front of her and take that bullet. My voice is hoarse and unrecognizable, the tears crawling up my throat like jagged knives stabbing at my flesh.

“I thought…I thought you were hurt,” she explains. Her lips are so dry, her eyes so wide and blue, but that usually bright color now bleeds in fear. “I couldn’t stay hidden not knowing what happened, wondering if you were alive and terrified that you might not be.” She smiles, she fuckingsmileseven as she lays bleeding all over me. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”

“Amor,” I cry brokenly, gathering her closer in my arms. I stroke her hair back from her face, accidentally smearing blood on her cheek and forehead in the process. “You were supposed to hide even if he killed me. It wasn’t your place to get hurt for me.”

“Yes, it was. Don’t you know…” she rasps with difficulty. “The queen always protects the king.”

“No,” I cry ferociously. “Not like this.Neverlike this.”

I’m covered in her blood. It’s everywhere and it grabs me violently about the throat, making me so nauseous I can’t breathe.

I’ve never minded blood before, I’ve reveled in it in fact.

But not hers.

Not hers.

I remove my hand from her stomach to peer at the gunshot and I feel the fabric of my world rip out from under me. The wound is gaping, the flesh torn. The second I remove the pressure of my hand, blood pours out of it in waves. The need to vomit, not in disgust but in abject fear, seizes me again.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise,” The words tumble in a rush reassuringly from my lips as I staunch the bleeding once more. “Arturo!” I roar, looking around for him. “Turo, call an ambulance, please call an ambulance,” I implore frantically.

He’s already on his phone, pacing and throwing anxious looks at us. I can’t handle seeing his face, I can’t look at it because everything about his expression tells me he thinks she’s going to die.

I shake my head continuously, over and over, so violently I hear my neck snap.

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep,” she rasps, ghostly pale.

I didn’t keep my promise. I didn’t keep her safe.

“Don’t say that,” I say. I’m trying to not completely lose it, to hold myself together somewhat so as not to scare her, but I’m failing. I’m failing miserably. “You’re going to make it out of here.”

There’s so much fucking blood.

It seeps past my fingers and flows in thick rivulets off the side of her body. It doesn’t matter how hard I press, it just keeps coming out and I know what this means, I know it’s not good news, but I can’t accept that. I refuse.

A hand comes to gently palm my cheek. I look up into her eyes and find them shining with tears.

And then her lips part and she whispers the sweetest words I’ve ever heard again.

“I love you,” she says with quiet intensity.

“No,” I respond, categorically. “Fuckno.”

Her eyes flutter shut and an agonized look crosses her face. It’s the first sign of pain she’s shown and it’s in reaction to my words. Her hand pulls slowly back from my face.

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