Page 122 of Beautifully Wounded

“Ringo! Get the fuck back here!”

Again, I ignore Smitty, knowing too well that I’m walking a very fucking fine line with him.

Storming inside, I head straight for the bathroom, and the moment I shove the door open, a piercing clap fills the air as a bullet slams into my chest.

27

The quaking tremble of my hands holding the heavy metal of the gun is the first thing I see when I pry my lids open, my breath trapped in my lungs as fear grips me.

I just shot someone.

Oh shit.

I really just shot someone.

As my vision slowly unblurs, bringing into focus the now empty doorway, too many things happen at once.

My hearing comes whooshing back, although there’s a ringing in my right ear that’s not as evident in my left. There’s coughing and groaning, as well as yelling that sounds to be getting closer.

That’s when I see him. Ringo, laid out on the carpet in the doorway, his feet barely moving as he coughs again and groans.

“Oh, my god. Ringo!” I cry, about to drop the gun, when three large figures jump out of nowhere, guns raised at me.

“Put it down!” one yells.

“Lower the gun or we’ll shoot!” another yells.

“Stop!” a female voice calls from somewhere.

Is that Jols?

I cry out, terrified, yet the gun remains in my hands, my grip unmoving, not allowing me to become even more vulnerable as my body trembles violently.

“Ringo!” I cry, tears streaming from my eyes. “Please tell me he’s okay.” I beg, still aware that I have the barrel of three guns pointed at me.

Cough. “Stand,” cough, “down.”

A sob escapes me as I hear the muttered rasp of Ringo’s voice, and a moment later, he pushes himself up to sit in the doorway.

“But she shot you,” one voice says, and through the blur of my tears, I can’t focus on the man’s face to see if I know him.

“It’s alright, Vender. It was an accident.” Ringo coughs again, his hands moving to his chest slowly, like their weight is too much to bear.

Then he glances down at his chest, his fingers grazing over something before he chuckles.

“Thank fuck for the Kevlar.”

Kevlar?

What?

I’m sobbing now, the gun still pointed in Ringo’s direction, yet my determined grip begins to falter.

“My gun will remain on her until she drops the fucking metal, man,” Vender snaps.

“You fucking shoot her, and I’ll end you!” Ringo booms over his shoulder before his furious gaze returns to me. “It’s okay, Angel. You can put the gun down now. You’re safe.”

Safe?

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