Page 86 of Hearts Held
So many mixed emotions at one time, but we aren’t in the clear yet.
We are not safe yet.
Kenneth pulls out a shotgun from behind his back and takes aim, then fires at one goon who tries to run away from him.
Bobby rushes to Tilly’s side, yelling incoherently.
Lloyd and Biscuit run after Michael as Lyle shoots a couple bullets into the goon at my side.
Then a beautiful voice echoes from the concrete walls.
“How dare you take my boys’girls,” Baba growls.
Her peppered-gray hair is in a long battle braid across her back. Small jewels in it twinkle when they catch a hint of light.
She has a large black-stained wooden staff in one hand that towers over her small but terrifying stature.
My attention is drawn from Baba as my heart breaks at hearing Bobby cry. I look over to find him cradling Tilly’s face with one hand, whispering sweet words to her as he kisses her cheeks.
He has placed his belt onto her leg as a tourniquet, while holding his hand over her bulletwound.
“Sweetheart, please, please don’t leave,” he cries. “Please, I need you. I fuckingneedyou.”
Countless emotions hit me. The reality of the events that just transpired over a short time frame rip open my chest, flaying my heart.
I begin to wail alongside him, looking at her lifeless body and pallid skin.
They’re too late.
And I didn’t help her.
I didn’t do a damn thing.
I brought Tilly into this lifestyle, as well as my unborn child, and they both died.
Lyle cuts the ropes across Tilly’s wrists and her body slumps into Bobby. Her bloody, matted hair sticks to her gray face.
“Mate, I think she’s gone,” Lloyd states.
Bobby’s brows pull together as he yells with ferocity, “SHUT THE FUCK UP!”
He begins rocking Tilly back and forth.
Lyle and Kenneth alert me to their presence as they cut the ropes from my wrists and assist me in standing.
“We got you, dear, we got you,” Lyleexclaims into my ear.
I see Baba lay a tender hand on Bobby’s upper back as he clutches Tilly’s body, trying to will the life back into her. He repeats a heartbreaking, “No,no,no, Till. My Tilly.No, please.”
Baba slowly rubs circles on Bobby’s back, then bows her head and speaks an old language. “Bringe liv fra det som er dodt. Robert,” she states softly, with such compassion. “My dear. We must make them pay. Let me take care of our Tilly.”
Bobby looks upon Tilly, wiping away the matted hair from her face, then leans in to kiss her forehead. “I’m so sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”
Then he slowly rises, carrying her lifeless body toward the awaiting vehicles outside the building.
Leaning on Lyle for support, I trudge behind Bobby, watching as he marches forward, Tilly’s delicate hand swaying with each step.
He carefully lays her body in the back of one motorcar as he climbs in beside her. His face radiates malice—its features full of vengeance.
