Page 21 of Beautifully Shattered
“Because of people like you, my baby died,” I deadpan, my voice flat.
There’s no pain in it. No fear. No anger.
Just cold, and dead calm.
I’ve accepted his fate, and now it’s time for him to accept it too.
“So now,” I inhale, my finger tightening. “You have to die.”
I squeeze the trigger.
The explosion is deafening, a thunderous crack that echoes up the hallway, making my ears ring. I stumble back, the kickback of the gun jolting my arms, and blood hits my face in a hot, red spray.
A shower of crimson bursts out behind him, splattering across the hallway and painting his brothers in gore.
As if in slow motion, I watch him drop to the floor, his eyes still wide, a bloody hole between his eyes as he stares up at nothing, the stark hallway now painted red.
I’m too dazed to react in time, too caught up in the silence behind the gunfire when the other three men pull their guns on me.
I don’t have time to react. Time to move. But before they can fire, a shower of bullets pelt into two of them, tearing up the hallway.
Their bodies jerk and twist as lead rips through flesh, spraying more blood as they collapse with heavy thuds, and I’m still standing in the middle of it.
Panic ripples through the last man standing, his aim faltering as he steps back.
But shit. He can’t leave. He doesn’t get to walk away.
Not after what they did.
He has to die too.
Lifting my gun, my aim locks on his chest before rough hands grip my shoulders and yank me backwards.
“Abbey, stop!” JD’s voice roars in my ear, and before I can blink, he’s wrestled the gun from my grip as the other man turns to run.
“No you fucking don’t!” Ringo growls, charging past me and into my line of sight.
Even though JD is tugging me backwards, my eyes stay trained on Ringo, a beast unleashed, fury burning through every step he takes towards the fleeing man.
Catching the guy mid-sprint, Ringo grabs him from behind and slams him to the floor.
He mutters a plea to Ringo, but he doesn’t care. He just sneers, raises his gun at the man and fires.
The shot cracks like a whip, snapping me out of the haze of bloodlust, the sounds of screaming nurses and patients filling my ears as the world rushes back in.
The smell of gunpowder and blood overpowers the usual hospital smell, and for a long moment, I just stare at the carnage.
The four dead men sprawled on the floor. The pools of blood puddling the linoleum. The patterns of blood splatter on the walls and doors.
Then my gaze finds Ringo. Tall. Muscles coiling beneath his vest, his arms weapons of their own.
He’s something else.
Something beautiful and vicious.
Something deadly.
The moment his glare snaps to me, I flinch, feeling the lethal threat behind his eyes.
