Page 95 of Needing Your Love
Kurt began to turn toward him, smoking pistol outstretched?—
My arm raised, free hand lifting to offer steadiness.
Feet once more rooted.
My choice made for me by a man bent on ending his misery.
I pulled the trigger, the boom deafening through the fog surrounding me.
Kurt slumped to the floor.
Shrieking flooded my ears, snapping reality into focus.
Footsteps pounded into the shop behind me.
I kept my gun trained on the unmoving man my bullet had torn into.
Damn you, Kurt.
Blood pooled beneath him, spreading outward. His glassy eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling.
Davidson rushed past me toward Stefen, who groaned a few curses while clutching his bleeding shoulder.
Sarah ran up the aisle, bypassed her husband, and fell to her knees beside Kurt, hands scrambling over his face. “Kurt! No! Please,no! Ididn’tchoose him! Ididn’t!” She sobbed, gathering his limp form against her heaving chest. “Don’t leave me!”
I lowered my gun.
Turned.
Jimmy curled in a fetal position, eyes hazed over.
For this man—I’d taken another’s life.
Gram and DJ would hate me, even though I expected a suicide note would be found somewhere on Kurt’s person or in his home.
It didn’t matter Kurt had chosen his fate. Sarah would want my blood.
Stefen would live, a piece-of-shit, abusive husband who was the cause of this drama, even if an affair had taken place behind his back.
And my sweet love…
I went to one knee beside Jimmy, smoothing hair off his forehead with a shaking hand. “Baby boy,” I whispered, trailing my knuckles over his pale cheek. “You’re safe, sweetheart. Everything is going to be okay.”
He blinked up at me, attempting to focus on my face.
“I’m here, Jimmy.
Recognition finally lit his haunted eyes, and a sob tore from deep in his chest.
Someone called for an ambulance behind us as creeping numbness from shock settled into my bones.
More heavy footfalls entered the door.
“Dad!”
“I’m fine,” I told Jamie even though I was anything but, setting my gun aside and gathering Jimmy up in my arms.
He clung to me as he used to as a young boy, burrowing his face into my neck. “Y-You’re here,” he choked out.
