Page 146 of A Breath of Life
That was when I noticed the industrial slide bolts on the upper edges of the frame, locking the door in place and another in the middle, holding them together. As I wiggled them from their slots, the sound of angry men and running feet grew louder. Bolts undone, I tried the door again, but it still didn’t budge.
“For fuck’s sake.”
Two more slide bolts framed the bottom edges of the doors. I crouched and tried to work them free, but they resisted, tight in their slots. It required me to wiggle them back and forth several times before they came free.
On my feet, I shoved the door. It opened—the warm September air a relief I didn’t think I would ever feel again. The concrete platform and descending stairs were painted in blue and red swirling lights from the half dozen police cars parked along the street.
We’d made it. I turned back to collect my boyfriend, only to discover him out of reach. He’d moved halfway down the hall. Tallus waited near the corner in a fighting stance, prepared for battle.
My heart lurched into my throat.
“Tallus! Move it.” I ran toward him and managed to snag the strap of a suspender as the Consigliere rounded the corner, followed by two other men.
A grin grew so wide on the asshole’s face his teeth showed. “And there he is. I told you we’d find him.”
I tugged again at Tallus’s suspender strap, but he planted his feet and pointed the knife at the Consigliere. “Rot in hell, Bowser. You’re about to die. Diem, let me go. I’m ready.”
“Tallus.” I looped an arm around his middle and heaved him off the ground.
He bucked and protested as the Consigliere chuckled. “What did I tell you would happen if you didn’t follow our rules, Mr. Krause?”
I backed away, afraid to turn my back on them. Tallus hollered for me to put him down.
The Consigliere’s words screamed inside my head. My first thought was of Nana, but I remembered the Bishop’s phone in my pocket. As I considered the million other ways this guy might have to contact his phony nurse and end Nana’s life, the Consigliere stepped aside.
One of the other men drew a gun, aimed at Tallus, and before I could react, fired.
It happened so quickly that my mind took a beat to register.
Only when Tallus, my fearless, reckless warrior whose drug-addled brain had given him courage and stamina and stupidity, jerked with the impact of a bullet, did the pieces click. I stumbled with him still in my arms, the force of the shot throwing me off-balance.
A roaring, inhuman cry echoed in the close hallway and vibrated the air. It was my cry. Transformed by a level of pain I’d never felt in my life, a curtain of red descended over my vision. Liquid hot rage burned in my veins, in my core. My heart fucking shattered.
Tallus no longer fought. He’d gone still, dead weight in my arms.
The men fled in the other direction.
Part of me wanted to chase them down and break their necks. Shred the skin off their bones. Show them the true essence of pain. Torture them until they begged me to put them out of their misery.
But Tallus. Tallus, Tallus, Tallus.
Oh god, Tallus. Oh shit. Oh no.
No, no, no, no!
He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t fucking moving.
“Tallus. Tallus, no. Tallus.”
I lay him gently on the ground. Wide, panicked eyes sought me out. His blue lips made the motion of gasping, but each time he tried to suck air, his body resisted. He moved a trembling hand to his chest and raked his fingers over the fabric of his shirt, gulping desperately to no avail.
A lung. The bullet must have pierced a lung.
“Breathe, Tallus. Come on. Breathe.” I fumbled the Bishop’s phone from my pocket and thanked god it didn’t require a password to make an emergency call. My hands shook so badly I could barely make them function enough to dial 9-1-1.
I put it on speaker and dropped it beside me, pressing my hands over his, knowing subconsciously I had to stop the…
Wait.
