Page 16 of My Three Enemies
Gray cocks his gun and steps closer to my father, ready to pull the trigger. Despite everything telling me not to, I run into the room and wave my hands in the air.
“Don't shoot him!” I shout, capturing everyone but Gray's attention. “Please, don't kill him. I know what he's done to your family is wrong, and he deserves to be punished for it. But he's my father.”
Jackson shakes his head and norrows his eyes, jabbing his gun angrily at my father. “You don't understand what he's done to us. And from what you've told us he's done to you, you should want this as much as we do!”
“It doesn't work that way,” I choke out, tears falling from my eyes. “I hate him, but I don't want him to die.”
“I promise I won't come after you anymore,” my father says, shaking as he tries to back away with his hands raised above his head. “We can consider this feud over. I'll leave you alone.”
Gray looks at me, then back tp my father. He sighs, reluctantly,.
“You swear you'll leave the woods alone?” he asks. “That neither you nor any of your fucking goons will step foot and our territory again?”
“I swear it.”
Gray, Dax, and Jackson exchange a look, and I know they’re silently communicating what they plan to do. All three of them slowly lower their guns, moving to put them in their waistbands. But before they have a chance to lower them all the way, my father does something incredibly stupid—he reaches for his own gun.
“Look out!” I scream. And it all unfolds in slow motion.
Gray stills as my father pulls his gun, cocks it, and points it right at Gray's head. But before his finger can pull the trigger, Gray’s gun fires a shot. He shoots my father in the stomach. My father drops his hands, the gun falling to the ground shortly after.
Dax lunges to snatch it up before my father can reach it. Without thinking, I rush over to my father and kneel on the ground beside him. Tears fall from my eyes, and even after everything he’s done to me, I can’t stop the onslaught.
“Emma,” he croaks, struggling to breathe. His eyes search my face in panic as his fingers touch the gushing wound on his stomach.
“It's going to be okay,” I lie. No one ever tells you what to say in situations like this, so I assume trying to make him feel better the right idea.
Dad shakes as I hold him in my arms, doing my best to comfort him in his final moments. But faster than I’m ready for, he exhales one final time and his entire body goes limp. I'm paralyzed. I don’t know what to do—how to move, if I should move at all.
It isn't until Gray kneels on the floor beside me, scooping me into his arms, that I look away from my father's face.
“It's okay, Emma. It's over.”
“You came for me,” I whimper, hardly able to comprehend my own words.
Gray carries me out of the house toward an old, tattered SUV and I hold on to him tight.“Of course we did,” he whispers softly to me. “You're our mate, after all.”
12
They broughtme back to the cabin in the woods. And even though it’d only been a few days, it felt like more of a home to me than the house I grew up in did after twenty years. None of the brothers said anything to me, and I was set down in Gray's bed. They stayed with me. All of us sat together, which was comforting in itself.
The second day after my father died, I was starting to feel better. I kept replaying those final moments over and over in my head, and the only thing that helped was watching stupid comedy movies in the living room with the brothers. Jackson cooked me whatever I wanted, and all of them made sure I was taken care of.
Today is the third day, and I feel better. I'm honestly surprised considering I watched my father die, but he was a true monster. The only love I have for him still is the love for someone who helped give me life. I have no fond memories to miss, no shared connections—nothing. I know now that my father was more ruthless than I ever thought. And today, I've realized how much better off I am without him.
Gray and I haven't talked about it, no doubt because he wants to give me as much space as he can, but I'm not angry with him. Not even a little. My father never would have stopped hunting them if they let him go. Gray did what he had to do to protect the people he loves. And I admire that.
I hop out of the shower and put on the fresh t-shirt Dax gave me, which is even bigger than the one from Gray. Weirdly enough, I've gotten used to wearing just these t-shirts around the cabin. It's comfortable. When my hair is mostly dried, I make my way into the living room and join the three of them on the couch.
“You're in high spirits,” Dax says when he sees a smile creep up on my face.
“I am,” I admit. “I feel like everything’s happened for a reason. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be.” I look between the three of them with warmth growing in my chest.
Gray stands, Dax and Jackson joining him. They all looking down at me as they try to find the words to say something. I stare at them expectantly, waiting for whatever it is they clearly want to address.
“There's something we still need to talk to you about,” Gray finally says, moving to sit at the coffee table to be at eye level with me.
“I assume this is about the whole… bear thing?” I laugh nervously. I didn't say anything to them about it the first two days because I was so preoccupied, so by the look on their faces they're surprised I put it together.
