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As we head through the house, the smell of smoke becomes worse, and I know our time to get Hudson out of here is limited. With every passing second, I begin to panic, especially when smoke actually comes into view. But when we approach the kitchen and Rossi signals for me to be quiet, I know we’re close to finding him.
“You and that slut are going to die,” Enzo says, though his voice doesn’t have the same level of confidence as usual. In fact, he sounds like he’s in pain. “She will always belong to me, Hercules. She is Romano property now. And she will die as Romano property.”
“Call her a slut again, and I’ll make sure your brain is splattered all over that fucking wall!” Hudson hisses.
When we peer around the corner, I take in the sight of a guard I’ve never seen holding Hudson with a gun pressed to the back of his head while Hudson’s gun is drawn toward Enzo.
“The second you pull that trigger, he’s going to put a bullet in your skull,” Enzo says matter-of-factly.
“It’s over, Enzo,” Hudson huffs out. “You’re fucking finished.”
Enzo only smirks at this before giving his guard the slightest nod. When I see his finger push harder on the trigger … something comes over me, but when I draw my gun to shoot the man before he can shoot Hudson, a loud bang goes off next to me as Rossi fires his. The man keels over, but when his gun falls to the floor, Enzo grabs it.
“Say good night, motherfucker.” Enzo points the gun at Hudson’s chest, pulling the trigger.
Before I have time to think, I shoot Enzo in the chest over and over again. For a split second, his eyes look down at his wounds, and his hands go to his chest. Then, he sinks to the floor. His eyes are wide open as he takes his last breath. Smoke slowly filters in through the kitchen, and the smoke detectors all begin to wail.
I killed someone. I’m a murderer.
Rossi rushes toward Hudson, and when I look at him, everything begins to spin. Because I see the bloodstain on his shirt and I know right away that it’s not Enzo’s blood.
It’s Hudson’s. Because he’s been shot.
I look down, putting my hand on the bloodstain as it spreads further across my chest, soaking my white shirt before I fall onto my back. Everything becomes white noise ringing in my ears.
I’ve been shot at many times. I’ve been nicked or grazed with a bullet too. That hurt like a bitch. A mean, bitter, coldhearted bitch. But this? This is different.
I don’t feel anything. Well, besides one thing.
Death. This feels like death. At least what I imagine dying feels like.
It should hurt.
Why doesn’t it hurt?
The fact that it doesn’t hurt makes me thankful in a way. Because I know when she died … she didn’t feel a thing—that’s what I keep telling myself anyway. But how can I know for sure? They say time heals all wounds. But six years later, I feel like I’m just reliving that same day.
I was never going to win this war. That’s something I’ve realized in the past few seconds. Though I think somewhere deep down, I’ve known it all along. With people as powerful as the Romano family or Beckett Benson, I was never meant to come out on top. But the further I got into this quest, the more wrapped up I became in it all. I became obsessed with being the hero. No, being her hero.
Briar James made this entire mission one thousand times more complicated than it was supposed to be. All by just being here. And by being herself.
Like tree roots in the ground, spreading their way through the soil, that’s how this world is. Every deal I’ve witnessed, every crime I’ve seen committed, has brought me further and further in. And now? I’m no better than the rest of these cocksuckers. Why? Because I stood by so many of them. Not stopping them because I truly didn’t think I had the power to do so.
Take an already-impossible task and then add her. Briar came into the mix, and I knew this was a suicide mission for me. Because despite how fucked up things have become, I couldn’t leave her.
The room begins to spin, and my vision blurs. And as much as I want to fight the darkness that so badly wants to take over and try to stay alert, I begin to fall headfirst into the land of nothingness. Drifting off into a serene space, and I’ll admit, it feels nice. Because right now, I’m so fucking tired. And maybe, if I let myself go … I’ll see her again.
My body suddenly feels heavy, like I’m stuck here in this spot. I feel like I weigh one million pounds as I slowly begin sinking into the floor. A warm, tingly feeling spreads across my chest.
Blood. That must be blood.
“Hudson!” my sweet Dove screams, reminding me she’s here. “Hudson! Wake up!”
I feel so torn. On one hand, she’s here. And I don’t want to leave her. On the other hand … I know my first true love is waiting for me. I’ve betrayed her by falling for Briar James, but I think she’ll forgive me. I hope so anyway.
Her voice isn’t calming like it usually is. Instead, she sounds scared. No, traumatized. I try to open my eyes to assure her I’m okay, even though I know I’m not, but it’s useless. And the more I panic, scared that I’ll never see her beautiful face again, the further I fall into this pit of nothingness.
I should have saved her from this place. And from these awful people. We could be on a beach right now. Sitting in the sand while she works in her sketchbook with those fancy colored pencils I got her, sipping a girlie drink. I imagine her in a bikini, her hair blowing in the breeze as she runs toward the ocean. I can hear her laughing, even though I know it’s all in my mind. Still, somehow, the thought of her happy keeps me calm, knowing I’m about to die.
