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Chaos erupts around us, time both slowing down and accelerating.
Another explosion rocks the church, a deafening roar that sends me crashing to the floor. Dust and debris fill the air, turning the beautiful sanctuary into a chaotic hellscape. My ears ring, and I struggle to catch my breath, heart pounding like a wild drum.
I lose sight of my best friend, so I turn around, trying to spot her.
“Angelica!” I scream, my voice barely cutting through the noise. I push myself up on trembling arms, glancing around frantically. My vision is hazy from the debris, but I see her white dress, now marred with soot, as she stumbles near the altar. Relief floods through me—she’s alive.
Right then, a third deafening bang rips through the air, shattering the windows.
“Angelica?” I shout again, blinded by dust and panic.
I scramble to my feet, trying to stay low, my eyes darting from Angelica to the broken glass and the fallen pews. I have to protect her.
I feel a touch on my shoulder, and I freeze, afraid that it’s one of the attackers trying to claim me.
“Aria. You have to take cover,” a voice says from behind me. I don’t really recognize it, but when I face it, I remember the man from the club. Dion’s friend.
He grabs my arm and tries to lead me to the back of the altar, but I tug away. “I can’t leave without Ang,” I yell through the loud noises. Gunshots are ringing through the air, and I have no idea where they’re coming from, but my mind is focused on one thing only.
“Please, Aria. I have to get you all to safety,” the man pleads.
“Xander is it?” I ask.
“Yes,” he replies.
“I don’t know who told you I needed saving, but I don’t want your fucking help,” I snap, not caring that I’m being a total bitch. I know his intentions are in the right place, but I refuse to be paralyzed by terror and ditch my best friend.
A movement catches my eye at the far end of the hall. Dion. He stands there, shrouded in the haze of dust, holding a massive rifle. He looks like a grim reaper, cloaked in darkness. My breath catches in my throat—he’s terrifying, and yet, in some twisted way, mesmerizing.
I force myself to move, ignoring the warning shouts from Gianis and the others, and ducking behind an overturned pew. The wood is splintered, rough against my palms as I steady myself. Every instinct screams at me to run, but I can’t take my eyes off Dion.
When I finally do, I spot Angelica frantically looking for Evander, calling out his name.
I edge closer to the front of the church, my breath coming in shallow gasps.
My body is tense with fear and adrenaline. I glance back at Dion—he hasn’t moved, but his eyes are scanning the hall, predatory and sharp.
Then, everything happens in slow motion.
A masked man points his rifle at Angelica.
My head whips around. She hasn’t noticed him. I bite my lip, stopping myself from calling out, the taste of blood sharp in my mouth. I have to get to her.
The man raises his weapon further and takes aim. Without hesitation, I propel myself forward. My muscles protest, but I can’t stop. My eyes catch Dion and our gazes lock for a split second. A tremor of fear ripples through his frame when he realizes what I’m doing.
I position myself between Angelica and the attacker, my heart beating so hard it feels like it’s going to burst.
The shot rings out like a thunderclap, making time feel like a stretch.
The moment the bullet hits me, a searing pain travels through my body, momentarily overridden by adrenaline.
Time seems to slow. Memories flash before my eyes, snippets of my life, regrets, and moments of joy. I think I fall to the ground.
I strain to distinguish the voices calling out to me, urging me to hold on, to stay with them. But as darkness creeps in, enveloping me, a strange sense of peace overtakes me, knowing that I may have finally found solace. Perhaps this is the best thing that could happen to me and those around me. I won’t be a burden or a nuisance anymore. I won’t put my loved ones at risk or feel the shame of my mistakes.
And the last thought before I succumb to darkness is of Dion’s beautiful, green eyes.
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