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I couldn’t see him through my tears. Even though I kept shaking my head, it didn’t stop him from pulling my hand, and the knife, closer to his abdomen.
“I love you,” he said softly, nodding in encouragement.
There really was no alternative. In the span of seconds, my mind churned through hundreds of scenarios, as his presumably had as well. This was it. This was the only way one of us would make it through and make sure the other was avenged.
“I love you,” I whispered against his lips. I kissed him gently, then harder in the hopes of distracting him as the blade pierced his abdomen.
He inhaled sharply and exhaled a painful gasp. The hand guiding mine tightened, while his other clung to my shoulder.
“Again,” Gianna commanded.
“No!” Lorelei yelled.
“Zip it,” Gianna snarled at her before turning to me. “Again. In fact, make it five, just like my dad got. If Mr. Welles can dish it out, he should be able to take it.”
Leander’s eyes were already glassy, but he held my gaze and nodded.
Swallowing hard, I pulled the knife out. Before he had time to feel the full agony of its removal, I plunged it into him.
Biting his lip, he leaned against me and buried his face into my chest.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, holding him tightly as I sunk it into him again.
Blood poured to the ground, splattering like crimson paint over our shoes. Never before had the smell of copper and salt nauseated me so much.
His grip on my jacket started to falter and I prayed I had the strength to keep him upright. Every agonized gasp he took was like I was stabbing myself. Every ragged breath that escaped him, escaped me. He refused to scream or make any noise beyond an anguished whimper now and again.
After the fifth stab, I left the knife in. What good it would do, I didn’t know. It was like putting a bandaid on a gunshot wound at this point. Who cared if one wound was stoppered while four others bled freely?
Lorelei sobbed behind us, but I couldn’t afford to think about her and the hell that was coming her way. There would be plenty of time for that later.
Leander shook violently as I lowered him to the floor. Pressing his own hands over the wounds, I hoped he didn’t realize how badly mine were trembling. He was counting on me to be the strong one. I couldn’t lose it now, even as the blood oozed out between his fingers. With each passing second, his pale skin turned more ashen beneath the beads of sweat dotting his forehead.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, cradling him against me.
His eyes drifted closed, his breathing so shallow it was practically non-existent. The blood continued to drain out of him, the sheen on his black suit spreading by the minute. The hand furthest away from me fell limp, another rush of blood chasing after it from the uncovered wound.
I bit back a scream, refusing to give either of those bitches the satisfaction.
“Aw, isn’t that sweet,” Gianna said with a laugh, snapping her fingers at her oversized dogs. “It’s like a fairytale. Except no singing and way more blood.”
Rough hands seized each of my arms, ripping me away from Leander. They dragged me backward, streaking his blood across the concrete, before they finally lifted me to my feet. I didn’t fight them. All I could do was stare at the love of my life and the crimson puddle seeping out beneath him in an ever-widening radius.
“Go on. Get out of here. Both of you. Before I change my fucking mind,” Gianna said, waving Lorelei and I away with a flick of her wrist.
Instead of leaving, Lorelei darted forward, shoving past Gianna. She fell to her knees next to Leander and immediately got to work, stuffing her wadded up coat under his feet. Fabric ripped, hers and his. She tore open his shirt and rent the sleeves off her own blouse as makeshift gauze.
“You’re not doing this to me again!” Lorelei said, pressing the fabric over his wounds.
A gunshot rang out. Lorelei screamed.
I didn’t even turn my head. The emotions inside of me died in the wake of that blast, flicked off like a light switch.
Throwing off the hands holding me, my right fist flew outward, aimed at the man on my left. It landed directly in the center of his windpipe. He gasped and clutched his throat, dropping to his knees and out of my way.
The second guy grabbed the back of my jacket and slung me around like a rag doll. I crash-landed against a shipping crate. He advanced swiftly, kicking me in the abdomen. Luckily I had enough time to exhale, absorbing most of the blow even though it still hurt like a son of a bitch. I caught his boot on the second kick, slowing most of the force, and yanked it forward. He lost his footing and toppled over, landing hard on the concrete.
I lunged at him while he was still flat on his back, clamping my fingers around either side of his trachea. He tried to push my hands away, gasping and gurgling, but I dug my fingers in deeper until the cartilage crunched and collapsed. I would have torn the whole thing out, except for the boot that kicked me away from the dead man.
