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Using the distraction to my advantage, I sprinted toward him, practically leaping over Charlie to grab Tyler and pull him away from her and her sister. Tyler stumbled, still in obvious pain—pain any man would understand—but he tried to fight me nonetheless.
You could tell he wasn’t a fighter, though. He wasn’t good on his feet. He didn’t know how to block blows or unleash his own fury on me. I hit him square in the stomach, causing his lungs to gasp, and though he tried to hit me back, it was a futile effort on his part. He was no match for me.
I was seconds from wrapping my hands around his neck and snapping it when Charlie’s voice rang out: “Stop.”
Both Tyler and I stopped, my hands fists on his shirt and his hands fists on mine. We both turned our heads toward Charlie, finding that she’d picked up gun and now pointed it towards us.
Had she ever held a gun before? It almost looked like a toy in her hands.
“Brett, get away from him,” Charlie advised, not moving an inch from where she knelt on the floor. Her small finger hooked around the trigger.
As Tyler sniggered, I stepped away from him, putting enough distance between us that there was no way she could hit me while aiming for him. Honestly, I didn’t know how good her aim would be, given the fact that I was pretty sure she’d never shot a gun in her life. Couldn’t be too careful.
“Oh, come on,” Tyler said, smirking at her. “Like you’re going to shoot me.”
Charlie’s eyebrows twitched, almost like she was asking,I won’t? Are you sure about that?But she said not a single word. She didn’t need to. Proving herself to Tyler wasn’t on her agenda—and neither was giving him a way out, because what she did next ended the whole thing.
She pulled the trigger.
A loud bang erupted in the basement as the bullet soared through the air. It landed in Tyler’s chest, and the force of the bullet made him step back. His head bent, and he looked down at his chest, at the way a wetness seeped through his shirt around the new hole in the fabric.
“You bitch,” Tyler wheezed, a trail of blood oozing out of the corner of his mouth. His lung had definitely gotten shot, and now that blood was bubbling up his throat when he breathed. “You—” He started toward her, but Charlie was ready. She shot him again, this time in his gut.
Two bullets was what took Tyler down, and he fell to his knees, grasping at the new wound in his stomach before collapsing back and landing on his spine. He stared at the ceiling, sputtering, “It wasn’t supposed to be…” I assumed he was going to finish,Like this, but he couldn’t.
Because the fucker was dead.
He breathed his last breath, eyes dilating, and he pissed himself, his shorts darkening with the piss, mirroring what his shirt did with the blood.
I rushed toward Charlie, kneeling down before her and trying to take the gun from her hand, but she pushed me off. Her brown eyes locked with mine, and I knew for a fact she wasn’t going to let me take that gun from her.
“It was time I handled my own monster,” she said.
I smoothed down her hair and leaned closer, pressing my lips against her forehead as I whispered, “You did great, Charlie. So great.” I kissed her forehead again. “Just promise me you won’t ever punch me in the balls like that.” When I pulled back from her, I grinned.
“Don’t do anything to piss me off,” she deadpanned.
I crossed over my heart. “Scout’s pledge. Or is it Scout’s honor?”
To our left, Claire moaned. The other kidnapped woman was starting to wake.
“Go,” Charlie whispered. “You need to go before she sees you.”
She was right. The police would get called, and we couldn’t take a chance of them recognizing me. I kissed her again—on the lips, this time—before standing. I hurried to the door, and when I reached it, I tossed a single glance at her over my shoulder. She gave me a nod, telling me to go.
Who knew that, in the end, Charlie wouldn’t need me to save her? Who knew that she’d end up saving herself from the very same man she’d brought me into her life to kill?
My killer Charlie. It had a nice ring to it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven – Charlie
Flashing lights, red and blue, filled the dark night as I was led out of the abandoned house. Claire was being wheeled out; she couldn’t quite walk right. It was clear she’d been drugged. She was still semi out of it, and they wanted to take her to the hospital to run some tests. I was going with her, thanks to the head wound on the back of my skull; paramedics said I could have a concussion.
I mean, my head did hurt like a bitch, but that didn’t mean anything, right?
I’d called nine-one-one on Tyler’s phone, since he was the only one who had a phone. I had to dig that phone out of his pocket with shaking fingers and use his motionless face to unlock it, while Claire crawled to his side and wept over him.
She didn’t know the full story. Even when she looked at me, I could see her pupils were extremely dilated, and I hoped that meant she didn’t remember anything.
