Unsuitable (Page 88)

Damien yanks the champagne bottle from my hand and tosses it to the floor behind him. Eyes on Kas, he sits on my stomach, pinning me to the floor. “Well, if this isn’t just fucking peachy. The boyfriend’s here. Come on in, Kas. Join the party.” He waves his gun in Kas’s direction. “You know the rules. You’ve been to one of my parties before. You get to sit and watch while I fuck your girlfriend. And, when I’m done with her, I get to finish you off, like I should’ve done seven years ago.”

An animalistic sound tears from Kas.

And then everything goes crazy.

Kas lunges the short distance across the room, toward Damien. He moves so fast that Damien doesn’t even get a chance to lift his gun to point it at Kas.

Kas’s body connects with Damien’s with a loud thud. The gun flies from Damien’s hand. They both hit the floor.

Now free, I don’t waste a second. I scramble up to my knees, wildly scanning the floor for the gun, while Kas fights Damien, barely a foot away from me.

My eyes lock on the gun. It’s on the floor, by the foot of the armchair.

I dive for it. Hand curling around the barrel, I pick it up. Swinging around to face them, I push up to my knees, and in my trembling hand, I hold the gun properly. I raise it and point the gun at the men fighting on the floor.

I curl my finger around the trigger. “Kas,” I rasp out, my voice hoarse.

He doesn’t hear me. He’s too busy punching Damien in the face.

“Kas! Move!” I scream.

Kas’s head jerks back and around, eyes swinging to mine.

It’s a mistake on my part because Damien takes full advantage of his distraction and punches Kas in the side of his head, his fist connecting with Kas’s temple.

Kas slumps to the floor.

“No!” I cry out.

Damien’s eyes come to me. And that’s when he sees I have the gun in my hand.

Slowly, Damien gets to his feet. “And what do you think you’re going to do with that, little girl?” he mocks.

My heart is pounding. Panic and fear and adrenaline are burning through me like jet fuel, making my hands shake.

Damien tips his head to the side, his eyes appraising me.

I know he’s weighing whether or not I have the guts to pull the trigger.

Can I? Can I really do it?

I pull this trigger, and it’s game over for me. I will never get Jesse back. I’ll go back to prison.

Damien’s lips curl up into a sick, twisted smile, and I know he’s made his decision.

The choice is no longer mine.

I’m so sorry, Jesse.

Damien lunges for me.

And I pull the trigger.

Forty

I’d never put much thought into what it would be like to shoot someone.

I mean, it’s not like you ever think you’re going to be faced with the day when you have a gun in your hand, and a homicidal maniac is trying to kill you, so it’s going to be either him or you.

So, of course, it’s going to be you.

But pulling that trigger is nothing like you’d think it would be.

It’s not all glory where the bad guy flies backward, and I stand here, like a badass.

No. I’m the one who ends up on my ass. The kickback from the gun sends me flying backward.

And then, for what seems like the longest time, everything just stops.

The world goes kind of hazy, and it’s like the sound has been switched off.

The only thing I can hear is the sound of my own racing heart, pounding against my chest.

Then, it’s like the world slowly comes back into focus. And the volume is turned back up to loud. Every noise is being picked up by my ears. The sounds of traffic outside. The rattling of the windows as the wind blows against it.

Time restarts.

I’m on the floor with a gun in my hand.

And Damien Doyle is still on his feet, staring down at me in shock.

His hand is pressed to his stomach, blood seeping from the hole I just put in him.

“You fucking shot me,” he says the words like he can’t actually believe that I shot him.

Honestly, neither can I.

Body shaking, I manage to get to my feet. The whole time, I keep my eyes fixed on Damien and keep the gun pointed in his direction.

When I’m on my feet, I quickly glance at Kas on the floor and see that he’s slowly coming around.

Eyes moving back over, past Damien, I look at Cece.

She’s on the floor, sitting awkwardly against the base of the sofa, like she’s wriggled her way off the sofa to try to get to us. But she’s okay.

I exhale with relief.

My eyes come back to Damien, whose eyes are fixed on his blood-soaked hands.

I take a step closer to him, and his eyes lift to mine. He looks afraid.

Power and adrenaline surge through me, the likes of nothing I’ve ever felt before.

It’s like someone else has stepped into my body and taken me over.

Gun raised and pointed at Damien, I take another step closer, putting only a few feet between us.

Fear fills his eyes. “You-you don’t have to do this,” he stammers, stumbling back a step. “We-we can figure something out. I have mo-money.”

“Fuck you, Damien Doyle, you murderous sick fuck. Fuck you to hell and back.” I take a step closer and brace my feet apart.

I take aim.

“That first bullet was for me,” I say in a voice that I barely recognize. “This one is for Haley.”

Then, I pull the trigger.

The bullet rips from the gun and slams into his chest.

He falls back this time, staggering. His eyes lock with mine.

I stop breathing.

Then, he drops to the floor.

Silence. For what seems like forever.