Page 60 of It Destroys Me
A stone fireplace was against the wall, and I hid myself against the side of it, using the reflection of the windows across the room to see him. He didn’t make his entrance for a while. He must have spotted Carson’s dead body left on the floor when he passed.
I felt no remorse.
“I may not be the perfect husband, but I’ve never killed a woman. Something that you can’t say, Theo.”
I still felt nothing. It was either her or me, and I wasn’t going to get killed just to be a gentleman. She’d given her heart to the wrong man, and that was the reason she was dead.
He entered the room with his rifle in his hands. “Stop running like a rat searching for a hole in the wall. Face me like a man?—”
I turned the corner and shot him, missing his head and neck and getting him in the shoulder.
He winced before he squeezed the trigger and blew the last of his rounds. I ducked back behind the fireplace and heard the click of the gun when the barrel came up empty. I rounded the corner and rushed him, aiming for his head this time.
He chucked the rifle at me then ducked behind the couch.
The gun smacked me right in the face and blood came from somewhere, but it didn’t stop me. “Now look who’s the fucking rat.” I kicked the couch and made it tip over on top of him. He crawled out before it landed on him and fired his handgun at me, hitting me right in the shoulder—the exact place where he’d stabbed me.
I yelled because it hurt like a motherfucker, the scar tissue ripped open as new trauma dug into the sensitive flesh.
He was quick and nimble, so he was on his feet fast. He ran straight at me, right into my gun, as I pulled the trigger.
I didn’t know if he took a bullet or not because he kept going. He hit me hard then grabbed my mask and tried to pull it off.
I punched him hard in the face, trying to crack the glass so he would die just like Carson.
He yanked at my mask and finally got it free.
I held my breath and punched him again. My gun had been knocked free at some point. His too. But he had a mask and I didn’t, and that meant I would die the second he punched me in the stomach.
That thought seemed to cross his mind because he rushed me, his entire body aimed for my core.
I dodged out of the way and hurled my entire body against the window. I felt the glass shatter at my weight, felt my body become airborne once I was in free fall. The streetlights were visible, the air was cold for a spring night, and I felt myself fly until I hit something.
It wasn’t concrete. If it had been concrete, my arms and legs would be broken.
A car alarm went off, and I knew I’d landed on one of the vehicles parked on the street.
“Theo!” Octavio ran to the car. “Move.” He tugged on my arm.
I looked up and saw Bolton stick his head out the window. He aimed his handgun down at me.
I rolled off the car and hit the concrete. Gunshots continued.
Octavio fired at the window and forced Bolton to retreat inside.
The other guys came out and helped me to my feet.
“Get him to the car,” Octavio said. “I’ll cover you.” He aimed his rifle and sprayed all the windows, keeping Bolton back so we could make our escape.
The Hummer pulled up, and I threw myself inside. I didn’t land on a seat, just against the floor so everyone could pile in.
Octavio sprayed his rifle as he backed up to the Hummer. He fired off all the rounds until the chamber was empty, and he jumped inside. He yanked the door shut, and then the driver took off, making us all lean to the opposite side.
Bolton must have found another rifle because he sprayed the Hummer with bullets as we made our exit.
When we rounded the corner, the bullets stopped.
I was still on the floor against the door, feeling the pain of the bullet in my shoulder and the aches in my body from falling twenty feet onto the roof of a car. But the pain that hurt most of all was my failure.