Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“Help—someone help!” Warmth spreads across my chest. I peer down. Blood coats my shirt. It’s not me who’s been shot. It’s Christopher. “Oh God, help me—Ben. Ben!” With every horrid scream, the pain intensifies. I convulse and dry heave, choking on my tears.
“I’m right here.” I tremble in fear. Blinking rapidly, I fight to see over Christopher’s body. Ben is a few feet away, holding Rebecca on the ground. He strains his neck to look back at me, his frantic gaze locking on the red staining my clothes. “No, no, no, no. . . Fuck, Mak, no.” He hesitates but releases Rebecca and runs to me. “Fuck,” he cusses. “Fuck!” He pulls Christopher off me, searching for a bullet wound.
“It’s not me.” My voice cracks. I look at Christopher, who’s still not moving. Crimson soaks his shirt. “He—he—that bullet was meant for me—he stepped. . .” A sob tears up my throat. “Christopher—he saved my life.”
Ben reaches into his back pocket and brings his pocket knife out to cut the wire around my wrists. “Are you sure it’s not—”
“No. It’s all his—Oh God.”
“Mak, He needs help. Can I—are you okay—”
“I’m fine. Help him.” He’s hesitant to leave me.
“Christopher,” he calls his name, searching for the entry point. When he lifts back his dress shirt, Christopher groans, finally showing signs of life. “This is going to hurt, but I need to put pressure on it.” Ben pulls back, ripping off his shirt and placing it against his wound. “There’s an exit hole, so that’s a good sign. Christopher, stay with me.”
Blood gushes from his abdomen. I shake my head as tears pour down my face. Christopher’s pale. He’s gone still again. How could she do this? I look over at her, my next breath lodging in my throat. “Ben, she’s gone.”
He cocks his head toward where he left Rebecca. “Fuck. We gotta hurry.” He applies more pressure, and Christopher coughs, then howls. “Mak. . . I have to call for help. You need to place your hands over my shirt and press down.”
I nod and lean forward, the stabbing in my side excruciating. I cry out as the pain comes flooding back.
“Fuck, you said you weren’t hurt!” he spits out, panic leeching the color from his face.
“It’s fine—”
“Dammit, it’s not fine! Where are you hurt?”
“Ben, please.” His eyes bore into mine, but I’m not the one who needs rescuing right now.
“Can you hold this down?”
“Yes.” I fight through the agony and press my hands down on the towel. It’s too painful, and I heave. Ben cusses and reaches into his pocket for his phone. “Fuck. Take my phone. Dial the last number I called.” I do so while he replaces his hands against Christopher’s wound. I struggle to hold it because I’m shaking too bad. I hit the number and press the speaker button. A man answers. “Ben—”
“Steve, it’s bad. I need an ambulance now.”
“Dammit, Ben. I told you to wait ’til the local authorities arrived.”
“I told you that wasn’t an option! Christopher’s been shot. Makayla’s injured. Rebecca is. . .” His eyes trail to where he left her.
I start to stand. “I’ll go find her—”
“Like hell you will,” he snaps at me. “Steve, Rebecca’s gone.”
“A team is pulling up right now. Sit tight. We got you, son.”
I end the call and look at Ben pressing on the bullet wound. He stares back, unable to hide his worry. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
My eyes well up, and I shake my head. “You don’t know that. He could—she’s out there. She could get away and—”
Mayhem rings through the air as police flood the room. Stern voices. Orders being yelled. I squeeze my eyes closed. Two hands grab at me and a scream tears from my throat.
“Baby, it’s me. It’s okay. You’re okay.” At the sound of Ben’s voice, I crumble. My body gives out, and I collapse. The pain is so severe, it’s numbing. “Mak, open your eyes,” Ben pleads. I can’t. I’m too afraid of what I’ll see. “Baby, I need to see your eyes. Please…” His voice is laced with concern.
I slowly open them. Police are everywhere. One kneels next to us. “My name is Detective Jones, you two okay?”
“Jesus, what happened?” Another man kneels beside us, and I tuck my face into Ben’s chest.
“Rebecca shot him. She tried to shoot Makayla, but he threw himself in front of her.”
“We need a medic!” the detective yells. His hand presses down on my shoulder. “You’re okay. It’s over.”
“Jesus, she’s bleeding. Makayla, is this your blood or his?”
I blink, facing the man. I shake my head. “No, he’s shot. He needs help—ahhh!” I howl when Ben grabs at my waist.
“Fuck.”
“Makayla are you injured in any way?” the man asks.
“My ribs. I think they’re broken.”
The man nods and cocks his head. “Where’s that medic?” Commotion outside steals his attention. Two shots can be heard from the front of the house. The detective pulls out his radio. “What’s going on out there?”