The sound is deafening.
The shot so close to my ear.
A red tear rips through Nero’s sleeve, but it doesn’t stop him.
The hand in my hair releases me with a shove, and I lose sight of Nero when my exhausted limbs give out and I fall to the floor, landing on my hands and knees.
There’s a second shot.
And a third.
I glance up from the ground. And a part of my soul slips away when I see one of the bullets slam into Nero’s chest.
He staggers a step.
I try to crawl toward him when my fingers connect with something hard.
I glance down, and find the gun that Nero tossed.
Without thinking further, I grip the heavy weapon between my hands. The tape around my wrists making it impossible to mimic the way I’ve seen Nero do it.
“Why won’t you just die!” Mikhail screams.
Nearly blind with tears, I twist and drop my butt to the ground, raising the gun.
I don’t blink. Or aim. I just pull the trigger.
And a split second later, dark red arterial blood sprays from Mikhail’s neck.
He drops his own gun, both of his hands reaching up to slap at the hole in his throat. But blood pours from between his fingers.
He drops to his knees, and I uncurl my fingers.
Before the gun can fall in my lap, Nero is there. Catching it in one hand, the other pressing gently against my cheek.
“I’m here.” Nero’s voice is soft.
“Nero.” My voice shakes. “I killed him. I k-killed him.”
His thumb brushes over my cheek, then he stands, turns around, and squeezes the trigger. Over and over, he fires the gun until he’s emptied the clip into Mikhail’s slumped form.
Nero slides the gun into the holster at his side, then crouches back at my side. “I killed him.”
I shake my head, but he cups my face with his large hands, holding my gaze on him.
“I killed him,” he repeats. “I did that. Not you.” He kisses me so, so gently. “Not my Sweet Girl.”
Love fills my eyes.
Nero kisses me once more, before his hands drop from my face.
I feel a tug at my wrists, before they flop free at my sides, the tape torn away.
“Come on, Baby.” He brushes back my hair. “My courageous girl.” He touches my lips with his. “We gotta go.” Nero’s words are soft, but urgent.
I try to get up, but my body won’t cooperate. It’s done. So done with everything.
“Shh,” Nero shushes me. I hadn’t even realized I was crying. But at this point, it feels like I’m crying as often as I’m not, so I don’t even try to stop. “I’m going to pick you up now.”
He slides his arms under me.
I struggle but manage to wrap my arms around his neck, doing my best to hold on.
As he lifts, I try to stop my whimper of pain, but it still escapes.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Nero whispers it, again and again, as he clutches me to his chest and carries me out of the room.
My eyelids are so heavy.
I try to keep them open, but they keep closing.
“You’re okay.” Nero kisses my forehead. “You’re okay, Baby.” He hugs me tighter. “I see you’re wearing my sweatshirt. Just couldn’t stay away from my things, could you.” He kisses me again. “If I could fit in your clothes, I’d wear them too. Wouldn’t care if it was covered in yellow flowers, I’d sleep in it every night I was away from you.”
There are other voices now. All male. And I try to look around, try to understand what’s happened, but the first thing I see is a large splatter of blood marking a wall.
Squeezing my eyes back shut, I decide I don’t need to see.
“It’s all my fault.” I nearly choke on the words, needing to get them out.
“No.” Nero hugs me tighter. “It’s not. This whole household was living on borrowed time. The world will be better without them.”
Nero shifts, stepping through a doorway sideways.
“Keys in?” He calls the question to someone I can’t see.
“Yeah, Boss.”
“Good, open the passenger door. I’m driving her home in this one.” I hear a car door open. “Tell everyone to leave.”
“You got it.”
Nero sets me on the seat, taking the time to buckle me in.
Before he closes the door, I hear him give one last command.
“Torch it.”
