“I love you,” I tell him, needing him to know, not sure if I’ll ever get another chance.
Jonathan’s tongue touches my neck, mocking my declaration.
Rocco surges forward, but the knife against my neck pushes harder, forcing his feet to stop.
Pulling the blade along the delicate skin, he rips at my skin, letting blood trickle down my neck.
I whimper in pain, the warmth of my blood making me shake.
“Control.” Rocco stares into me.
“Control,” I repeat.
Jonathan has no control. He’s lost to his need for revenge. He’s not fighting for anything. He’s fighting with the hate within him.
Too consumed with himself, Jonathan lifts the blade from my neck, licking my blood in warning.
“Elbow, beauty.”
As tired as my body is, I lift my arm, bending at the elbow to slam it backward as hard as I possibly can.
Grip loosened, I dive away from my captor, lunging toward the gun discarded at my mother’s feet.
He’s right on my heels, his heavy footfalls thrumming against the ground in warning. I flip my body, gun aimed straight at his heart.
A wicked smile on his face, Jonathan pauses, hands in the air in a mocking surrender. He doesn’t think I’m capable. He doesn’t think willing.
“Don’t come any closer,” I scream.
“You wouldn’t have the fucking balls,” he.” He spits on me.
I resist the urge to wipe the taint of his saliva off my face. Gun still aimed, my arm shakes with the extension.
“Do it.” He steps closer. “I fucking dare you, bitch.”
Thick, heavy sobs fall from my mouth. I can’t make them stop.
“I HATE YOU!” I shriek. “I HATE YOU!”
Everything he’d put me through. The pain he’d caused me. The sleepless nights and the need he’d fed for me to cut myself. The liberty he took on everything in my life. All of it. Every last thing comes crashing down on me like a tsunami I can’t escape.
I’m gasping for air.
I can’t see, the tears falling from my face thick like the blood he’d made me spill over and over again.
I can’t move, save for my constant shaking. I was paralyzed again because of him.
I don’t hear Rocco’s approach, hell I don’t even feel him until his arms are wrapped tightly around me.
“Give me the gun, beauty.”
“No,” I sob. “He needs to die. I w-want hi-imm t-t-to d-die.”
Only, I can’t bring myself to do it. He was right. I’m not capable. I hate him, yet the thought of killing him, of taking his life is too much for me to comprehend.
“Ain’t worth the guilt of your conscience, Cami.”
I shift away as he moves his arm along mine. The indecision coursing through me like a bass drum.
Kill him, it commands.
Don’t, it pleads.
“Trust me. Don’t let him fuck with you anymore. You’re stronger than he is. Look at him, Cami. He’s at your fuckin’ mercy. Yours.” His hand rested atop of mine on the gun, takes the opportunity, removing it from my grip and I fall into him.
Hands balled against his strong chest, my tears soak through his shirt almost immediately. I can’t hear anything with the exception of the broken wails coming from me.
“The two of you deserve one another,” Jonathan—still standing only a few feet from us—spits. “Fucking pathetic. Just know, Shay, you have my slopp—”
The three bullets penetrate his chest in quick succession.
Bang.
Bang.
Fucking BANG.
Cries catching in my throat in shock, I watch him fall to the ground. The thud as he hits the concrete is not at all different to the sound my mother made.
“Never said he wasn’t gonna die,” Rocco murmurs. “Just didn’t want you carryin’ that burden with you for eternity. “
I look up at him through glassy eyes. “What about you?”
“Baby, taking that piece of shit’s life ain’t a stain on my conscience, it’s a gold fuckin’ star.”
Hands stretching up to his face, I need to feel him. “You came for me.”
“Never a doubt, Cami. I told you, I fucking bleed for you.”
“I bleed for you, too.”
His eyes scan my face. “I wish that wasn’t so fuckin’ literal. Look at you.”
His fingers gently trace every cut and bruise across my face.
Not being able to take it anymore, I pull him downward, needing his lips on mine.
His kiss is hesitant. Dictated by fear and restraint.
“Kiss me,” I beg.
One hand threading through my hair, the other grabs hold of my ass, pulling me into him. Still, the kiss is tender. Too fucking tender.
Pulling back, I stare into his panic-stricken eyes.
“I just almost fucking died. Let me feel alive, Rocco. Kiss. Me.”
Something snaps deep within him and his lips slam onto mine.
If he tastes the blood dripping from the split in my lip, it only fires him up more. He can’t get enough of me. Lips wide enough to devour me, we become consumed by one another.
Our tongues clash. Our lips collide. And our hearts find a rhythm.
It’s done, it beats.
The end, it thumps.
With you, it pounds.
With. You.
Pulling apart reluctantly, we stare at one another for a long beat.
“I’m so fuckin’ mad that you put yourself in this position.”
“I’d do it a hundred times over, Rocco,” I whisper, hoping like hell he believes me. “I was not going to let my toxic mother or inhumane ex play with your kids’ lives like that. If my life was lost to save theirs, I would’ve died happy.”
“If you had…” He trails off, unable to say the words.
“Hey.” I grab his hand, placing it over my heart. “I didn’t and I’m not going to. I fought, Rocco.” Tears hit my eyes unexpectedly. “I fucking fought and I won.”
“Yeah you did.” His eyes are as glassy as mine and without a breath between us, he kisses me again.
“How did you find me?” I ask when our kiss ends.
Scratching at his beard, something I’ve noticed he does when he’s uncomfortable, he shrugs. “I may have taken a page outta Dominic’s book and linked the find your phone app on your and the twins’ phones.”
I attempt to raise an eyebrow, but it hurts too much. “You’re basically stalking me.”
“Saved your life,” he mumbles. “You had no issue with your dad doin’ it, so, uh…”
“Invasion of privacy, Rocco,” I stonewall.
“Are you mad?” he gripes.
I only need a second to think about it. “Well, no, not exactly.”
“Then let’s stop fuckin’ talkin’ about it. I love you. I need you. I wanted to make sure if anything like this ever went fuckin’ down and the dickhead that took you was as dumb as this cunt and didn’t check you, I’d be able to find you.”
Reaching up on my tiptoes—holding my ribs because fucking ouch—I push my lips against his. “Let’s go home.”
I don’t look back as we leave the warehouse, my heart wrapped up in the man beside me.