Epilogue
I shouldn’t be alive.
The gunshot still echoes somewhere in my skull, muffled and distant like thunder underwater.
But it missed.
Not entirely—not even close.
The bullet tore through muscle, maybe cracked a bone, but it didn’t hit the heart.
I don’t know if that was mercy… or punishment.
Maybe he wanted me to live for a minute. Just long enough to know I won’t be able to save her.
But I refuse to die here.
Not while she’s still in danger. While he still breathes.
My fingers twitch first, scraping against blood-soaked carpet. My blood .
My ribs scream, one arm limp at my side, but the other moves. Just enough. I roll, dragging my ruined body forward.
Pain lashes through me like barbed wire every time I move.
I can’t scream. I don’t have the air for it.
I drag myself out of the room, down the hotel hallway. Careful to listen for his footsteps in case he comes back to finish the job.
Every second feels like a war.
My vision blacks out once, twice. I force it back.
Keep going.
Crawl, limp, stagger.
Blood pours down my side, hot and steady. I don’t know how much I’ve lost.
Too much… but not enough to stop me.
The cold hits me like a slap when I shove open the hotel’s back exit. The parking lot is mostly empty. A car hums in the distance. Somewhere, a siren wails.
I collapse against the side of my car, blood streaking the door as I fumble with the key fob.
The lights blink. I slide down onto the asphalt, nearly passing out again.
No. Not yet.
I grit my teeth and pull the door open.
Collapsing into the car seat, I start the engine.
One hand on the wheel, one hand on my side. I don’t bother with the seatbelt. If I crash, I crash. It’ll be faster that way.
Lottie’s house isn’t far.
Twenty minutes—fifteen if I don’t stop for red lights.
I slam my foot down on the gas, and the car screeches out of the lot like a beast let off its leash. The world around me becomes a blur of lights and shadows, trees flying past, the road a ribbon I can barely focus on.
Every breath is becoming a struggle. Every heartbeat feels borrowed.
But I’ll spend every last one getting to her.
If I die, it won’t be in that room or in this car.
It’ll be at her door, telling her he’s coming for her.
That I fucked up again, and let him know she’s alive…
Or in front of him.
I’ll drag him into hell with me.
The gravel crunches beneath the tires as my car careens towards her house. It’s the last thing I’ll ever drive.
I skid to a stop, half on the lawn, the front bumper nudging against a tree.
I see her walk in front of the kitchen window.
She’s here.
Thank god.
I stumble out, feet dragging through the wet leaves, knees folding more than stepping. My shirt is soaked through with blood, dark and heavy.
Every breath rattles like broken glass in a paper bag. The hold in my chest feels deeper now—emptier.
I barely make it a few steps before I collapse against the door and slam my fist against the wood.
“Lottie,” I choke. “Lottie… open up … please.”
The door bursts open, and she’s there.
Lottie.
Messy bun. Fuzzy sweater. Bare feet and red-rimmed eyes caused by me.
Her expression shatters the second she sees me. “No,” she whispers. “No, no, no. Roman!”
I collapse into her before she can brace for it, our bodies crashing to the floor. I hear more footsteps behind me. Figures appear over her shoulder… familiar. Voices urgent.
Archer. Oscar. Archer’s parents all appear over her shoulder, but all I see is her.
I cup her face with my blood-slicked hand.
“You’re still safe,” I rasp.
Her hands press against the wound in my chest. “You’re shot. Oh my god. Why didn’t you go to the hospital?”
Someone moves to grab towels, Archer’s kneeling beside us, his hands pushing into my wound over Lottie’s.
I shake my head. “It was too late. Had to tell you…”
“No,” Lottie breathes, trembling. “I hate you, but I don’t want you to die. God. Stay with me.”
My blood’s all over her. On her sweater, her hands, her knees.
I hate it.
I never wanted to stain her again. Ruin her.
“I had to tell you… He knows. My father knows you’re alive, and he’s going to come for you. Said he’d make you his wife. That he’d…” My voice breaks, and the rage floods back for one last breath. “I couldn’t let him. Not again. Never again.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “Why would you…”
“Because I had to tell you. Had to make sure you didn’t just think of me as a monster…” I smile weakly. “Because this is where I wanted to die.”
She shakes her head violently. “No. You don’t get to be an asshole to me then do this.”
I reach for her hand and squeeze it. My grip feels weak, but she holds on so tight like she’s hoping to keep me here through sheer will alone.
“I’m so sorry. So sorry for hurting you, and making you think you were weak…” I cough.
“It’s fine,” she sobs, pressing her forehead to mine. “I’ll forgive you if you don’t die.”
The pain feels like it’s slipping now, replaced with a calm I haven’t felt in years.
It’s not gone—it’s just far away, like a siren’s call far from the shore that I’ll never hear again.
The world grows dark at the edges, and Lottie’s face blurs.
Still beautiful.
Still alive.
“You’re not a monster,” she whispers, tears falling onto my skin.
I want to tell her she’s wrong.
That I was… I am… that I will always be, for the things I did to her.
But I can’t speak anymore.
So, I just smile.
The light fades, and everything goes still.
Lottie’s cries are the last thing I hear, even as I try to reach out, desperate to soothe her pain, even though I’m the one who caused it.
I’m sorry.
Please forgive me.
To be continued…