31. June
June
"No, no, no," I blubber and drop to my knees, the hard surface slicing them to shreds but I don't care. Not when blood is oozing out of a wound in Coen's chest. "Damn it, Co. You do not get to leave me like this." I shove my hand onto the hole.
“J…” He mutters, red spattering out of his mouth. “I—I’m so, sorry.”
“No,” I cry. “Not like this, Coen. You don’t get to say sorry like this.” Tears roll down my cheeks, and I glance up to see Simon with his hands up, Gwyneth holding a gun toward him too.
"It wasn't supposed to be him," she tells me like it's somehow supposed to make me feel any fucking better.
"It wasn't supposed to be any of them. It was supposed to be you.
" She jabs the gun at me but immediately trains it back on Simon when he inches toward her.
"You can't waltz into this life and cause as much anarchy as you have.
You don't get to have multiple boyfriends. That's not natural.”
“You, you want me dead because, because of that? You fucking animal.” I shake my head. “You had me kidnapped and tortured because…”
How does any of this make sense? Why does it matter that I’m in a relationship with three different guys?
I thought she was all about female empowerment and ruling this organization better than before.
Or was that just a lie to get me to trust her?
To let her weasel her way into my presence and give me the false sense of friendship to fuck with me even more.
“Co.” I hold him in my arms, blood coating the floor around us.
“Please, just stay with me.” My teardrops fall onto his beautiful face.
The face that I’ve kissed a million times.
The face I never thought I’d see again when his dad drove him away.
The face that changed and turned into something I no longer recognized days ago, but now the face that I cannot imagine never seeing again.
“Co!” I sob. “Listen, we can get through this, okay? This shit we’ve been going through.
We’ll make it work.” I nearly choke on my words.
“I don’t know how, but you have to believe me.
We’ll figure it out. You and me. Remember, it’s supposed to be us against the world.
It used to be. It can be again. You just have to hold on a little longer.
” I move my hand and blood gushes around it.
I shove it back down. “I’m not done being mad at you yet, Co. ”
Earlier today I considered walking away when this was all said and done.
I wasn't sure if I could stay when they've done nothing but push me away.
But Claire's words made me realize that this was never going to be easy.
It wasn't for her and Johnny, and they're just two people.
Why did I ever expect things wouldn't be this fucking hard?
I should have never considered giving up, not when I still have so much fight left in me.
I know Simon wants this. Magnus does. Dom needs to man up and make a choice about what he wants, but Coen, Coen just proved all my doubts wrong when he jumped in front of a bullet to save Simon Beckett.
His sworn enemy. The man who he hates more than anything. If Coen can change, maybe Dom can, too. And if that’s possible, maybe so is figuring out how to be together. All of us. Because I cannot live without any of these men. Not even Coen, the man who I had the most doubts about this morning.
When Coen had made that explosion, a few hunks of the ceiling rained down and distracted her long enough to give Simon a chance to cut the ropes holding me in place.
It just wasn’t enough time to get us out of here before she realized it was a diversion.
And if Coen hadn’t jumped in the way, it would easily be me or Simon bleeding out instead of him.
“Put the gun down, Gwyneth,” another person demands.
I blink through my tears to see Johnny Jones stepping through the door Simon and Coen had come from.
Johnny continues into the room, and she steadies her aim at him.
“You!” she blurts out.
“I never liked you,” Johnny tells her.
“You would be dead without me.”
“Doesn’t mean I like you.”
“You took Franklin from me.” Her hands shake with the gun pressed between them and her finger on the trigger.
I don’t trust the fact that she won’t accidentally shoot one of them because she’s so fucking old and stupid.
Johnny steps in front of Simon, blocking him from her line of sight. “Franklin was a disgrace and you know it. He deserved to die. I was thrilled watching a bullet go through his skull.”
Simon backs away slowly at her new distraction and then breaks away to rush over to me.
She tosses her attention toward us but quickly focuses on Johnny.
“God damn it, Hayes.” Simon slides his hand under mine and applies pressure to the wound. “We’ve got to get him out of here.” His emerald gaze trails up to my face. “Are you injured?”
I shake my head, the tears still silently falling down.
“You took Franklin, and she”—Gwyneth seethes—“took Vincent.”
“Excuse me?” I rise to my feet now that Simon is clutching Coen, his grip much stronger than mine ever could have been.
“You sent that sick fuck to kidnap me. You did this.” I point to the scar on my cheek.
“And you were the one who showed me that fucking dagger and basically dared me to kill Simon.”
A sadistic laugh bubbles out of her chest, sending a chill down my spine.
“And it was like taking candy from a baby.” She chuckles more.
“You fail to realize the man who shot you, how he got that weapon to begin with. If only I had hired someone with a better aim, we wouldn’t be in this mess, and your precious Coen wouldn’t be dead. ”
“You fucking bitch,” I say through gritted teeth and step forward.
“June,” Johnny warns.
“And you’re just as much to blame.” She steadies the gun at Johnny. “You just had to poke and prod at Franklin. I should have let him kill you when he first wanted to.”
I inch closer to Johnny. “Give me the gun,” I tell him.
“This is between me and her.” I look at Gwyneth.
“You hear that, you stupid old hag? This has nothing to do with them. Let them go.” I whisper to Johnny, “You have to get Coen to a hospital, now. I can’t lift him. Please, Johnny, I’m begging you.”
“June, don’t you fucking do it,” Simon calls out from his spot with Coen.
I put him in an impossible situation when I let him take over the pressure on Coen’s wound. If he releases his hold and comes after me, Coen will no doubt bleed out. But if he does nothing, I put myself back in the line of fire.
Johnny effortlessly slides the gun from his grasp into mine. “Backup is coming soon,” he mutters before he rushes away.
Gwyneth struggles to know where to focus her aim but I move farther away from the men to shift her focus to me.
I could easily shoot her, but she’ll get a shot off before I can move out of the way, and she knows the same goes for me. We’re at a standoff of who will get distracted first, and I fucking refuse to be the loser.
I’ve gone through too much and come too far to let this bitch be the reason I die. Her life will end one way or another, even if I have to stand here all fucking night waiting for her to make one tiny misstep.
“Get out of here,” I tell the guys but keep my sights set on her. “Move that gun toward them, and I swear it will be the last thing you see. Do it, I fucking dare you.”
"I'm not going to fall for your antics, girl. My qualms are with you, not them. They will be dealt with later." She takes a step back and I match her by taking one forward.
Is she baiting me? Is she trying to walk me into a trap? Or is she trying to escape?
Simon and Johnny lift Coen and drag his lifeless body away.
I ignore Simon’s seething stare and focus on the bitch. “Who was Vincent to you?” I ask the question that’s burning through my head. “Why did his death matter?”
Her nostrils flare and she inches toward me, stiffening her arms. “He was…my son.”
I pinch my brows. “What? I didn’t think Franklin had…”
She rocks her head slowly.
“Oh,” I say as the realization dawns on me. I let out a laugh. “You chastise me for having multiple men but you had a bastard son with another man. Is that why you hate me so much? I have something you wanted but never had? You’re mad because you had to choose and I don’t.”
Gunshots go off in the distance. A sign that others are coming. That our time here is limited. My only hope is that Simon and Johnny can get Coen out of this hellhole before any more harm is done to them.
Coen has to live. He has to. Because if he doesn’t, I don’t know how I will survive the permanent loss of him. Just because I have gained one man, doesn’t mean I’m okay with letting another go.
“You,” Gwyneth spits out. “You are a selfish and greedy bitch. Everything would have been fine without you. Dominic and Simon would have had a fair battle and none of them would have fallen victim to your disgusting seduction.”
I laugh again. “You realize they pursued me, right?”
"You baited them!" She clenches her jaw. "You were after their money! The empire! You gold-digging bitch!"
"Wow." With blood coated all over my body, I stand there, completely dumbfounded. How could she possibly be any more wrong? None of this has ever been about the money. Is not having to worry about how I’ll scrounge up enough money for rent nice? Definitely. Is knowing I don’t have to worry about my next meal a luxury I’m grateful for?
Absolutely. But I have never asked them for a single thing.
Not once. The only thing I want from them is their time—their love.
The rest is theirs to do with what they want.
I don’t need the lavish lifestyle—I just need them.
And I would trade every bit of it for a chance to walk out of here with all four of those men.
I would go back to working three jobs, to dealing with shitty bosses who objectify me and treat me like garbage. I would live in squalor and struggle to make ends meet. I would walk through fucking hell and back to get our happily ever after.
Gwyneth turns on her heel, spinning so fast I barely recognize what’s even happening. She darts around a corner and runs.
I start after her, but a second later, she stalks backward with her hands in the air. I keep my gun aimed at her and wait for the reason for her retreat.
Claire appears, a pistol in her grasp, looking like the baddest bitch I’ve ever laid my eyes on. “Not so fast, Winnie.”
“Drop the gun,” I tell Gwyneth. “This is over.” I stalk toward Claire.
“Sorry it took me so long,” Claire mutters. “Took the scenic route.”
“You’re here, that’s all that matters.”
Gwyneth lowers her arms, and for a second I think she’s going to use the opportunity to shoot one of us, but she actually complies and sets the thing on the floor. “You’re going to kill a defenseless old woman?”
More gunshots, this time closer.
I flit my attention in the direction it’s coming and hold my breath. Are those her reinforcements coming to finish us off? Are Claire and I about to be outnumbered and taken out by this stupid hag?
But instead of her goons, Dominic Adler bursts through the fucking door, one gun in each hand. He quickly turns around and shoots at his rear, hitting his target and sending them falling through the door behind him.
“Dominic,” Gwyneth whines and fakes innocence. “You came. These two have made horrible accusations against me. And she…” The pathetic actor points at me. “Shot Coen. She’s trying to pin it on me.”
Dominic lowers his right hand and shoots her in the fucking leg. “Stop the antics, Gwyneth. I’ve heard enough from you.”
Gwyneth cries out and falls to the floor, clutching her thigh. “Wh-why? Dominic. I was li-like a mo-mother to you.”
"A mother?" Dominic sneers. "A mother would never do the things you've done." He rushes over between me and Claire. "Are you two okay?” He hugs me to his chest briefly but releases me, holding me at an arm’s length and studies the blood covering my body.
“It’s Coen’s, not mine.”
“I’m fine,” Claire says and steps toward the whimpering lady. “But I’ll be better once she’s dead.” Claire fires off a round into Gwyneth’s leg. “That’s for Franklin.” Then another. “That’s for Johnny.” Another. “That’s for hunting us down.” Another. “That’s for Luciano.”
I join Claire at her side, pointing my gun at Gwyneth. “This is for Coen.” I hit her in the stomach. “This is for Vincent. This is for Johnny and Claire. This is for trying to ruin my life.”
“And this,” Claire says while Gwyneth foams at the mouth with blood. “Is to end it.” She blasts a bullet straight through Gwyneth’s forehead.
Gwyneth’s body shakes with the impact of the shot but then stills, blood pooling from the various holes we put in her.
I don’t take my sights off of her. No, I empty the fucking chamber into her chest and hope that if there were a chance for her in the afterlife, that this will be enough to kill her in any lifetime. “Fucking. Bitch.”
Dominic grabs me by the shoulders and turns me toward him. “She’s gone, June.” He takes the gun from my hand and tosses it aside. “Here.” He shoves one of his into my grasp and glances at Claire. “We need to get out of here.”
We may have defeated the evil bitch, but her minions are still out there, ready to defend her even in her death.