Chapter Thirty Seven
The Killing Blow
Jameson Bishop
The second Beth pulls the gun, everything inside me locks into place.
I’ve been in standoffs before. I’ve had weapons pointed at me. I’ve had to choose between impossible outcomes.
But never with Rachel behind me.
Never with her breath shaking against my spine.
Never with someone aiming at a person I love.
Beth’s smile is a razor. “You get to choose which one dies first.”
I shift, blocking Rachel completely, ready to take the bullet, ready to end Beth before she can fire again.
And Rachel moves.
She steps out from behind me.
“Rachel-” I snap, reaching for her, but she’s already past my arm, already stepping toward Beth like she’s walking into fire.
Beth’s eyes go wide with delight. “Yes. Good. Show me.”
Rachel keeps going.
I feel the world tilt. I feel my pulse spike. I feel terror claw at my ribs.
But she doesn’t stop.
“You don’t get to choose,” she says, voice shaking but steady enough to make Beth’s smile falter.
Rachel steps closer to the gun. Closer to death. Closer to the one person I’ve been trying to keep her away from since this nightmare began.
“And neither do we.”
Beth tilts her head, fascinated. “Oh, I do. I always do.”
“No,” Rachel says, taking another step. “You think connection is fragile. You think it breaks under pressure.”
She’s inches from the barrel now.
I can’t breathe.
“But you’re wrong.”
Beth’s smile twitches, just a flicker, but I see it.
Rachel steps even closer, until the gun is pointed directly at her chest.
“Real connection won’t break.” she says.
Beth screams.
And Rachel grabs the gun.
My heart stops.
Beth jerks back, instinctive, furious, but Rachel holds on, forcing the barrel down, forcing Beth’s aim away from me, away from herself.
“You stupid girl,” Beth hisses. “You think you can stop me?”
“No,” Rachel says, tightening her grip. “I think we can stop you.”
Her gaze flicks to me.
And that’s all I need.
I’m on Beth in a heartbeat, my hand snapping around her wrist, wrenching the gun sideways as her finger spasms on the trigger.
A shot cracks through the trees.
The recoil jolts through all three of us.
But the bullet hits the ground.
Beth screams in frustration, twisting, fighting.
But Rachel doesn’t let go. And neither do I.
Together, we force Beth’s arm down, pinning the gun between us, her breath ragged, her eyes blazing with fury.
“You can’t win,” she spits.
Rachel meets her gaze, voice steady. “We already did.”
Beth’s smile is still stretched across her face when she drops the gun.
Deliberate. Calculated. Like she’s been waiting for the exact second our guard shifts.
The gun hits the shale with a sharp clatter.
And then she’s moving.
Fast.
Too fast.
A flash of metal and she lunges straight for Rachel.
“NO!”
I grab for her, but she’s already past my reach, already twisting her body with that feral, ecstatic precision she’s used on every victim before us.
The blade sinks into Rachel’s side.
Her gasp is small. Soft. Terrifying.
My world detonates.
Rachel folds, knees buckling, hand flying to her ribs as blood blooms between her fingers. Beth’s face lights up with pure triumph, and hunger.
She decided she wanted to watch me break.
She doesn’t get the chance.
I dive for the gun.
My hand closes around the grip. I rise and aim.
Beth turns toward me, knife still in her hand, Rachel’s blood on her fingers, a smile stretching on her twisted face.
I pull the trigger.
The shot cracks through the ridge, echoing off the trees.
Beth’s smile disappears. Her body jerks. She collapses backward, hitting the ground hard, the knife skittering away from her hand.
Silence slams down.
Dropping the gun and catching Rachel before she falls, I pull her against me. Her breathing is shallow, her body trembling.
“Rachel…Rachel, look at me.” My voice breaks. “Stay with me.”
Her eyes flutter, pain tightening her features. “Bishop…”
My hands press against her wound, trying to stop the bleeding, trying to hold her together, trying to keep her here with me.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper, forehead pressed to hers. “I’ve got you. I’m not letting you go.”
Her breath shudders. “It hurts.”
“I know. I know.” My voice cracks again. “But you’re here. You’re alive. Stay with me.”
Her fingers curl weakly into my shirt.
And something inside me, something I’ve been fighting, rips free.
“I love you.”
The words tear out of me, raw and desperate and truer than anything I’ve ever said.
Her eyes widen, even through the pain.
“I love you,” I say again, voice shaking.
“I should’ve said it sooner. I should’ve told you every damn day. I love you, Rachel. Stay with me. Please.”
She exhales a trembling breath, her forehead pressing into mine.
“Bishop…”
I hold her tighter, blood on my hands, fear in my throat, love burning through every inch of me.
“I’m not losing you,” I whisper. “Not now. Not ever.”
Beth is gone. The hunt is over. But Rachel’s life hangs in the balance.
And I will burn the world down before I let her slip away.