Chapter 31 #3
Glass exploded outward as the next round pierced the tiny bathroom window. I jerked at every shot, shoulders tightening harder each time while the smell of gunpowder rapidly thickened the air.
By the time Rhys finally lowered the pistol, the bathroom looked chaotic enough for the police to believe that a real struggle for the gun had taken place in here.
He glanced around, face expressionless. Then he looked down at the gun in his hand for a second before turning toward me.
He held it out. “I need you to shoot me now.”
For a moment, I thought I’d misheard him. “What?”
“No one’s going to buy that Zach fired multiple shots at us in such a small space and somehow missed both of us completely,” Rhys said. “The story works a hell of a lot better if one of us actually got hit. And I’m sure as fuck not letting it be you.”
I just stared at him.
“So it’s gotta be me,” he went on. “Now shoot me.”
My mouth had gone dry. “Rhys, I can’t—”
“Upper left arm,” he cut in. “Clean through if you can. We’re at close range, so it should be easy.”
Easy.
My hand shook as he pressed the pistol into it.
It would be unbelievably easy to kill him right now.
One slight shift to the left and I could put a bullet straight through his heart before he even had time to react.
He knew that. And yet, after everything he’d done, after all the bodies and blood and horror of the last week, he was willingly placing his life in my hands and trusting me not to pull the trigger anywhere fatal.
It was the ultimate test of trust.
Rhys stepped closer when I didn’t move. “Alissa,” he said, voice softening. “Look at me.”
I forced my eyes up to his.
“You’re overthinking it,” he said. “You’re not gonna kill me. You’re just putting a bullet through my arm.”
“I’ve never fired a gun before.”
“Then congratulations. Today’s your first time.” A faint smile ghosted across his face before disappearing again. “Two hands on the grip. Don’t lock your elbows. And aim a little toward the outside of the arm so the round passes clean through.”
My breathing was becoming uneven now.
Rhys stepped back until there was barely three feet between us, then slowly lifted his left arm away from his body. “Right there,” he said, tapping the fleshy part just below his shoulder. “Nice and easy.”
“I… I don’t think I can do this.”
“You can.” His gaze never left mine. “And you need to do it now.”
My fingers tightened around the gun. The barrel shook visibly. Rhys noticed, but if it worried him, he didn’t show it. “Take a breath,” he said. “Good. Now exhale slowly.”
I did.
“Good girl,” he said softly. “Now pull the trigger.”
The gun went off with a violent crack that made me gasp.
Rhys staggered backward with a sharp grunt, and for one horrifying second, all I saw was blood. It sprayed across his chest, darkening his shirt in a sudden burst as his body slammed backward into the wall beside the sink.
A harsh sound tore out of him, somewhere between a grunt and a gasp, and panic detonated through me so fast it almost knocked the breath from my lungs.
My mind instantly jumped to the worst possibility.
His heart.
I’d hit his fucking heart.
I’d killed him.
“Oh my god.” The gun slipped from my hands, and I rushed toward him. “Oh, fuck!”
Rhys’s hand clamped hard over his upper arm, blood pouring between his fingers as he bent forward slightly, breathing hard through his teeth. Then he looked up at me.
“Alissa.”
I was still staring at the blood spreading rapidly across his chest. “I’m so sorry,” I choked out. “Oh my god, I didn’t mean to—”
“You did it perfectly.”
“What?”
“The spray carried across my shirt,” he said through a strained breath. “The actual wound’s here.”
He lifted his hand slightly from his arm for half a second, just enough for me to see the hole torn through it.
My knees almost gave out with relief.
Rhys let out another harsh breath before a crooked, wolfish smile slowly spread across his face. “You were really worried about me for a second there,” he said softly. “Weren’t you?”
My entire body was shaking now. “W-what should I do now?” I asked, pretending I hadn’t heard his question.
He dipped his chin toward the door. “Remember that syringe I showed you earlier? I need you to grab it and bring it to me.”
“You’re taking the drugs for the pain?”
“No. I’m putting it in Zach’s pocket.” He winced slightly as he adjusted his grip on his arm. “The cops would get suspicious if they found it sitting in a drawer in here.”
I hurried into the main space of the cabin and yanked open the drawer with clumsy hands, grabbing the syringe before racing back into the bathroom.
Rhys was leaning against the sink now, a towel pressed tightly to his upper arm. Blood had already soaked through part of the fabric, and the sight of it made my stomach twist all over again.
“Are you sure that’s going to be okay?” I asked quietly.
He held out his free hand. “It’s fine,” he said, voice rougher now.
I handed the syringe over and watched as he crouched to slip it into Zach’s pocket. Then he looked back at me. “Are you ready for the next part?”
I swallowed hard and nodded. “Should I go now?”
Rhys opened his mouth to answer, then closed it. For a second he just looked at me, eyes flicking over my face like he was memorizing it. Then he stepped forward and closed the distance between us.
His bloodstained hand slid lightly against my waist as he kissed me.
It wasn’t frantic or desperate like I would’ve expected after everything that had just happened.
It was slow and deliberate, his mouth warm against mine despite the cold knot of adrenaline still twisting through my body.
I could taste blood faintly in the air between us, could feel the tremor running through him from pain, and somehow it only made the whole thing feel more intense. More real.
Rhys pulled back just enough for his forehead to rest briefly against mine. “Now you can go,” he said softly.
For a second, neither of us moved. Then I forced myself to step away from him.
I slipped my shoes on with shaking hands and hurried out of the cabin.
The early morning air was cool and damp against my skin as I broke into a run down the trail leading toward the assembly hall.
My pulse was still hammering from the gunshot, the blood, and the kiss; everything crashing together so violently in my head that I could barely separate one thought from another anymore.
By the time I reached the assembly hall, I was breathing hard. When I shoved open the doors, every head inside snapped toward me instantly.
For a split second, nobody moved.
Then chaos erupted.
“Oh my god!”
“Holy shit!”
“Alissa?”
People scrambled upright from sleeping bags and blankets scattered across the floor. Several of them looked genuinely stunned, like they thought they were hallucinating me standing there alive in the doorway.
Jasmine shot to her feet so fast she nearly tripped over someone’s legs. “What the fuck?” she gasped. “Alissa?”
Before I could answer, she was already racing toward me.
“I’m okay,” I said as she threw her arms around me.
“Oh my god,” she said breathlessly. “I thought you were dead.”
Wren, Tamsin, and Jesse crowded in a second later, all talking over each other at once. Someone grabbed my arm, and someone else touched my shoulder like they needed physical proof I was really standing there.
Then Jasmine suddenly stiffened and pulled back slightly, eyes dropping to my shirt. “Oh, fuck,” she whispered. “You’re hurt.”
I glanced down at the smeared blood across the fabric. Rhys’s blood.
“I’m okay,” I said. “It’s not mine.”
“What the hell happened?” Tamsin asked, staring at me with wide eyes.
The room had gone completely silent now, and every single Dirtbag was watching me. Waiting.
I took a slow breath, my pulse thudding hard against my ribs. Then I lifted my chin. “I know who the killer is,” I said. “But it’s over now. He’s been shot.”