Chapter 20
Twenty
Jason
“Just kill me already,” I grunted, my teeth chattering as I ignored the pain.
I knew they already had Charlie, and soon, they would have the baby.
Whether or not they took it right away or waited for her to deliver was still up in the air.
I hated myself more than she could ever hate me because I was the reason she was involved in all of this.
I was the reason they were going to kill her and take our baby.
“Shut the fuck up,” the man who had been torturing me for the past hour growled, backhanding me with such force that my head whipped to the side as blood splattered the wall behind me.
My hands and feet were shackled as I hung from a metal beam in an abandoned warehouse.
“You already have what you wanted. Just kill me and get it over with.”
I knew talking was pointless, but it didn’t matter at this point. Nothing mattered. I had ruined Charlie’s life with my reckless behavior and there would never be enough pain to dull what I felt knowing that I was responsible for what happened to her.
The shrill sound of a woman screaming pierced the air, followed by a baby crying.
I hung my head the best I could as tears slid down my face at the sound of my baby being born.
The only thing was that it wasn’t my baby.
It wasn’t even Charlie’s baby anymore. That poor soul now belonged to the devil.
Heavy footsteps approached, stopping right in front of me as I shook my head.
This would be the end of it. Even with them having the baby, there was no way they were going to let me live.
I had known that all along. It was why I refused to help them find Charlie, but at the end of the day, it didn’t matter.
They had found her, and now, they would kill her and make me watch—just to make me pay for the hassle I created for them.
“We have something we want you to see,” a deep voice growled.
When I didn’t open my eyes or look up, he slammed his fist into my side, knocking the wind out of me and forcing me to look up.
“Congratulations,” he snarled. “It’s a boy.”
I pressed my lips together and refused to show any emotion as another man lifted the baby and held it in front of me. I had no right to feel any happiness because I knew what was going to happen. I knew how this would all end.
The heavily tattooed hands gripped the baby tightly, pulling it away as they dragged someone out of the other room. Her hair was matted and covered in blood as they held her under her arms, her body limp and unable to hold herself up.
“Any final words you’d like to say?” the asshole next to me asked as two other guys grabbed her and forced her to stand upright.
Her head fell to the side, her face bloody and nearly unrecognizable from the swelling and bruising. One guy pinched her chin between his fingers and shoved her head until she was looking directly at me. My heart sank in my chest as her eyes fluttered open and she looked at me.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my voice cracking with raw emotion as I stared at the woman in front of me.
The woman who was very clearly not Charlie. They had taken some other woman instead and cut her baby out of her, thinking that it was my Charlie. My stomach churned as bile rose in my throat.
“I’m so sorry,” I cried again, unable to control the sobs that wracked through me.
Before I could take another breath, the man beside me lifted his gun and shot her in the head. Her body fell at my feet as blood splattered around me.
My whole body shook as I looked at the poor, helpless baby who was taken from his mother, who was now dead because of me.
Well, not technically because of me, but because these assholes picked up the wrong person.
But still, I knew I was to blame for all of this.
I didn’t deserve to live when innocent people were being killed because of me.
The best gift I could give the world would be to take myself out of it.
The baby cried louder, no one bothering to console it or even care.
He had barely been in this world for five fucking minutes, and the people around him were already failing him.
But they didn’t care about him or what he needed right now.
They had plans for him, none of which involved love or affection.
“What the fuck is taking so long?” the man with the teardrop tattoo on his face snarled as he stormed into the warehouse and glared at me.
The baby was still screaming as one of the guys strode off with it, ready to do who knew what to get it to stop crying.
“Who the fuck is that?” he demanded, pointing to the woman on the ground in front of me.
“That’s the bitch you told us to pick up,” the guy next to me said with a nod. “We took care of things like you said. Sonny just took the baby to get it cleaned up.”
“You fucking morons,” the other guy growled, shoving the man beside me. “That’s the wrong fucking bitch, you idiot!”
“She said she was Charleen!” he objected, nostrils flaring as he squared his shoulders and faced the guy with the teardrop tattoo.
“Her. Fucking. Name. Is. CHARLIE!” he screamed in the other man’s face. “You killed the wrong fucking woman and took the wrong baby!”
“Fuckkkk.” The other guy groaned and tipped his head back, distracted for a split second, which was all the time I needed.
I swung my body the best I could, given how tied up I was, and grabbed the gun from the back of his waistband. I knew I didn’t have much time, but I didn’t need it. What I was going to do would take a second or two—tops.
“What the fuck?!” he growled, spinning around and reaching for the gun as I took it.
“I’m so sorry, Charlie. I’m so fucking sorry.”
I lifted my hands as high as I could until the gun was under my chin and pulled the trigger.