Chapter 39
“Go to hell!” I screamed, gripping Larry’s gun in my shaking hand. Clark didn’t get a chance to finish laughing before I was firing and watching the bullets hit him in the head. He toppled backwards off of Lucas before my knees gave out and I dropped the gun when my knees hit the floor.
Lucas scrambled over to him checking for a pulse.
“He’s gone, Becks. You did it,” Lucas’ voice was coming to me faintly, like it was down a tunnel, as I watched him crawl towards me. He hesitated before touching my arms lightly, seeming to be unsure of where to touch me that would hurt the least.
“I’m sorry,” I croaked.
“What the fuck for?”
I heard the sirens getting louder, gravel crunching under tires in front of the house.
“Paul. Your best friend. He said he loved Monica and the girls. You have to tell them,” I begged.
The room was spinning now, the adrenaline, the drugs I was injected with, and the injuries all catching up with me.
“You can fucking tell Monica yourself. It's not your fault,” said Lucas, his voice breaking, as he caught me before I face-planted, “Stay awake, Becks. Jesus. Keep talking to me, baby.”
I smiled up at him, and touched the side of his face, “Lucas?”
“What, baby?”
“I love you too.”
Then everything was black.