Chapter 70 #3
I never wanted to be Eleanor Harrekson.
She was never me.
If I was going to love freely, power would be what I needed, the one thing no one could question.
I was a star.
I was the mother fucking star, and he would submit to me.
“I am a star,” I sobbed.
“Quincy.”
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click
Click
There weren’t any more bullets, but I had to make sure he’d never hurt her again. He’d never put his hands on my daughter, my mother, my friends, my pretty little dork football player ever again…
Click.
“Quincy, it’s okay. It’s over,” I heard her voice distantly. “You’re my star, okay? I know. I know, look at me. Look at me.”
Hands wrapped around me from the front. I blinked a few times and shot a little slower until finally stopping. Quinntessa had slipped under my arms and hugged me tight. I didn’t want to accidentally hit her.
“He can’t hurt you anymore,” she whispered, holding my face and looking into my eyes. “Drop the gun. Please. I-I see you. I see you. You’re a star, Quince. You’re a pretty star, and he never deserved to be your father. Please, drop the gun. You’re safe now.”
I did.
For her, I’d do anything.
Anything.
The gun fell from my hands. It clattered to the ground as I hugged her waist and stared at the obliterated face of my father. He laid there like Swiss cheese in a pool of wine.
“You’re my star,” Quinntessa whispered, her breathing a bit labored. “You’re…my star, Quince. It’s over. He can’t…he can’t hurt you anymore.”
Hearing a pained noise squeak out of her, I looked down and felt my heart drop into hell. Quinntessa’s hand was soaked in blood, pressed into her side. Red oozed around her fingers and dripped onto my shoes.
“S-Sally?” I stuttered at the sight of her.
Quinntessa forced my chin up so I would look at her eyes. She leaned into me, raising a bloody hand to my cheek.
“Don’t look, okay? Don’t blame yourself.” She took a struggling breath and shuffled closer to me. “I’m okay. Just a little dizzy.”
Her brown eyes weren’t as bright. She was hurt. Hurt enough that she struggled to hide it from me. I tried to remember when she could have been injured. The adrenaline in my body blocked out most of the fight in my head. I looked again at her crimson hands and let out a sob.
“No, no, no.” I grabbed her as Quinntessa struggled to take another step.
“I’m okay. Stop. Stop.” Quinntessa wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned almost entirely into me.
She wasn’t okay. She was bleeding out in front of me, her eyes losing the sparkle I loved, and she was getting paler by the second. It soaked her jeans, dripped on the floor.
I fell to my knees and cradled her to me. Her head lulled onto my shoulder with tired eyes. I laid her down on the floor and looked around for anyone. We were too vulnerable like this.
“I’m sorry.” I winced and grabbed her under the arms.
Quinntessa cried out as I dragged her across the barn into one of the taller stalls. I laid her down in the hay and tore my shirt over my head to use to clot the wound.
“Oh, wow,” she mumbled, her eyes flickering over all my tattoos. She’d blush if she had the blood to do so. “You’re so pretty, Quincy.”
“Shh, don’t waste your energy.” I kissed her bloody forehead.
Tears streamed down my face as I applied pressure to her wound. It didn’t look like a gun shot. It looked like someone had tried to stab her but sliced her instead. A long, horizontal slash in her side.
“I need to grab some things.” I shakily stood and unraveled Quinntessa’s hands from me. “I’ll be back.”
She was trying to pretend she was fine for me, but I could see right through her. Quinntessa nodded, but her eyes filled with fear.
“I’ll be back. I promise.” I kissed her lips and felt disgusted with myself when the taste of her blood made my heart race. I tried to pull back, but Quinntessa grabbed the back of my head and deepened our kiss.
“I love you,” she whispered as we pulled away. Her fingers brushed the blood on my mouth. “Do you?—”
“I love you too.” I nuzzled her nose and pressed my bloody lips to her forehead. A lip stain taunted me as I stood. “I’ll be back.”
“If you don’t—” Quinntessa coughed. “I’m going to kick your butt.”
“I’ll let you.” I weakly smiled.
I took off out of the stall and grabbed a gun from Maddox’s body. I glanced over at my father’s body and swallowed the rising bile in the back of my throat.
“Quinn,” I heard a pained groan. “Get her out of-of here.”
Turning my head, I gasped in relief when I spotted Milo shoving his father’s body off him. I rushed over and winced at the clear bullet wound in his chest.
“Shit. Fuck. I have to—” I glanced toward the stall where I left Quinntessa when I heard coughing. “I have to go, but I’ll be back with something to help.”
“No.” Milo shook his head and closed his eyes.
“Milo, wake up!” I slapped his cheek until his eyes fluttered open. “Don’t you give up on me. I’ll be back.”
Milo felt like he was staring through me. He weakly smiled, exhaling a choppy breath.
“I know it sounds crazy, but she can see Leo,” he whispered, grabbing my wrist. “You have to tell…tell him I’m…I’m sorry. You have to protect her.”
“What? You’re hallucinating,” I told him. “It’s going to be okay.”
“No, no?—”
“Milo, open your eyes!”
“I want to be with him.” I’d never seen Milo cry before. It broke my heart seeing such a dull man finally have a spark in his eyes, and it was over a dead boy. “Get her out of here.”
I heard Quinntessa cough again. This time, it sounded more strained. I pressed my forehead to Milo’s brow and released a shaky breath.
“Please, Satan, save him. Let him walk this Earth?—”
“Stop,” Milo groaned, shaking his head. “I don’t want . . . you—your . . . your swears. Go to her.”
I shakily stood and stumbled backward. Milo stared up at the ceiling, his hand over his wound loosely. He looked as if he’d accepted his fate.
My head whipped to the right when loud sirens suddenly broke through the echoing of my thoughts. I took a fearful step back, looking around at all the bodies at my feet.
“Okay, okay—” I raced into Quinntessa’s stall and tried to pick her up. “We have to go. Hold on.”
“Is that—” Quinntessa shrieked in pain as I yanked her up a few feet. I stumbled down to the floor as she sobbed. “Ow! I can’t. I can’t.”
“Baby, we have to go! We can’t be here!” I pleaded for her to stand as I tried to lift her again. “Come on, Sal. Please. We’re going to be fine without them.”
Quinntessa shook her head and cried out when I failed to help her to her feet.
“My daddy.” She pleaded through her tears. “Please, my dad can help.”