35. Callie
Callie
After my feet unfreeze, I rush over and drop to my knees beside Marcus, trying to figure out where the source of all the blood is coming from. It doesn’t take me long to find the blood is from a bullet wound through the left side of his stomach. Looking around for something, anything to stem the flow, I come up empty.
I slip my arms through my sweatshirt, my shoulder screaming at me in the process. I pull my hair free and press the balled-up material against his wound to try to slow down the bleeding. A sob escapes me as the futility of the situation hits me like a wrecking ball. Scanning the room for something that might make him more comfortable, I rule out the bed. I won’t be able to lift Marcus onto it, but I can use the bedding to keep him warm.
I crawl over, grab the pillow and the blanket, and then spot the first aid kit on top of the fridge. I reach up and snag it before hurrying back over to Marcus. Swiping my hands over my tear-stained cheeks, I lift his head a little and slide the pillow underneath him. Ripping open the first aid kit, I tear open some gauze. With shaky hands, I lift the hem of his T-shirt, moving my blood-soaked sweatshirt out of the way. I see the neat little hole in his skin and press the gauze to it, ignoring the fresh round of tears that run down my face at his cry of pain. I rip off some tape and stick the gauze down, but his skin is slick with so much blood that it’s tricky. I wipe as much blood away as I can, worried I’m making this worse, but I don’t know what else to do.
Once I have his wound covered, I ball up my sweatshirt and press it on top of the gauze and then wrap the blanket over him, tucking it tightly around his body to hold the sweatshirt in place.
When I look up, I find him awake and looking at me with pain-filled eyes. “You stubborn little shit,” he grits out.
“You wouldn’t have left me.” I point out something we both know to be true.
“I don’t matter. You?—”
I shut him up with a yell of indignation. “You matter. You matter to Blake and Arlo. To Felix, Banner, Kellen, and Aiden. And you matter to me. You’re family, you asshat, so deal with it.”
I’ve given up trying to keep the tears from flowing down my face. Even when he spots them and curses, they refuse to stop. Lifting his arm, he tags me behind the neck and pulls me down to his chest.
“I’m sorry. Stop fucking crying,” he mumbles into my hair, making me sniffle.
“Just keep pressure on your wound, okay? I need to call the police.” I lift my head, offering him a watery smile as I stare at his alarmingly pale face.
Sliding my phone out of my pocket, I call the police, telling them where we are and that I need an ambulance. The woman on the other end tells me to stay on the line, but I stop listening to her when I turn and spot the viewing screen behind the door.
As if in a trance, I drop my phone beside Marcus, ignoring the woman’s voice as she calls my name, and climb to my feet. I make my way over to the monitor, sucking in a ragged breath, when I see a pissed-off-looking Christian with my mom held tightly in front of him.
I knew when bullets started flying it was because of him. I just never expected him to be here, figuring he would send someone else to do his dirty work. It also never dawned on me that he would bring my mother with him.
Standing there with his arm wrapped tightly around her neck to keep her up, her stump offering her no balance and no way to fight against his hold, I see the realization dawn in my mom’s eyes that she made a deal with the devil, and the devil always wins.
I must whimper because Marcus starts calling, reaching for the phone I dropped and yelling to the woman on the other end to hurry the fuck up. Everything feels a little out of focus, like I’m hovering above the situation, looking down on everything as it plays out.
“What is it, Callie? What do you see?” Marcus barks, but I don’t answer, moving closer to the monitors. “Callie, don’t,” Marcus yells, but I don’t listen.
I switch the little intercom button at the top of the control panel to on. “The police are on their way,” I tell Christian, hoping he will take off running, but I should have known better.
At the sound of my voice, he jumps before a sinister grin takes over his face. “Callie, my runaway bride. You have displeased me,” he calls out, talking to me like an errant child who has broken curfew or something. “Open the door, and we will leave. Nobody else will get hurt because of you,” he promises, as my mother’s face starts to turn an alarming shade of purple. She claws at his arm, which is tightening around her windpipe.
His words momentarily snap me out of my shock, making clarity wash over me. He’ll kill her regardless of what I do.
Movements out of the corner of my eye have me turning to see Marcus attempting to crawl toward me. “Don’t you fucking dare open that door. He’ll kill us all,” Marcus yells at me, trying to climb to his feet.
“If you move one more inch, Popeye, I’ll swing that door right open and welcome him in. Stay the fuck down and put pressure on your goddamn wound!” I screech.
He glares at me but is too weak to put up a fight.
I glare right back. “If you die on me, I will kill you myself,” I snap, turning back to the monitor.
“I’m not coming out, Christian. The cops will be here any minute,” I inform him and watch with confusion as his smile gets bigger.
“Am I supposed to be scared?” He laughs maniacally, showing just how much of a crazy motherfucker he is. “Come out, come out wherever you are,” he sings off-key before his smile disappears and his eyes flash with intent. “You have to the count of five. Come out, or she dies.” He grins again, pulling a knife from behind him and holding it to her throat.
“Callie, please,” she begs, her voice sounding like she has gargled with glass.
“Callie, don’t do it, sweetheart,” Marcus whispers harshly, his voice weak and sounding so unlike the man I know.
“I can’t. I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so, so sorry,” I tell her, choking on my tears. What she did to me was unforgivable, but she doesn’t deserve to go out like this.
Christian laughs like this whole thing is hilarious, roaring with laughter as my mom begs and pleads until he slices across her throat in one smooth move, cutting off her words altogether.
Everything stops for a moment. Time freezes completely as the tableau of horror etches itself into my mind. Images of the crimson spray of blood, her body being tossed to the ground and discarded now that her purpose has been served, and the maniacal glint in his eye indicating he needs more to satisfy himself, burn my eyes, scorching them with snapshots of terror I’ll never be able to forget.
I’ve never seen so much blood before .
Reality comes crashing back, along with my ear-piercing scream that makes my ears feel like they’re bleeding.
“Know that could have been prevented. Her blood is on your hands, Callie. Shame on you.” Christian tuts before tossing the knife onto my mother’s body and walking somewhere off-screen.
I drop to my knees and scramble to Marcus when he calls my name softly.
“I’m here. I…I didn’t open the door, Marcus. I’m here. She’s dead, though, but I had to protect you… I had to protect us. I didn’t open the door, Marcus,” I stammer as I shake uncontrollably.
“You did real good, Callie. This is not your fault. Say it,” he states.
“It’s not my fault,” I repeat. I know logically it’s not, but logic has nothing to do with madmen and knives and blood. Especially when the blood splattered everywhere belongs to my mother.
I’ve never seen so much blood before .
“Oh god.” I scramble to the corner of the room and throw up, trying to purge the horror and guilt. I puke and puke until my ribs hurt and my throat feels raw.
When my stomach is finally empty, I turn on wobbly legs to find Marcus out cold again. Sobbing, I make my way back to him, stopping to check the monitor and see that Christian is back once more. I tilt my head, trying to figure out what he’s doing because his back is to me. When he turns, I see an object in his hand that makes my panic come back full force.
He’s going to burn us all.
The words whisper through my mind as I watch him douse the room with liquid from a red gas can.
“Shit, shit, shit.” I drop down to Marcus and shake him. He groans but doesn’t wake up.
“Please, please, please wake up, Marcus. I don’t know what to do,” I sob, collapsing on his chest.
I remember belatedly Marcus isn’t putting pressure on his wound anymore, so I reach over to do it, jumping when my phone rings, still clamped in Marcus’s hand.
I fumble, prying it free, praying it’s the police to tell me they’re here and it’s safe. “Hello?” I ask, my voice sounding shaky even to me.
“Baby, it’s me.”
Oh god, I collapse to the floor in a heap, missing the rest of what he says as I suck in a huge breath. “Blake.” I feel my heart try to beat out of my chest. I never got to tell him he’s going to be a daddy, and now I can’t. I don’t want him to know what he almost had if I don’t make it out of here alive. “Marcus is bleeding, and I can’t get it to stop,” I tell him, terrified that Blake’s best friend is going to die in my arms.
I hear shouting in the background, followed by the sound of a car door slamming shut before he starts talking again.
“Talk to me, what’s happening?”
“I managed to get him in the panic room with me, but he needs to go to the hospital, Blake, right now.”
“Okay, baby, take deep breaths for me,” he urges me. I try—I really do—but there doesn’t seem to be enough air in here anymore.
“Did you call 911?” he asks, and I jump when I hear a car horn raging angrily in the background.
I climb to my feet and peer at the monitor, praying I’ll see the boys in blue any second now, but there is nobody here. Even Christian is gone, although I know he’s creeping around somewhere.
“I called 911, but they’re not here yet. Why aren’t they here, Blake?” I stutter, flicking through the buttons on the monitor to check all the cameras.
My eyes widen as I see a flash of yellow on the camera showing the sitting area. There, in the dark corner of the room, I see Christian’s evil smiling face as he holds a lit match between his fingertips.
“Can you tell them to hurry up? Christian is here, and he’s going to try to burn us out,” I tell him, watching in shock as the match drops to the ground.
I stare transfixed at Christian as he watches the flames dance. “Oh god,” I wheeze, bending and trying to catch my breath.
“Callie!” I can hear Blake screaming at me through the phone, but it sounds like it’s underwater.
“I can’t breathe,” I choke out, a band tightening around my chest, squeezing my lungs so tight I can’t suck in enough air.
Why can’t I breathe? Black spots cloud my vision as I slide down the wall to the floor, the phone tumbling to the ground beside me.
I try to call out to Blake, but my lips won’t move. Numbness settles over my limbs before the darkness I had been fighting off so valiantly finally swallows me whole.