Chapter 57
Camila
“Idon’t know how they managed it, but they took Penelope.
They knocked out most of our guards and yours.
We’ve had a trail of Luke for days now, monitoring his movements, and there were only two places he could’ve been.
DL or the docks. Sorry it took me so long to get to you,” Nova explains, but I hardly register her words as we drive down the road to the club.
We make it to DL after what feels like years. Nova had spare leggings in the car, which I shoved on while we drove here. My nervous jitters haven’t stopped, and my arm is in total agony, but the only thing I can focus on is finding out if Xander is safe.
Numerous blacked-out cars are parked in the alleyway, some looking like they might belong to Xander’s men.
I don’t wait for Axel to roll the car to a full stop. I pull open the handle and stumble out of the car, running for the open security door, not caring if any stray passersby see my white shirt soaked in blood.
“Wait, we can’t just burst through there. They might be armed!” Nova exclaims from behind me, but I continue to beeline towards the basement door of DL. “I can see what he meant now when he said she’s strong-headed,” she mutters.
“I can hear you,” I snap. My hand has gone numb from clutching the gun in my fist the entire drive here, so I circle my wrist to get the blood rushing back in. My bad arm is being held up inside my shirt sleeve as a makeshift sling.
I know what I’m doing is dangerous, but I can’t stop. My body is running on hope and adrenaline.
Hope, which is shattered the second I kick open the door, walking into a bloodbath.
There is blood pooling on the floor, covering the walls.
People are tied up in chairs. Guns point towards me but instantly lower.
My eyes find Xander in a matter of seconds—who’s currently lying on the floor with Jacques on his knees next to him, slapping his face.
His once unsullied white shirt now a deep crimson, eye swollen and arms bearing open wounds.
“Xander?” I cry, my heart plummeting to the ground.
“Angel?” he croaks. Jacques shuffles out of the way. Xander starts moving his legs, pulling himself along the floor towards me. “You’re… safe.” He’s barely saying his words; they come out more as a mumble and a wheeze.
I hurry towards him, dropping to my knees beside him, letting go of the gun. I use my good arm to bring his head up onto my lap. My hand shakes uncontrollably as I cradle his rough cheek with my hand, my tears dripping onto his face.
“You’re alive,” I sob.
He tries to laugh, but he starts coughing instead, blood splattering out of his mouth.
“No,” I say. “No, no, no, no.” I look down at where his hand is cradling his side. It’s covered in blood. It’s oozing at a speed I’ve never seen before.
Raw fear envelops me.
“No, no, no, Xander. Stay with me, baby, please.” His eyes are half open, and he’s barely breathing. “Somebody call the ambulance. Now!”
“Cam, we can’t—” Jac starts.
“The doctor is on his way—” That’s Ezra.
“How long has he been like this? How long does it take to get a fucking doctor?” I panic, tears uncontrollably rushing down my face. “Call. Now!” I demand. People start shuffling around us; I hear Nova muttering something in the background.
“Have I ever… told you… you look…” Xander coughs again. “Look good… c-covered in b-blood.”
A laugh escapes my sobs. My hand shakes as I smooth his hair back. “Don’t talk, baby. P-please.” My lip quivers.
It feels like my heart is cracking in my chest. Like those pieces that were carefully stitched back together are starting to burst again.
“Please t-ell me i-it was p-painful.” His eyes are barely open, but that little glimmer of blue that shines in his eyes whenever he looks at me is still visible.
“I chopped his dick off.”
We both laugh, for a moment of happiness, but it’s swiftly replaced by sadness again.
“A-angel,” he slurs. “I need… to tell you.” He takes in a wheezy breath.
“I don’t deserve your tears. P-please don’t cry over me.
” He manages to get his words out. They’re clearer but still slurred, as if he plucked up enough energy to tell me these words one last time.
“Y-you… I never belonged to anyone b-before you. You were my beginning, middle, a-and now my end, too. T-thank you for a-accepting t-the only ver-version of love I could give you.”
He coughs up clots of blood.
“I’m s-so sorry I failed you. I’m s-sorry I couldn’t kill him. I’m sorry for everything.”
Sobs rack my body so hard that I can hardly see his face, hardly keep myself upright. “Please don’t say your goodbyes. Not yet.”
We haven’t had enough time. But that time is rapidly draining out of that wound in his ribs.
“Shh, just listen, Angel. I was never a good man. I’m still not. But I tried… God… For you, I tried. I’m s-sorry that I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry I failed you.”
Ugly sobs break out of me.
“S-someone I knew once said that my obsessions would be my ruin. But if ruin meant loving you, then I would’ve let it ruin me a thousand times over.” He coughs, more blood spilling over my hand. “Can you do me a favour, Angel?”
“Anything. Anything. Just please don’t leave me.”
“Lie to me,” he wheezes.
“What?” I sob.
“T-tell me you love me.”
“I don’t need to lie, Xander. I think I loved you the moment we locked eyes in the club.
I don’t think I knew it then, but I know now.
Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” I say between sobs and place a kiss to his lips, my tears mixing with his blood.
His smile is weak, but he manages. His hand tries to reach up to my face, but he’s too weak.
“Even if you destroyed my car,” I laugh.
Another laugh sounds from beside us. I whip my head over to the side, seeing a straight-faced, tear-streaked Penelope.
I can’t say I’m surprised.
But it’s not her who’s laughing.
“Shut the fuck up, Jenny,” Jac snarls.
I cast my attention to the woman sitting next to her—who looks like she might have been pretty at some point. But not anymore.
“Jenny? You’re his mother?” I ask, gently placing Xander’s head down on the floor. I pick up the gun and stumble over to her.
Her eyes widen in fear. I can see the similarities. But Xander will always be a spitting image of his dad.
I lift the gun, pressing it to her temple, and she frantically shakes her head.
“You're the woman who did this to him. The one that made him feel worthless. Made him out to be a monster. Who clouded him with demons and sucked the soul out of him.” My hand trembles as I press my finger to the trigger, my breaths coming in shaky.
I move to the side, giving Xander one last view of his mother, who’s supposed to be dead.
"He doesn't deserve to be happy," she spits at him. Her voice quivers. She's scared. Exactly as she should be.
"You fucking bitch," I grit, my body shaking uncontrollably. “I hope you remember his face and see what you could’ve had as you rot in hell. I hope you never know peace, Jenny.”
I pull the trigger, and her body slumps.
I blow out a breath. The second person I’ve killed today, but somehow, I feel no remorse about that. Just pure satisfaction. Justice. Peace.
This. This is what it feels like to go to limitless lengths for someone you love. Someone that you’re wholly obsessed with.
This is what it feels like for Xander.
A grunt sounds from behind me. Xander. I rush back over to him.
“I love you, Camila Wilder. I think my soul loved you long before we met. You were never just an obsession. I need you to understand that.”
“Xander, no, stop. Stay with me,” I sob through my clenched teeth, dropping the gun again and putting pressure with my good hand on his wound, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. “Where is the fucking ambulance?” I shout.
I watch as everyone fixes their eyes on the scene before them, different emotions passing over their faces. Sadness, shock, guilt. Nova’s eyes are lined with silver, and Jac is kneeling a few inches away from us, head held down.
Xander’s chest slows under my hand. “Don’t you fucking dare,” I warn. Bringing my broken arm on top of my hand, I press harder. “If you die, I will fucking kill you, Xander Warren.”
Slower.
His eyes close.
His chest stops moving.
A ringing starts in my ears, everything around me blurring. I can feel Jacques next to me, pressing his forehead to Xander’s. I think he’s saying something.
“I love you, brother. I’m so fucking sorry.” I can hear him, but I can’t see him.
I can’t feel anything.
I think Jacques is crying.
I can’t be sure.
Someone is moving beside me.
A dark green figure moves in front of me.
Jacques is pushed out of the way.
“Estella?”
“Jacques?”
“Ma’am, I need you to move out of the way.”
“I need a defib.”
“Ma’am, are you okay?”
“Call the police.”
“Everyone out.”
“I’m Officer Axel Bailey. My team are on their way. No need to worry.”
“We’re losing him.”