Chapter Forty Four
Parting Shot
Jameson Bishop
The hallway tilts.
I’m on my feet, but barely. My breath is a wreck, my chest tight, my hands shaking. I can still feel Rachel’s fingers in mine. I can still hear her voice. I can still see the way she looked at Gemma…confused.
She didn’t want me.
I press my palm to the wall, trying to stay upright, trying to breathe through the ache tearing through my ribs.
I shouldn’t have said it. I shouldn’t have told her.
She probably thinks it was desperation. A mistake.
I ruined it.
I ruined everything.
My breath shudders out of me, and I drop my head, eyes burning.
That’s when I hear it.
A soft, delighted voice.
“Well,” she says, “isn’t this poetic.”
I freeze.
No. No. No.
I look up.
Beth stands at the end of the corridor.
Alive.
Bandaged and bruised. But alive.
Her smile is too bright.
“You look terrible,” she says, stepping closer. “Like someone ripped your heart out.”
My pulse spikes. “Beth.”
She laughs softly. “You should know by now, things like me don’t die easy.”
I reach for the emergency alarm on the wall.
She sees it.
She moves faster.
A flash of metal. A gun. Her hand steady. Her eyes gleaming.
“You look so broken,” she whispers. “I did that.”
I try to step back, but my legs are shaking, my body still wrecked from everything.
“Beth- stop.”
She tilts her head. “Why? This is the best part.”
She raises the gun.
“And now I get to finish it.”
The shot cracks through the hallway.
Pain detonates through my side. White-hot and blinding. My breath collapses. My knees buckle. I hit the floor hard, blood already pooling beneath me.
Beth steps closer, crouching beside me, her smile soft and satisfied.
“See?” she whispers. “Even without killing her… I still got what I wanted.”
My vision flickers.
Rachel. Rachel. Rachel.
I try to push myself up, but my body won’t move. My fingers slip in my own blood.
Beth stands, tucking the gun away like she’s finished a chore.
“Goodbye, Bishop.”
She walks away.
And the world tilts.
I fight to stay conscious. Because if I die here, Rachel will think I left her. She’ll think I didn’t want her. She’ll think I regretted everything I said.
I try to breathe. I try to move. I try to stay awake.
But the darkness pulls harder.
And the last thing I think is her name.
Rachel.