Chapter Forty Five
Bedlam
Rachel Williams
The sound hits like lightning.
A gunshot. Close. Too close.
My whole body jerks upright before my brain catches up. Pain detonates in my chest, sharp and blinding, but fear is stronger. Fear is everything.
Gemma’s head snaps toward the door. “Rachel, stay-”
“No.” My voice is barely a rasp. “Bishop.”
I don’t wait. I don’t think. I shove the blankets off and swing my legs over the bed. The room tilts, my ribs scream, but I’m already moving. Gemma grabs my arm to steady me, and together we stumble into the hallway.
Another alarm goes off; shrill, and urgent.
We turn the corner, and the world ends.
Bishop is on the floor.
Blood everywhere. Pooling beneath him. Spreading across the tile like something alive.
His body is twisted, unmoving. His eyes closed. His chest still.
“No,” I whisper. Then louder. “No.no. no. no Bishop-”
I drop to my knees so fast pain explodes through my side, but I don’t care. I crawl to him, hands shaking, reaching for his face, his chest, anything warm, anything alive.
He doesn’t move.
He doesn’t breathe.
His blood coats my fingers, hot and slick and horrifying.
“Bishop!” My voice cracks apart. “Bishop…please. Please wake up-”
Gemma spins toward movement at the end of the hall.
A figure, a woman.
Bandaged. Bruised. Smiling. Beth.
Alive.
Gemma’s voice is a snarl. “You.”
Beth tilts her head, delighted. “Pairs are the hardest to destroy. But not impossible.”
Gemma doesn’t hesitate.
She launches herself down the hall, sprinting after Beth with a sound that’s pure fury. Beth turns to run, but Gemma is faster, her footsteps echoing as she disappears around the corner.
I can’t think about them.
I can’t think about anything except the man bleeding out beneath me.
I press my hands to his chest, his face, his shoulder, anywhere I can touch him, anywhere I can feel him.
“Bishop,” I whisper, voice shaking violently. “Please…. please…don’t leave me.”
He doesn’t answer.
The alarms blare louder. Staff flood the hallway, shouting orders, pushing carts, dropping to their knees beside him. Someone tries to pull me back, but I cling to him until my fingers slip through blood.
“Ma’am, you need to move-”
“No!” I scream. “Save him. Please…save him…”
They start compressions. Commands are shouted. Chaos.
I sink to the floor beside him, sobbing so hard my ribs feel like they’re tearing apart. The pain is blinding, but not worse than this, not worse than seeing him like this, not worse than knowing Beth won after all.
Gemma’s voice echoes distantly down the hall, shouting for security.
But all I see is Bishop.
All I feel is his blood on my hands.
All I know is that he might already be gone.
And I don’t know how to breathe without him.