39. Thirty-Nine #2
Once it was back in his hands, the momentary chaos seemingly under control, my father rolled his shoulders before dusting them off like he could do away with this night altogether.
“Enough,” he turned to Francis and ordered, “Kill them.”
There was no more air to breathe. No more tears or screams. If I had to watch the only three people I’d ever loved die today, I would throw myself in front of Francis and beg him to end me too. Only, Francis didn’t move. No one did.
Seconds ticked by. My father clenched his jaw and, more firmly, ordered, “Kill. Them. Now.”
Francis lifted his arm, and my chest started to cave in as I waited for the inevitable end of my everything.
Silently mouthing to Brennon and Xavier, “I love you. I love you. I love you,” over and over again as fast as I could.
If this cruel world was going to take them from me, then at least they would leave it with my love on their lips.
Only, the shots didn’t come. Francis’ arm swung to the side, and now it wasn’t Cole, Xav, or Bren at the end of it, but our father.
For the first time in my life, my whole damn life, Franklin Barrett’s glacial exterior cracked. Only for a second. But the crack showed.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Francis’ only movement was the tiniest quiver of his finger over the trigger. Then, he straightened his spine and looked our father dead in the eyes as he said, “I’m being the predator. The one you raised me to be.”
Emboldened by the silence all around him, Francis started to move, one footstep at a time, closer and closer to our father.
“I’ve taken every order, followed every command since the day you let me out of the box.”
I couldn’t make any sense of what Francis was saying.
“I’ve held myself back out of respect for our family, our business.
” Even in the midst of searing pain, I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
Francis had never done anything out of respect, only fear.
And if he’d been restrained in his actions until now, I couldn’t fathom the terror he would wreak unchained from my father’s control.
“Until I overheard you. I OVERHEARD YOU!” He shouted, voice snapping, “MY PRIZE. MINE. YOU GAVE IT TO HIM.”
“Fran- Fran-” my father stuttered, and in any other situation I would have found that unbelievable, but now I wasn’t sure who was more frightening, the devil or his offspring.
They were so focused on each other, that neither noticed as Xavi took soft, slow steps toward Brennon and I. He waved Cole over, too, and Cole started to crawl, low to the floor.
Xavi finally got close enough to kneel at Brennon’s feet.
Over my shoulder, I saw him grab at the thick black ties that held our ankles and wrists in place.
There was barely enough space for him to wrap his fingers around it, but as he did, he whispered a warning, “This will hurt,” before snapping his wrist and breaking the plastic.
Brennon’s ankles kicked free, but the snap echoed too loudly, causing my brother to spin towards us.
As he twisted, his finger was already pulling on the trigger, and not one, but two, and then three times.
Three whistles. Three shots. All aimed at Xav.
Only, Francis never counted on Cole and his years of training.
All those years of being bullied and pushed to the limit by his overbearing father had turned Cole into a physical powerhouse.
One fast enough to get between Xavier and my brother.
One strong enough to shove Xavi out of the way with enough force to send him sliding out of the line of fire.
But not fast enough to dodge Francis’ last bullet. It collided with his chest, hitting him with enough force to throw his body backwards. It was Mitchell all over again. But worse. A million times worse. Because it was Cole. Our Cole. My Coley.
His body was hurled to the floor. Around him, blood started to pool, too fast, much too fast. Too much of it.
I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t leave him.
I rocked and rocked side to side until I fell to the floor, too.
Still bound and tied because Xavi hadn’t had time to free me.
But at least I could see Cole’s face. See him and be there with him.
“Cole,” I whispered, even though distantly I could hear Xavier and Brennon screaming our names. I heard the sound of the door opening and Jack shouting, “Your men, Frank, they’re coming!”
I heard more shots, more screaming. None of it was enough to make me look away from Cole’s wide brown eyes. He was looking at me. An innocent, boyish smile on his face.
“You’re so pretty,” he mumbled, “I always thought so.”
“Stop. Don’t say that.” I breathed. He just smiled more. But then it broke, as he coughed, “T- T- T, I’m sorry. For all of it. I’m sorry.”
I just shook my head, “Don’t be sorry. Just make it up to me,”
He coughed again, the pool of blood beneath him spreading faster than I could get the words out, “Just don’t die. Cole, please,” I begged.
“I’ll try.”
He smiled and closed his eyes. And then I screamed, “COLE!”
I screamed his name over, and over, and over.
I screamed and I wept, even when one of my father’s men threw me over his shoulder.
I screamed when my father ordered Mikhael to bring the body, and I watched that Russian bastard drag my Coley, like he wasn’t anything but old luggage, behind us.
I screamed until a thud collided with the back of my skull, and for the second time tonight, I passed out.
The last thing I saw before my eyes closed was the body of the first boy I ever loved, the boy who gave everything to protect the men I loved now.
Men I couldn’t be sure were safe. Men I might never see or hear from again.
Until I felt the weight of the phone in my back pocket.