Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Five
Ruby
The gun goes off. The blast detonates through the kitchen so loudly that my ears ring. Wood explodes behind me. Splinters spray across the room as the bullet tears into the cabinet beside the refrigerator.
Lindsey screams, but not as loud as I do as I slam into her before she can steady the gun again. We crash hard into the kitchen island. Pain explodes through my shoulder.
The knife nearly slips from my hand. Lindsey grabs my wrist. She’s stronger than I expected. Than I’d hoped.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
I don’t bother answering her. She’s the one with a screw loose. And I’m not about to lose focus.
The gun jerks between us. I grab her forearm with my free hand and shove upward. The barrel points toward the ceiling. Another deafening shot erupts. Sheetrock rains down from above.
My entire body jolts violently. Protect the baby. The thought slams through my brain so hard it steals my breath.
Lindsey claws at me with one hand while fighting to keep hold of the gun with the other. We stumble sideways. The overturned chair catches my foot. I slam hard against the counter edge. Pain tears through my hip.
The knife clatters from my grip and skids beneath the table. Fuck. Lindsey sees it disappear too.
Her eyes flash triumphantly. “You stupid bitch.”
She drives her shoulder into my chest hard enough to shove me backward. The gun swings toward me again. I grab her wrist with both hands. Every muscle in my arms strains violently as I fight the barrel away from my body.
Lindsey is crying now. Mascara streaks beneath furious eyes. “He was supposed to love me!”
The gun trembles inches from my face. I slam her wrist into the edge of the counter. Once. Twice.
Loud stomping comes from the back steps as someone ascends them. With Lindsey distracted by the noise, I drive my knee hard into her stomach. Air rushes from her lungs. The gun flies free. About fucking time. It skids spinning across the tile floor beneath the kitchen table.
My chest heaves with each breath as we dive for it. Lindsey catches my hair. Yanking. “Fuck.” Pain rips across my scalp hard enough to make me cry out.
She drags me backward. My shoulder slams into the cabinet. I grab for anything I can reach. My hand closes around the overturned chair. I swing it sideways as hard as I can. The chair crashes into Lindsey’s side.
She screams again and loses her grip on my hair. I slump hard against the floor. The impact rattles through my entire body. Fear spikes.
The baby. Oh God. Please. Please be okay.
Lindsey scrambles toward the table again. Toward the gun. No. I grab her ankle. She kicks backward. Her heel catches my ribs hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs.
“Police!” Jake’s voice explodes through the house.
The back door slams open so hard it crashes against the wall. Heavy footsteps thunder across the floor. Lindsey twists toward the sound. And everything freezes for one chaotic second.
Broken glass glittering across the floor. Overturned chairs scattered through the kitchen. White pills everywhere. The gun beneath the table.
And Lindsey and I staring at each other from opposite sides of the wreckage while Jake and Xavier burst into the middle of it all.