CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
MATHIAS
She died.
Allison's heart stopped beating. Her lungs stopped breathing. She died right in my arms.
And took my entire soul with her.
“Come on, brother. We’ve got to get her to a hospital.” Luca hefts Allie’s limp weight into his arms while Jonah urges me to stand. The four of us rush down the stairs to the black SUV where Hugo has been waiting.
“What the hell happened?” he shouts, eyes widening after glimpsing Allie’s pale, unmoving form. “Oh, shit. Hang on.”
The squeal of the tires barely penetrates my fog as Luca carefully lets Allie’s head rest in my lap. My sweet Angel. He’s performing CPR to keep her blood pumping, and every once in a while he instructs me to breathe for her.
Hell, I’d die for her if I could.
I’d take her place in a second.
But life doesn’t work that way.
Especially not for a Blackchapel Bastard.
***
“Do it,” I order, standing impatiently in front of the brick wall in an abandoned alley hours later.
“You’re crazy. I’m not shooting you.”
“If you don’t, I’ll force someone from Blackthorn to do it. You know I will,” I warn Luca. He and the rest of my brothers are huddled ten feet from me, bracing against the icy rain falling from the sky.
Allison is still in the ICU, but the doctors are hopeful for a full recovery. After they revived her in the emergency room, she was rushed to surgery to repair damage from the bullet. It’s been an agonizing six hours, but the pain isn’t over yet.
My girl has stepped between me and a bullet too many times.
It’s time to even the score. To know the pain she put herself through. To show her how much she matters to me.
What hurts her, hurts me.
We’re bonded for life.
“Fine, I’ll do it.” Dmitri steps forward, lifts his gun with a silencer attached to the end, and fires three shots to match the three bullets Allie sustained. First from the drive-by, then from the incident this morning. “Crazy motherfucker.”
I grunt but remain standing, reveling in the blaze of fire arcing through my body. The doctors are going to have a field day treating me when I lie about a mugging gone wrong and my wounds match the exact placement of my girl’s.
But c’est la vie .
I’ll do anything for my woman.
Even share the pain of bullets meant for me.