Page 108 of Bound By Threads
The gravel crunches beneath the tires as my car careens towards her house. It’s the last thing I’ll ever drive.
I skid to a stop, half on the lawn, the front bumper nudging against a tree.
I see her walk in front of the kitchen window.
She’s here.
Thank god.
I stumble out, feet dragging through the wet leaves, knees folding more than stepping. My shirt is soaked through with blood, dark and heavy.
Every breath rattles like broken glass in a paper bag. The hold in my chest feels deeper now—emptier.
I barely make it a few steps before I collapse against the door and slam my fist against the wood.
“Lottie,” I choke. “Lottie…open up… please.”
The door bursts open, and she’s there.
Lottie.
Messy bun. Fuzzy sweater. Bare feet and red-rimmed eyes caused by me.
Her expression shatters the second she sees me. “No,” she whispers. “No, no, no. Roman!”
I collapse into her before she can brace for it, our bodies crashing to the floor. I hear more footsteps behind me. Figures appear over her shoulder… familiar. Voices urgent.
Archer. Oscar. Archer’s parents all appear over her shoulder, but all I see is her.
I cup her face with my blood-slicked hand.
“You’re still safe,” I rasp.
Her hands press against the wound in my chest. “You’re shot. Oh my god. Why didn’t you go to the hospital?”
Someone moves to grab towels, Archer’s kneeling beside us, his hands pushing into my wound over Lottie’s.
I shake my head. “It was too late. Had to tell you…”
“No,” Lottie breathes, trembling. “I hate you, but I don’t want you to die. God. Stay with me.”
My blood’s all over her. On her sweater, her hands, her knees.
I hate it.
I never wanted to stain her again. Ruin her.
“I had to tell you… He knows. My father knows you’re alive, and he’s going to come for you. Said he’d make you his wife. That he’d…” My voice breaks, and the rage floods back for one last breath. “I couldn’t let him. Not again. Never again.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “Why would you…”
“Because I had to tell you. Had to make sure you didn’t just think of me as a monster…” I smile weakly. “Because this is where I wanted to die.”
She shakes her head violently. “No. You don’t get to be an asshole to me then do this.”
I reach for her hand and squeeze it. My grip feels weak, but she holds on so tight like she’s hoping to keep me here through sheer will alone.
“I’m so sorry. So sorry for hurting you, and making you think you were weak…” I cough.
