Is this what death feels like?
It takes thirty long seconds for my brothers to find me. I count the seconds as I wait for death to come. Hannah is probably halfway to my Ducati by now. Probably shouldn’t have given her a spare key, but hindsight is 20/20.
I feel their hands on me before I hear them enter the room. My ears are ringing and I have no idea what they’re saying as they lift me up from the ground and begin trying to assess my wound. I’m surprised I can feel them, given my body's state, but I’m happy I get to see them one last time.
My brothers. My best friends. The only bastards in this entire world that understood me more than I understood myself. They’ll survive without me, but I’ll miss them like hell.
“Is he hit?” I hear Atlas ask, his voice booming through the ringing. “Is he fucking hit?”
I want to tell him I am; I have to be. She was the one with the gun. But I don’t want to waste another second of my time talking. I just want to remember them.
“I d… don’t know!” Tristan screams, as he frantically pulls at my blood-soaked clothes. Ezra pulls his pocket knife out and helps him cut the fabric loose, looking as unhinged as Atlas sounds.
Fuck.
If I knew I was going to die, I would’ve spent more time with them instead of chasing a girl I barely knew. Why is it only now that I realize just how important family is to me? When I’m on my fucking deathbed.
I glance to my left and search for Hannah, even though I know she’s not there. I feel like a masochist, but I can’t help but want to seek her out before I die. I loved her and even though she was the one who did this, in these last few moments of my life, I want to pretend like everything we had wasn’t a lie. That she loved me and that she wasn’t just a pawn in Dimitri’s sick little game.
As I suspected, she’s nowhere in sight. I’m sure she thought running was her best option, and I’m not sure I could’ve convinced her otherwise.
Dimitri is notorious for taking pleasure in tying up loose ends and, unfortunately for her, she is now one of them. Poor naive girl. My brothers would’ve at least had the decency to make her death quick. Dimitri will chase her, torture her for the fun of it, and relish in every second of her pain. He may look like Oleg’s golden child, but he’s a wolf in sheep's clothing, always has been, always will be.
My head falls down and I notice a flash of emerald green in my peripheral vision.
Hannah?
Jerking my head up, I blink my eyes rapidly, just to make sure I’m not hallucinating.
Hannah is lying in a pool of blood with her delicate fingers still wrapped around my gun, but her blue eyes are lifeless.
FUCK.
“Put me down.” I mumble as icy numbness takes over my whole body. This can’t be happening. It was supposed to be me. It was supposed to fucking be me!
All three of my brothers freeze and scowl down at me. Their faces express a kaleidoscope of emotions as they wait for me to clarify.
“I said put me the fuck down!” I yell, shoving their hands off of me.
I fall to the ground and crawl to Hannah’s side. A wave of emotions batter against me as I stare at her lifeless body.
She betrayed me.
Gained my trust only to steal our power.
I should hate her with every fiber of my being. But I can’t. I still love her and the pain of losing her is ripping me apart.
She was right. I wouldn’t have pulled the trigger. I couldn’t live with myself if I killed her. But she killed herself, and somehow that hurts more.
“Cy, you’ve been shot.” Atlas cautiously points out. “We need to get you medical attention.”
“It’s not my fucking blood…” I say bitterly, rubbing tears away with the back of my hand. “It’s hers.”
All three of them go pale. They don't know what to say and I don’t blame them. She was our enemy, but she was also so much more to me.
“Please, just get the fuck out of here, okay?” I ask, my voice cracking with emotion as I brush her blood-caked hair away from her face. “She may not have loved me, but I loved her and that’s all that fucking matters.”
“Cyrus.”
