69
Grayson stood, dragging Dominic up with him. “Looks like your time’s up,” he muttered, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
Dominic sagged in his grip, his eyes barely open, and my stomach dropped. We were out of time, and there was no escape. The chaos swelled like a storm, spiraling out of control. The blaring sirens, the angry honking of impatient drivers, and the shouting officers formed a cacophony that grated against my nerves. Grayson still crouched next to Dominic, held him upright by the collar, his bloodied, lifeless frame sagging like a broken puppet. The backup officers swarmed, their presence escalating the tension.
“Miss, drive! You’re blocking traffic!” an officer barked, his voice harsh and commanding.
Sheila’s trembling hands stayed glued to the wheel, her tear-filled eyes fixed on Dominic. “I can’t leave him like this! He needs help! He’s dying!”
“You’re causing a holdup!” the officer shouted again, slamming his palm on the hood of the car. Behind us, frustrated drivers leaned out of their windows, yelling and honking incessantly. The sound reverberated around us, adding to the suffocating chaos.
“Sheila, GO!” I screamed, my voice cracking under the strain. I backed away from the car, my hands shaking as I banged on the hood. Tears blurred my vision, streaking my face with hot, salty trails. “You have to leave! Now!”
Sheila’s hands clenched tighter, her knuckles turning white. Her face crumpled as she shook her head violently. “I can’t!” she sobbed. “I can’t just drive away!”
“Move the damn car!” another officer shouted, his tone laced with anger. His gun was pointed downward but firm, his free hand reaching for his radio.
The honking from behind us grew louder, and impatient drivers began shouting obscenities. The roar of engines and screeching brakes filled the air, creating an unbearable storm of sound.
“Sheila, PLEASE!” I screamed, my desperation mounting as Dominic’s limp body sagged further in Grayson’s hold. “If you don’t go now, they’ll arrest you too! Go!”
My voice cracked, raw from shouting. Grayson’s gaze flicked between Sheila and me, his eyes narrowing. “Get her out of here, or I’ll move her myself,” he growled, motioning for another officer to step forward.
“Sheila!” I banged the hood harder, my palms stinging. “GO!”
The officer beside Sheila reached for the door handle. “Lady, move it, or we’ll tow this car right here!”
Sheila’s sobs broke into choked gasps as she finally slammed the car into drive. The tires screeched, and the vehicle lurched forward, disappearing into the growing traffic till she was too far to be seen anymore.
Grayson’s grip on Dominic tightened, and his gaze snapped back to me. “Your turn,” he snarled.
Before I could react, an officer grabbed me from behind, yanking me away from the road. I stumbled, the world spinning as I was slammed to the ground. My knees scraped against the rough pavement, and my chest hit hard, knocking the breath from my lungs.
“Get off me!” I shrieked, thrashing wildly. I twisted my neck to look at Dominic, who lay crumpled a few feet away, his blood pooling beneath him. “He’s hurt! He’s going to die!”
“Stay down!” the officer barked, pressing his weight into my back. His knee dug into my spine, pinning me against the wet pavement.
Dominic didn’t move.
“Dominic!” I screamed, my voice raw and desperate. I clawed at the ground, trying to crawl toward him, but the officer’s grip was unyielding. “You have to help him! He’s injured! Please!”
Another officer knelt beside Dominic, checking his pulse, but his expression told me everything. He shook his head, stepping back as if Dominic was already gone.
“No, no, no!” I sobbed, my entire body shaking. My voice cracked, but I kept screaming. “He’s not dead! Help him! Do something!”
The officer holding me didn’t let up, wrenching my arms behind my back. The sharp bite of handcuffs snapped against my wrists, cutting into my skin.
“You’re going to kill him!” I screamed, tears pouring down my face as I fought against the cuffs. I wanted to die. I wanted to have Dominic’s body in my arms, alive or not. I wanted him to breathe. I wanted him to live. He couldn’t just die. “Dominic! Please, wake up! Don’t leave me!”
His body remained still, his face pale and lifeless. The blood soaking his clothes and the pavement beneath him told me what I didn’t want to believe. He wasn’t moving, wasn’t even twitching, not even a finger.
The weight of the realization hit me and a guttural scream tore from my throat. “Dominic!”
The officer held me down. My face pressed against the cold, wet pavement. My sobs came in uncontrollable waves, my chest heaving as the world around me dissolved into chaos.
The officers hauled me to my feet, dragging me backward as I kicked and screamed. “Don’t take him! He’s not gone! Please, just check again!”
Dominic’s lifeless body was lifted by two officers, carried toward a waiting patrol car. His head lolled to the side, he wasn’t moving. My Dominic wasn’t moving.
He hadn’t seen our child.
He was never happy.
He promised to make this right.
“No!” I screamed, thrashing against my captors. My voice was hoarse, my throat burning as I choked on my sobs. “Dominic! You can’t leave me! Please, wake up!”
But he didn’t respond.
They shoved me into the back of a patrol car, slamming the door shut. My forehead pressed against the glass as I watched them load Dominic’s body into another vehicle. The door closed behind him, and the car pulled away, taking him from me forever.
A broken cry tore from my lips, raw and jagged, as I slumped against the seat, my entire body trembling violently. My shoulders ached from the handcuffs biting into my wrists, and every slight movement sent sharp waves of pain through my arms. The metal burned against my skin, leaving deep red marks that throbbed with every pulse of my heart. My chest heaved, but it wasn’t enough to fill my lungs. I was suffocating in my own despair.
Hot, sticky tears poured down my face, mixing with the snot dripping from my nose. I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t even try to wipe it away. My cheeks were soaked, the salt burning the corners of my mouth. I wasn’t just crying—I was unraveling. My sobs came from the deepest, most broken part of me, spilling out in uncontrollable bursts. Every sound felt like it was tearing me apart from the inside.
The flashing lights outside the car blurred into streaks of red and blue. The chaos of honking horns and shouting voices faded into a dull hum. The world around me shrank until all that was left was the crushing weight of grief and the empty space where Dominic should have been.
I wanted to die. I needed to die.
If Dominic was gone—if he wasn’t somewhere in this world breathing, laughing, living—then what was the point of me being here? I was already dead inside.
Death. It almost felt like an old friend, hovering on the edges of my life, watching me from a distance. I’d been so full of life once, so bright-eyed and hopeful, but that was another lifetime.
At thirteen, I loved my family with every ounce of my being, even though my dad’s job kept me awake some nights with worry.
At fifteen, I dreamed of building orphanages, of saving lives and giving kids like me a chance. I dreamed so big back then.
At sixteen, the dreams died with my parents.
At sixteen, I begged for death. Prayed for it. Welcomed it like a release from the suffocating darkness that had swallowed me whole.
But death never came. It never touched me.
For thirteen years, I stayed alive, barely. I didn’t die when I held a gun to my temple at twenty, my finger shaking on the trigger. I couldn’t do it then. Something in me couldn’t pull the trigger. Maybe I was weak. Maybe I thought there was something left to hope for.
Now, at twenty-nine, sitting handcuffed in the back of this patrol car, watching Dominic’s body disappear into the distance, I prayed again. This time, not just for death.
I prayed for something darker.
Something cruel.
Something that would let me rip apart the world that took him from me.
I didn’t just want to die—I wanted to burn everything down first. Every single person who had a hand in this, every cruel face, every voice that barked orders, every indifferent stare—they would pay. I swore it with every shattered piece of my soul.
I would find them. All of them.
I’d make them feel what I felt—this crushing emptiness, this unbearable ache. I’d make them sob and scream and beg for mercy, the same way I was begging now. But there wouldn’t be any mercy, not for them.
Revenge wasn’t just a desire; it was a fire inside me, raging and consuming every other thought. It was the only thing keeping me breathing, the only reason I didn’t crumble completely. Dominic was gone, but his death wouldn’t be meaningless. I would make sure of that.
Tears blurred my vision again, but this time they weren’t just from grief. They were from the fury building inside me, raw and unrelenting. My heart was breaking, yes, but it was also hardening, turning into something sharp and unyielding.
They thought they’d won. They thought they’d destroyed me. But they didn’t realize—this wasn’t the end.
It was only the beginning.
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