Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 35044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Kairo moves in so that his face is all I see as he struggles to hold me down. “Christian took her, but he’s not going to hurt her. He was trying to protect her.”
“I was trying to protect her,” I spit.
Sebastian scoffs, his sarcasm shining through bright and clear as he grumbles under his breath. “He didn’t see it that way.”
I glare at the fucker, trying really hard to remember that he’s one of my best friends, one of my brothers. “You let her get away,” I say, aiming my comments at all three of them while staring down Sebastian for his bullshit comments.
“Can you blame us?” Kairo says, pushing down harder than necessary just to be an ass as Sebastian leans into me, preparing to shove those godforsaken tweezers into my chest again. “You stood in front of Christian’s fucking gun and played chicken. What did you expect was going to happen? She’s his baby sister. She belongs with him, not here with us. If the tables were turned and that was Ocean, we all would have done the same thing, and you know it. You’re lucky his aim was off and a bullet lodged in your chest was all you got.”
I grunt in pain as the tweezers push into the hole in my chest. “I wouldn’t fucking miss,” I spit through a clenched jaw, trying desperately to ignore the pain tearing through me, but what other option do I have? It’s not like my dumb ass can take a trip down to Breakers Flats Hospital and ask for help. “You. All. Let. Her. Go.”
“She’s not ours to hold onto,” Kairo argues back. “You said yourself that she was bait for Christian. Well, good fucking job, you lured him in just as you wanted, but next time you want to play around with our fucking lives, a little warning would be nice.”
Sebastian pushes a little harder and a roar of pain tears from my throat as I fight against the boys’ hold. Three other Widows jump in and hold me down, keeping me pinned while Sebastian takes his fucking time, fishing around for the bullet that feels as though it’s lodged against bone.
My body shakes as it begins to go into shock and the boys start working a little faster. “Bite down on this,” Eli says, grabbing a discarded hoodie and bunching up the fabric before jamming it between my teeth.
I instantly bite down, desperately needing to focus on anything but the tweezers inside my chest. I can feel the metal dragging along the surface of the bullet and I groan, feeling as though I could throw up from the pain. It’s not the first time I’ve had to sit in this very spot having my body searched for stray bullets, but fuck—maybe it’s the six and a half years away from this life—it’s never quite hurt so bad. This torture is worse than getting shot in the first place.
Sebastian clutches down on the bullet, and the boys all tense, knowing this is going to be the worst part. A bottle of pure alcohol sits on standby while someone’s dirty shirt waits to be drenched in my blood.
This is going to be all sorts of fucked-up.
Sebastian meets my eyes, letting me know it’s time and I nod, biting down on the hoodie harder, preparing for what’s about to come. Not wanting to draw it out, he tugs hard and a throbbing pain soars through me. My chest burns and I scream out, the sounds muffled by the hoodie.
He has to give it three hard tugs before the bullet is finally dislodged from my chest. When I think I can finally relax, the alcohol is poured over me.
“FUCK,” I grunt, spitting out the hoodie and balling my hands into tight fists, wishing I could slam them against one of these dickheads’ faces to let them feel just an ounce of the pain I’m going through. Sure, they all look a little banged up from the battle we all just fought through, but none of them have a bullet wound or got stabbed.
Once the throbbing begins to ease, the boys pull back and give me space to breathe. I grab the bottle of who the fuck knows and lift it to my lips as Sebastian comes at me with a needle and thread. I take a hit from the bottle and as it goes down, I recognize the familiar sharp burn of vodka. Fuck, this ain't going to do shit. I need the heavy stuff. Vodka is a chick drink that exists only to make them act like fucking giggly bitches. This isn’t going to help numb the pain, but nonetheless, I drink up, knowing that it’s better than nothing.
I wait patiently as Sebastian stitches my chest and Eli takes a crack at the stab wound. I do everything in my power to think of anything but the needles piercing my skin over and over again and find that all I can think about is Roni. I have to get to her. I have to bring her back, but how? I’m not exactly in the right state to fight Christian again. I nearly didn’t make it out of the last fight, let alone standing against him again.