Wrong For Me

The room shakes around me, and just when my throat begins to lock, fresh oxygen hits my nose, and I cough until I’m retching.

“Open your eyes!” someone shouts, my shoulders shaking lightly, and then I’m gently placed on the grass.

“Oh, fucking shit, her leg! Was she shot?”

“Quiet.”

“Oh my God, she was shot!”

“I said, quiet!”

My brows pull in at the sound of multiple voices.

“Alec …” I rasp, and someone moves my hair from my face. “Where … he …”

“Don’t talk. Just breathe.”

My muscles lock, and I swear, my heart stops.

I force my eyes open, and I’m met with the most familiar blue. Tears spill as I stare up at him, wanting to reach out but not having the strength to do so.

His hand runs along my hairline. “It’s okay, baby girl. I’m here.”Chapter Thirty-FourOakleyMy limp hands fly up, tearing at the oxygen mask, but my wrists are held down.

I squeeze my eyes shut, opening them to spot Havannah at my side, her eyes wide with panic as she stares at me. And then my gaze shifts right, and a sob bubbles from me.

He offers a sad, one-sided smile, his eyes sloped at the edges, regret and uncertainty swimming in his stare. “Hi, baby girl.”

“Dad … you’re … is this real?” I whisper.

He moves Havannah’s hand from my wrist to slip his hand into mine.

“Are you here?”

“I’m here.”

I start to shake my head, but the sound of an explosion behind me has me jolting up.

“Whoa!” Havannah catches me by the shoulders.

My hand flies to my head, but I scurry around to look at the house. When I find more than half of it is up in flames, my eyes widen, and I try to hop up but collapse with a cry.

“Oakley, stay still.”

“Alec is in there!” I shout, spinning to look at my dad. “He’s in there, and he’s shot! I’m not gonna sit here while—”

“Rowan went in after him.”

Oh my God!

I fight their hold on me but fail to break away as they keep me pinned on the floor.

“Dad!” I cry, my eyes sliding between his in terror. “Not both of them.”

“He can do this, sweetheart. He’s stronger than I thought.” He smiles ruefully. “He’s as strong as you said he was.”

Another loud bang has our heads snapping toward the house, and we watch as the roof above the living room starts to cave in.

I bite into my lip. Havannah’s hand slides into my right hand as my dad’s slides into my left, and we wait.

What feels like hours is only seconds, and a loud groan pulls our attention to my bedroom window. Rowan’s face emerges, Alec thrown over his shoulder.

My dad runs for the window and helps pull him out. He quickly moves to drop him beside me.

I jerk from Havannah’s hold and pull myself closer to him, transferring my oxygen mask to him.

“Come on, baby. Come on …” I whisper.

“Oakley, you need to keep that on—”

My glare flies to Havannah, and her mouth clamps shut. And then my brows pull in because what the hell is she even doing here?

Before I can ask, my dad comes back … dropping Marissa’s beat-up body beside me.

My eyes fly to his, and he holds my stare before looking to Rowan.

Rowan drops his eyes to the grass when mine seek his out. “I couldn’t leave her in there,” he whispers, looking to his brother. “That’s his wife.”

Right. He doesn’t know she’s the one who did all this.

Alec starts coughing right then, and I gasp, my shaky hand shifting to smooth across his hairline.

His eyes pop open a moment, and the second he spots me, they narrow in fear.

When I smile softly, his body relaxes, and his eyes close again.

“He’ll be okay, sweetheart,” my dad whispers. “He—”

A car door slams and all our gazes shift to the police car that’s just pulled up, half-blocked by the SUV my dad must have shown up in.

“Thank God,” Rowan breathes a sigh of relief.

But my body grows rigid, and I shift in front of Alec’s. My dad steps forward, trying to block both Havannah and me.

“Ms. Rivera,” the voice cautiously calls out. “That you over there?”

“Yeah!” I croak out, my heart about to beat out of my chest. “It’s me.”

Detective Murphy steps into view, and before he has time to lift the gun he has hiding behind his back, I rip the one from my dad’s ankle strap, point, and shoot, hitting him right in the chest.

“What the hell?” Rowan shouts.

Havannah screams, but my dad simply pries the gun from my grasp.

The adrenaline starts to wear out, and my body slumps across Alec’s.

Voices call me as the sirens grow closer, but I sprawl my hand across Alec’s wound and let deprivation win over it all.When my eyes open again, paramedics are moving above me. I’m rolled onto my back and lying across a stretcher.