Wrong For Me

Blood drips from her lip and the cut beneath her eye. Her jaw clenches, her light eyes narrowing, as a wobbly hand tries to raise the gun, but her weak muscles refuse to allow it.

I lift my left foot, kicking the gun from her grip, and she growls, looking from the raised rod in my hand to me.

“Bitch,” she spits, her head dropping against the wall.

I pull the rod back farther. “Maybe. But this was all you.” And I bring it right across her face once more, knocking her ass out.

I drop the weapon and rush into Alec’s room. I check him for a pulse, finding one so weak that I worry he might not make it out of here. I snatch a shirt from the ground and press it over his wound.

I slap him a few times, tears now streaming from my eyes as I stare at his paling form.

“Alec, baby, open your eyes.” I hit him again, glancing from the bullet wound that looks to be just below his heart and back to his eyes. “Come on, baby, wake up!”

Nothing.

The smoke hits me hard then, and I start to cough as I cry. I lift my sweater to cover my nose and stand, trying to pull Alec by his legs, but his big-ass body won’t budge, and I need him out of the awkward position he’s in to even attempt a lift maneuver on him.

“Fuck!” I scream and run for the hall.

I dash toward the kitchen but skid to a stop when I see the flames making their way down the line.

“No,” I whisper, glancing around, finding no way past without my suit … which is in the fucking garage. “Goddamn it!” I scream.

I rush into the bathroom, yanking the shower curtain down. I quickly turn on the water and wet it the best I can. I run back into Alec’s room with it.

I lay it across his body, hoping it does something to protect him from the heat of the fire if it grows closer before I can … before I can … what?

I’m fucked!

I run over to the window, attempting to pull it open, but find screws at the bottom, locking it in place.

This bitch thought of everything.

I lift the office chair. With a deep grunt, I attempt to crash it against the window, but it merely bounces back, and a desperate laugh escapes.

Please tell me these windows aren’t shatterproof.

The fire is getting closer. I’ve got to get him into my room. It’s the farthest from the fire and the only option at the moment.

The smoke is getting stronger and stronger by the minute, and I know we’re running out of time.

I drop onto my ass, planting my feet against the dresser with my knees bent, and grab both of Alec’s ankles. Using the position of my feet as support, I pull until my back hits the carpet, and his body is inches closer to the center of the floor.

A gargling sound leaves him, and I gasp, scurrying toward his face.

“Alec! Can you hear me?” My eyes flit between his, and I see them moving behind his closed lids before his head falls to the side again.

I go to switch positions, ready to attempt to lift him again, but the smoke hits the room full force, and my eyes start to burn.

That’s when I hear the banging.

I jump up, unsure of whether I should grab the gun or scream for help.

I run to the hall for the gun and then follow the sound of the banging on my bedroom window.

I lift the gun as I pull open the blinds, and Rowan’s fear-stricken eyes widen even more.

A sob escapes me, and I put my hand on the window, quickly pulling it back when I find it’s already warming.

“Row!”

“Oakley, get out of the way!”

I step back, and he throws a planter pot against the glass, but it only rattles, the porcelain pot shattering on the outside.

“I think it’s shatterproof, Rowan!” I shout, coughing more. “And she screwed them shut!”

His eyes fly around the road, and he nods before looking back to me, the edges of his eyes tightening like they do before he lies. “I’m gonna get you out of there! Just hang tight.”

“She shot him!” I cry, and he smashes his lips together. “She shot him, Rowan! I can’t—”

“Stop it!” He shakes his head. “Hang in there, Oaks. I’m coming!” I start to sway on my feet, and his voice grows louder. “Oakley! I’m—”

He spins around when a vehicle pulls up behind him. I think I hear him yelling some more, but my head starts to grow heavy, my vision blurry, and I lose my balance.

I fall against my mattress, muddled shouts surrounding me.

I just need a minute. Just a minute to rest.

There’s a loud crash, followed by more banging, more shouting, and then the weight of my body disappears.