I have to survive.
I won’t let that bitch get away with this. I have to find her, and when I do, I’m going to fucking kill her, no matter how hard or how painful it’s going to be. I refuse to see that woman as my mother. She’s just a cold, hard bitch who deserves every bit of my wrath.
I seek out Grayson’s hard stare. “Can’t kill me that easily.”
I try to reach for Grayson, but the movement only sends a searing hot ache shooting through my abdomen, making the blood flood out over his hands. “Fuck,” I curse, sucking in a sharp breath as I fear the worst.
Cruz reaches across me and grabs my arm before pressing it over my chest and keeping it locked in place. “Don’t move, baby,” he mutters, meeting my stare with an equally panicked one, the fear strong in his tone. “The ambulance is coming. Just keep talking shit for a few more minutes. We’ve got you.”
I take slow, deep breaths, trying to focus on King’s soft, caressing touches while zoning out of the harsh, forceful ones coming from Grayson. They’re a complete contrast to one another, yet so perfectly matched to their personalities.
My gaze flashes up to King as the tears flow freely down my face. “I don’t want to die.”
“You’re not fucking dying,” he grunts, his jaw clenched with eyes as dark as night.
Cruz’s hand slips into mine and he laces our fingers as he moves in closer, keeping his face right where I can see it. “What do you need to keep those pretty eyes open?” he questions, desperately trying to keep me distracted from my harsh new reality. “I can find that video of Gray jerking off and yelling ‘YAHTZEE.’ Just name it. Anything.”
“The fuck?” Grayson grunts, his head whipping up as he presses down even harder, his eyes quickly flashing back to mine.
A small smile pulls at the side of my mouth, and for just a second, I’m grateful that I have the energy to smile. If I’m going to die here today, then I want them to remember me smiling. They already have so much pain and hurt to deal with, especially King after only just losing his father last night. I can’t even imagine what this would do to them. Fuck, I haven’t even had a proper chance to make things right with Carver. The ball was supposed to be our shot at mending the burning bridge between us, and instead of mending bridges, all we got was an exploding staircase and smoke inhalation.
What kind of fucked-up world have I been brought into? Maybe I was better off in the foster system, but then I would have missed out on meeting these guys, and I’m man enough to admit that meeting the Kings of Ravenwood Heights has honestly been the best thing to have ever happened to me.
“You still …” I cringe, sucking in a hard breath as I look back up at Cruz. “You still have the ‘YAHTZEE’ video?”
Cruz gives me a dazzling smile that stretches right across his face, though his eyes don’t sparkle the way they usually do. My heart aches, but his smile still manages to ease something within me. “Of course, I do,” he tells me. “I’ve got a whole folder on each of these bastards filled with bullshit blackmail to use against them, but it’s the shit I’ve got on you that keeps me up at night.”
Cruz winks, and for just a second, warmth spreads through me, but when the heaviness starts weighing on my eyelids again, all I feel is cold.
King’s thumb moves back and forth over my cheek. “Come on, Winter. You’re going to be fine,” he says, almost like a chant before snapping his head up and looking across the garage. “Where’s that fucking ambulance?”
His question is met with silence, and I can’t help following his eye line to find Carver standing by the door, the gun dropped at his feet, and a look of unbelievable, gut-wrenching fear plastered across his beautiful face.
His dark eyes roam over my body as though he’s never seen anything so terrifying in his life, and as they finally scan up past the blood pouring over Grayson’s hands, and he finds my gaze staring right back at his, he breaks.
An all-consuming guilt floods his dark eyes and devastation pours through me, watching as he falls to his knees, unable to come to terms with what he’s done. “Carver,” I whisper, desperately wishing I had the energy to run to him, to crash into his warm arms and tell him that everything is going to be alright.
The look in his eyes … fuck. He looks as though he just killed the love of his life. “Carver … I …”
He falls forward, his head dropping into his hands. “I missed,” he whispers in disbelief, his voice so soft and filled with an unbelievable guilt that tears right through my chest, grabbing hold of my heart and squeezing it until it shatters into a million pieces.