Page 81
Story: Seek Him Like Shelter
She yanked the gun from my hands, walking over to him, pressing the muzzle to the top of his head.
And pulling the trigger.
Once.
Twice.
Not a second later, he fell forward, cracking his face hard against the floor.
Then, well, then there was nothing but silence.
“Islah,” Cinna said, kicking the door closed on her way over to Islah, where she dropped to her knees, and reached for the younger woman’s face with both of hers, the gun pressing against Islah’s cheek as Cinna lifted her head. “Are you with me?” she asked.
“Y-yeah,” Islah said, nodding slowly. “My head hurts.”
“Yeah, looks like you hit it pretty fucking hard,” Cinna said, putting the gun down to reach to turn Islah’s head to inspect the wound. “Kiddo, looks like we need to take you to see a doctor,” she said, reaching with one hand for her pocket.
Her voice was calm, but I saw the way her hand shook as she tried to unlock her phone, scroll to her contacts, then lift it to her ear.
“Just stay awake, okay?” she said, patting Islah’s cheek.
“Elian?” she called into the phone, making my belly twist. “Someone got in,” she said, casting another concerned look at Islah. “Islah needs to go to urgent care. She knocked the back of her head pretty bad and she’s a little out of it. No, no. She’s okay. Alright. Yeah. Hurry,” she demanded, dropping her phone onto the ground with a loud crack without even ending the call.
“I’m okay,” Islah insisted, eyes looking small. I knew that look well. She was getting a wicked migraine.
“Yep. But we are gonna have a doctor tell us that too, okay? Elian and Serano are on their way back. They should be like five minutes, then we will get you checked out.”
“My head,” Islah whimpered.
“I know. We will see what the doctor says you can have. And if you can, I’ll get you the good shit, okay?” Cinna asked, forcing some pep into her words that I could tell she didn’t feel.
“You’re bleeding,” Islah said, glancing at Cinna’s shoulder.
“Just a flesh wound. I’m gonna use it as an excuse to make Dav wait on me hand and foot for the next week, though. See? That’s one reason the real men are better than the fictional ones,” she said.
It couldn’t have been more than two minutes later that I heard footsteps slamming out in the hall, then the turn of the knob, before the door was flying open.
Elian’s gaze was immediately on the blood on the wall, then his sister slumped on the floor.
Rushing toward her, he dropped to his knees, reaching to turn her head the same way Cinna had, checking the wound.
“Are you shot?” Serano asked, zeroing in on Cinna’s arm.
“I’m fine.”
“Come on,” Elian said, reaching for his sister and pulling her up onto her feet.
She swayed slightly but righted herself.
“I’m okay,” she insisted again.
“You were a fucking rockstar,” Cinna said. “You can tell Elian all about it in the car,” she added, leading the younger woman toward the door.
“Serano, stay with Elizabeth,” Cinna demanded.
At the mention of my name, Elian’s gaze scanned around, finding me, his gaze conflicted.
“Go,” I said, the sound barely audible even to my own ears.
And pulling the trigger.
Once.
Twice.
Not a second later, he fell forward, cracking his face hard against the floor.
Then, well, then there was nothing but silence.
“Islah,” Cinna said, kicking the door closed on her way over to Islah, where she dropped to her knees, and reached for the younger woman’s face with both of hers, the gun pressing against Islah’s cheek as Cinna lifted her head. “Are you with me?” she asked.
“Y-yeah,” Islah said, nodding slowly. “My head hurts.”
“Yeah, looks like you hit it pretty fucking hard,” Cinna said, putting the gun down to reach to turn Islah’s head to inspect the wound. “Kiddo, looks like we need to take you to see a doctor,” she said, reaching with one hand for her pocket.
Her voice was calm, but I saw the way her hand shook as she tried to unlock her phone, scroll to her contacts, then lift it to her ear.
“Just stay awake, okay?” she said, patting Islah’s cheek.
“Elian?” she called into the phone, making my belly twist. “Someone got in,” she said, casting another concerned look at Islah. “Islah needs to go to urgent care. She knocked the back of her head pretty bad and she’s a little out of it. No, no. She’s okay. Alright. Yeah. Hurry,” she demanded, dropping her phone onto the ground with a loud crack without even ending the call.
“I’m okay,” Islah insisted, eyes looking small. I knew that look well. She was getting a wicked migraine.
“Yep. But we are gonna have a doctor tell us that too, okay? Elian and Serano are on their way back. They should be like five minutes, then we will get you checked out.”
“My head,” Islah whimpered.
“I know. We will see what the doctor says you can have. And if you can, I’ll get you the good shit, okay?” Cinna asked, forcing some pep into her words that I could tell she didn’t feel.
“You’re bleeding,” Islah said, glancing at Cinna’s shoulder.
“Just a flesh wound. I’m gonna use it as an excuse to make Dav wait on me hand and foot for the next week, though. See? That’s one reason the real men are better than the fictional ones,” she said.
It couldn’t have been more than two minutes later that I heard footsteps slamming out in the hall, then the turn of the knob, before the door was flying open.
Elian’s gaze was immediately on the blood on the wall, then his sister slumped on the floor.
Rushing toward her, he dropped to his knees, reaching to turn her head the same way Cinna had, checking the wound.
“Are you shot?” Serano asked, zeroing in on Cinna’s arm.
“I’m fine.”
“Come on,” Elian said, reaching for his sister and pulling her up onto her feet.
She swayed slightly but righted herself.
“I’m okay,” she insisted again.
“You were a fucking rockstar,” Cinna said. “You can tell Elian all about it in the car,” she added, leading the younger woman toward the door.
“Serano, stay with Elizabeth,” Cinna demanded.
At the mention of my name, Elian’s gaze scanned around, finding me, his gaze conflicted.
“Go,” I said, the sound barely audible even to my own ears.
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