Page 83

“Where are they?” I breathe out again.
Magnum runs a hand through his copper hair. He takes me into Big Daddy K’s suite and sits me on the couch while he checks the rooms like I’ve seen people do on cop shows. When he returns, he says, “No one’s here.”
“No fucking shit. I—” I stop mid-rant. Blood drips from Magnum’s arm, sliding off his fingertips in rivulets. “You’re shot.”
“I know.” He grimaces when he turns his arm to look at the wound. “Dick got me when we were getting in the car.” He pulls his shirt over his head and wraps it around the entry point. “I think he just grazed me.”
I watch him patch himself up, and my mind goes blank. It looks like he’s done this far too many times. This whole way of life is fucked up. “Why did he do that?” My voice signifying the barest grip I have on sanity right now. “I won the fight. I fucking won. No one had to die.”
“You’ll have to ask K.”
“If he’s even fucking alive.”
The barest of happy thoughts flits through my brain. If he’s dead, I can leave. I can put all this shit behind me. It would be a perfect ending to this mess. I can take Brawler and Oscar. We could get the hell out of the Heights. I have money saved up, and I’m sure my aunt and uncle would help us. They just love doing charity work. I’m their greatest charity of all. What are two more guys with horrific childhoods?
“Did you see what happened to any of the others?”
Magnum’s lips purse. He sits on the coffee table, his fingers still wrapped around his gun like a lifeline. “I watched you the whole time. You were my assignment.”
“So, they knew this was going to happen? They knew things were going to end up like this anyway.”
Magnum’s quiet. His gaze keeps tracking to the door. It’s like I’m not even here until he turns hazel green eyes on me. “You should leave,” he says. “I’ll tell them you got shot. They’ll never know. If you leave now, disappear, you can actually have a life, Kyla.”
Why does everyone want to save me?“I can’t leave.”
“Because of Johnny?” he asks, disappointment, confusion, and outright shock coloring his features. When I don’t say anything right away, he says, “Fuck that. Leave. I’ll wipe the footage of us coming in. I’ll tell them you got hit in the car in case that gets out, and then I’ll tell them I had to ditch the car, so it won’t come back on us. You can get the fuck out of here and have a new life.”
“I have a life,” I tell him. I have a whole other life no one even knows about, but I don’t want that fucking life. I never did. I wanted the one God sent me to Earth with. The one where I had parents.
Now, though, I know in my heart I have people here who will help me make a life. I can’t leave.
My heart rips down the center. Being here changed me. Even now, if I close my eyes, I can feel the memory of Brawler’s arms around me. I’m not going to just up and leave him. He’s had enough of that in life. And Oscar? He needs someone here who believes in him. Who tells him that he can play football if he wants. He’s not stuck. And hell, maybe one day, they both need someone to help them escape this shit.
In the back of my mind, my head keeps repeating a terrible thought. A single word my life has been filled with. A word I hate to even think might have happened to Brawler, Oscar, or even Johnny. None of them deserve this life, they’re just caught up in the tangles, like a spiderweb. Eventually, the spider’s going to get us. We just don’t know when.
My leg jumps up and down, and I look Magnum square in the eye. “I’m not going.”
Magnum reaches out, his fingertips trailing over my cheek. He frowns, then his lips pull down when his gaze tracks lower. “You’re bleeding.”
I stare down, noticing blood has seeped through my shirt. I lean back and lift it. There’s a nasty scrape on my stomach. Dirt and pebbles stick to my skin. “You dragged me through the parking lot.”
He swallows, his tender touch hovering over my skin before he gets to his feet, leaves the room, and then returns with a First Aid kit. He kneels between my knees and opens the kit on the couch next to me. He pulls out an antiseptic pad and rips the pouch open. “This will sting.”
His touch is soft, reassuring. It’s like I’m seeing a whole different side to the aloof, mysterious guard who’s always around. “You’re worried about my wounds? You’re the one who was shot.”
“You’re more important than I am.”
“No one’s more important than anyone else.”
His gaze moves up to meet mine. “Not true,” he says. I see the truth in his eyes. I am wrong. Because if I had the chance to pick and choose who dies in that shootout, I wouldn’t have picked Brawler or Oscar or even Johnny. I would’ve chosen Big Daddy K. I would’ve thrown others into the bullet’s paths, people I don’t even know, but the sacrifice would be worth it. Because then, I would know the people I care about most would be walking through that door.
It’s not up to me to play God, but I would. I would if it meant keeping the ones I care about alive.
Tears prick my eyes. Magnum reaches up, flicking the first away, but then they come so freely there’s no way he can keep up. “I’m sure they’re alive,” he says.
They?My stomach twists. He can see right through me, can’t he?
“Kyla, I—” He pauses and swallows, like what he’s about to say is some monumental declaration.