Page 95 of Clash

He smirked, almost as if saying there was nothing in this world that could ever hurt him. But I could see him hesitating, like he was calculating his actions in his head. I could see the wheels turning. If he shot Eric, then Alex would be without a father, and I wasn’t sure if I could explain to him that his daddy was gone for good.

“Just say the word, Gina, and I’ll fucking take care of this so he can never hurt you and Alex again.”

I shot him a wary look, glancing over towards Eric, knowing that if I said yes, the consequences would be irreparable, but also if I didn’t say yes, I’d be forcing my son and I to a life of misery once again.

“I can’t watch,” I mumbled, fighting the tears that were starting to pool in my eyes.

He grinned. “Then you won’t, sweetheart.”

“Gina!” Eric shouted after me. “Gina, don’t do this! You belong to me. You’re mine. You can’t just leave me like this!”

Clash’s eyes darkened as they focused in on my husband. The other man named Ratt had somehow slinked away, running from the building the second he saw Clash.

He started to close the door, but then something came over me, and I put a hand on Clash’s arm, stopping him.

“Make him suffer.”

Clash smirked. “With pleasure.” Something behind him caught his eye, and he said, “Take her away, please.”

A man, the same one from the flower shop. Put a friendly arm around my shoulder. “I got you, Brother. Come on, Miss, Let’s get you away from here.”

Another man came running up, panting like crazy. “Ratt’s gone. And there’s a dead Crow in the van. Other than that, it looks like it was just the three of them.”

“Stay here with Clash, Priest. Finish this.”

The man named Priest nodded, following Clash inside the building.

Without another word, the doors between us started to close, and all I saw was Clash mouthing the words “I love you” to you me and my sad excuse for an ex-husband rolling around on the ground like an overturned turtle.

“Come on, you don’t want to be here for the next part,” the man said, guiding me away from the building just as I heard the first… BANG!

Tears flooded from my eyes, and I fell to my knees, guilt, shame, and relief washing over me the second I realized that this was almost all over. Eric was getting what was coming to him, and even though I was a part of his demise, my heart slightly broke for my son, realizing that explaining this all to him would be hard for both of us.

An excruciating pain hit me like a fast-pitched softball, and I cried out, gripping my side as I doubled over in pain. Crimson liquid covered my hand, and I brought it up so I could better look at it. Just the sight of it made me feel very, very woozy. “Oh, that’s right… I’ve been stabbed…”

Those were the last words I said before everything went black.

35

A burning white light incinerated my eyes when I weakly pried them open. I felt out of place and disoriented, like I couldn’t get my wits about me.

Groaning, I tried to sit up, but a hand gently pushed against me, forcing me to lay back down.

“The doctor said not to move,” a familiar voice informed me.

“Clash?”

Focusing my eyes, I studied his chiseled jaw line and stubbled face, frowning when I realized he looked like he hadn’t been sleeping.

“What happened?”

Before he could answer, my bed moved, and a small body wrapped around me, blessing me with a smile that warmed every part of my heart.

“Mommy! You’re awake. Mr. Clash said you would wake up soon, but I didn’t believe him. But here you are! Does it hurt?” he asked, motioning to my side.

“A little,” I admitted, holding my son and hugging him tighter.

“What happened?” I asked again, waiting for someone to fill in the gaps that seemed to be spacing out my brain.