Page 75

His wild eyes tell me everything I need to know. He’s out for vengeance, for blood, and he doesn’t care who he hurts to get it, and ultimately, he wants to hurt me.

Matty stands in front of me, and my legs almost give way as my hand rests on the small bump beneath my summer dress.

He raises his gun, and I see everything in slow motion.

Gerrard never cared about Matty. He was simply a reason to keep me, and when he realizes he can’t, he turns his attention toward Matty to hurt me the most.

He holds the gun in front of my son, and when his finger presses down on the trigger, my legs almost give out.

Rocco moves so fast I don’t see him coming. He launches himself in the air as terror grips my heart in a vise, and two shots fill my ears and force my heart to still.

One.

Two.

Then Rocco falls to the floor with a heavy thud, taking a part of me with him.

This man.

My husband. My son’s best friend. Took bullets to protect Matty. He did what he promised, to always put me and my son first, our family.

Matty falls to the floor beside him and cradles Rocco’s face in his hands while I remain standing somehow. Lost between my hatred for the man before me and my heart breaking at the scene I’m witnessing, too despondent to react.

“You son of a bitch!” Matty screams as he lifts his head to face his father. The fury in my usual gentle son is unheard of.

Gerrard lifts the gun once again, but Matty moves quicker and slips a knife from beneath Rocco’s jacket and throws it in Gerrard’s direction.

His aim shocks me, as if he knows what he’s doing. But he couldn’t, could he?

The knife lodges in Gerrard’s chest, then his mouth falls open and his eyes widen as he makes a gurgle before he slowly falls to his knees.

My instincts finally kick in, and I scramble past Matty and Rocco to knock the gun from his hands, kicking it across the room as sounds of the emergency services descend on the street.

“Mom! Help him.”

The anguish in Matty’s voice has my head snapping in his direction. “Please help him.” Tears flow down his face as he rocks Rocco in his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Rocco. I’ll be the best big brother, I promise. I fucking promise.”

Blood pools around Rocco’s chest, and I rush toward him. “Your shirt. Give me your shirt.”

Matty tugs his T-shirt over his head and presses it to Rocco’s chest. “Hold it there, Matty.” Tears stream down my face while footsteps approach. “We love you. We love you so much. Promise me you won’t leave us,” I whisper as an emergency responder rushes through the door and takes over.

“Promise me you won’t leave. Our little girl needs you. She needs you and we do too,” I state as those sweet, traitorous lips of his turn blue, and I want nothing more than to kiss the life back into them, uncaring of how we got here. Truthfully, none of it matters anymore. The only thing that matters is that there’s an us.