Page 132 of Heavy

“No… it isn’t too late. We can run, weneedto run!”

I narrow my eyes at her and go to open my mouth when she reaches into her back pocket. She pulls out a syringe with an orange cap over the needle, and I step back, dropping her arm from my grasp.

She shakes her head, and moves to the counter, putting it down.

“I fucked up. I did.” Both of her hands come together, lacing her fingers and I could swear she was ready to fall to her knees. “Ronan, you have to believe me when I tell you I never wanted this.”

Looking over her shoulder, I peer out the windows, now swallowed by the darkness of the night. There are people out there, I can just fucking feel it. It’s like the darkness beyond feels alive, thick and unsettling.

My skin prickles, because I know that there are eyes on us. I’ve never been paranoid, but my time around danger has taught me to always follow my gut. It’s that silent, suffocating tension about being watched without seeing who’s watching, that gives me goosebumps.

I bring my attention back down to her, and those tears of hers continue to flow. “We’ve been running these woods for weeks…” she whispers. “We need to go… We need to try… I couldn’t call you… They…”

Lifting my hand to her cheek, she flinches. “Oh, baby girl.” I sigh and lean in to place my forehead against hers. “You should’ve just told me.”

“R-Ronan, please. We need to run.”

I can’t assume that whoever these people are don’t have guns. They’d shoot us like wild animals out there. I’ve got a better chance here, and it puts her in less danger.

Pressing my lips between her brow, I shake my head. “What was worth killing me for?”

Her knees give out, but I grab quickly to her arm once more and keep her standing. She grabs onto my shirt and buries her face into my chest.

My eyes return to the slightly cracked front door.

“Nothing… I… They have Genevieve…”

This feeling of weightlessness overtakes my insides. Is this what it feels like knowing that I’m likely going to die? My heart is thrashing around, threatening to knock me out. I feel warm—more so than normal.

“How many are there?” I ask, wrapping my arms around her head and shifting my gaze from one window, to the next, and then the next. The continued, eerie quiet beyond them fills me with a sense of dread, an impending doom.

They sent her in here to kill me or die by my hands because they had to know I wouldn’t just lay down and allow for her to do it.

“A lot…” She lifts her head, and I look down at her. “I’m sorry…”

My heart aches, because I know she is. This isn’t a lie, and I wish that it were.

“The gun is on the center stool,” I whisper into her ear. Her body shakes under my hold, and I close my eyes.

“Tell me you hate me, because that’s what I deserve.” She chokes on a sob as she puts her hands flat against my chest. I feel nothing but the beautiful tingle that her touch now elicits. It’s the sensation I hoped to have until I died of old age.

“I need to hurt now, because death will be my relief.”

Then I hear several sets of footsteps hitting our wooden porch.

I shake my head. “No, I can’t ever lie to you. Plus… telling you the truth will hurt you worse.” Her full weight bears down on me, and with my free hand I wrap it around her throat. “I love you, Calista, even now.”

Her eyes round and she goes to put her arms around me, but I don’t give her the chance. I toss her to the side just as the door is kicked open.

I take the short distance to the first person stepping in, a gun raising in his hand. I’m there before it can fire straight and thrust his arm right into the air. The sound of it firing has Calista screaming.

Driving my forehead into the guy’s nose, I close the distance he makes between us by stepping back to uppercut his elbow, dislocating it. He drops the gun, and just as the thump of it hits the wooden floor, I swing him hard against the wall, his head bouncing off it. Grabbing his hair, I slam his face into the hardwood floor. His body goes limp, but I don’t wait to see if he’s unconscious. I’m now refocusing on another coming through the door.

The second comes in with a third, and I’m capable of getting a swing on the closest. The hit is right through his arms and into his nose, causing him to fumble back. Unfortunately, the second gets his gun off, and a sharp pain shreds through my shoulder.

“Ronan!!”

I ignore her shout and use my good shoulder to ram into the one that just shot me. He falls into our table, and I punch at his hand holding the gun. It dislodges, but I know I’m way over my head here. Another bullet rings out, and fire erupts right up my back.