Page 27 of Toxic

I feel movement by my side and glance down swiftly to see Gracin wrap a battered hand around my ankle. Simply having him touch me calms me in a way nothing ever has before. I draw strength from the feel of his hand on me and look backatVic.

“What are you gonna do? Shoot me?” He laughs, blood dribbling down his chin. “That’ll betheday.”

“Gracin,” I say to his prone form. “Can you get up?” His hand is cradling his head, and he lifts to a sitting position with a groan. “Canyouwalk?”

I want to help him, but I can’t chance taking my eyesoffVic.

Gracin heaves himself up to all fours and then to a crouch. “Yeah,” he says, his voice sounding like he’s speaking through gravel. “Yeah, I’m allright.”

Vic takes a step toward us, and I jerk the gun up. “Don’t,” Igritout.

“If you’re gonna shoot me, then just kill me,” Vic says. “Stop pussy-footingaround.”

I ignore him and help Gracin to his feet with my free hand, which isn’t easy consideringhissize.

“I’m fine,” Itellhim.

“He’s fine, you’re fine, we’re all fuckin’ fine,” Vic says. “You gonna tell me what the fuck he’s doing in myhouse?”

“I’m leaving, Vic.” The relief at just saying the words, words I never thought I’d be able to speak, is intense and immediate. Gracin’s hand tightens around my own. “We’re going to go now, and you aren’t going tofollowus.”

His nostrils flare. “You’re not going anywhere,” he says and takes a threatening stepforward.

Gracin straightens behind me, not saying anything, but he doesn’t need to. His presence makes me feel safe for the first time since Vic started smacking me around. Instead of crumbling, my knees lock tight, and my wavering armsteadies.

I gesture with the gun. “Keep your hands up and step away fromthedoor.”

Vic does neither. Though, I didn’t honestly expect him to listen to me in the first place. “You know,” he says, “I knew you were a slut to begin with. White trash won’t ever be anything but whitetrash.”

My finger pulls the trigger, but the shot goes wild, slamming into the wall. Drywall dust poofs out and covers Vic’s arm and the side of his face as he jumps to the side. I jolt backward and meet with the hard wall of Gracin’schest.

“Jesus Christ, you’re a fucking psycho,” Vic says when he manages to regain his voice, shaky thoughitis.

“You’re damn right. I’m the psycho with the gun. The one who can hurt you for a change. So, stop fucking talking and get the fuck out ofmyway.”

Vic gapes at me like he’s never seen me before. And he hasn’t. Not this version, anyway. The one who’s sick and tired of being his punching bag. At least he did what I told him to do. The shot scared him enough that he is well out of the way of the door now. I take advantage of his shock and begin inching that way. I don’t dare glance at Gracin as he starts to move, because I know what I’m going to do with him when we do get outofhere.

Ifwedo.

I aim the gun at Vic’s gut, and he holds up his hands. Gracin reaches the door first, and just as I’m starting to feel like I may make it through the night after all, Vic lunges forthegun.

I feel the recoil in my arms before my brain even registers what happened. It jars me all the way down to the bone, nearly causing my hand to go numb. I prepared myself for the first shot, but this one surprises me as much as it does Vic, who can only gasp for breath. The small hole in his chest expels blood, and he grunts, his hands trying in vain to stop the bleeding as he collapses to thefloor.

The gun fallsto the floor, and I sink to my knees, my hands scrambling to help him cover the hole in his chest, but my efforts are in vain. The minutes it takes for him to wheeze out his last breath are the longest in my entire life. His fingers suddenly clamp down on mine and then release, his arms falling tohisside.

I grab his shoulders. “Vic!” Gracin comes to my side, and I glance up, desperate. “Call 9-1-1!”

When Gracin doesn’t move, I slap at him. “Go call 9-1-1!”

He only stares at me with a carefully unreadable expression, and it makes me want tohurthim.

“Why are you just staring at me? He’sdying!”

With a reserve that infuriates me, Gracin says, “There’s nothing you can do.He’sdead.”

I push off from the floor, unable to endure looking at Vic’s blank gaze but not knowing what to do with myself. The air in the room is thick with the copper scent of his blood, and I try to get more breath, but it feels like I’m drawing it in through a thick blanket. I crash blindly around the room, knocking into furniture and smashing into walls until hands pull at me and wrap metight.

“Hey,” a soothing voice says. “Hey, no, it’s okay. Baby, calm down. You gotta calm down for me. It’s okay.You’reokay.”