Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
The rain picks up, falling faster. It's cool against my bare skin, but I don't give a fuck.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper over and over, my voice thick with unshed tears. I brush her hair back from her pale face and rain kisses across her cool skin.
She's so still in my arms.
If she doesn't wake up because of that motherfucker…if our baby dies because of him…
No. That's not going to happen. I won't fucking let that happen.
"The ambulance is on the way," Carter murmurs, dropping to the sand beside me. He hangs his head, his shoulders slumped. When he speaks, shame and guilt mingle in his voice. "I'm so fucking sorry, Gregory. I should have checked him for another gun. I shouldn't have taken my eyes off him."
I shouldn't have either. We both fucked up.
Jesus, why can't I ever seem to get it right with Mila?
She's the reason my fucking heart beats, but every move I make ends up with her hurt. The realization makes me feel so fucking small and helpless. All I've ever wanted to do is to protect her, to keep her safe and sweet and happy. Instead, I've failed her over and over, letting my world touch her again and again.
I don't deserve her.
Please, baby, forgive me for this.
Gritting my teeth in a desperate attempt to fight back the pain threatening to knock me over, I push myself to my feet, keeping Mila in my arms. I hold her carefully, trying to shelter her from the rain and keep pressure on her wound at the same time.
Tahani hops up beside me and reaches out to help. She hesitates, her hand trembling over the shirt tied tightly around Mila's shoulder. Her gaze meets mine, filled with uncertainty.
"Hold it tightly," I manage to grit out to her.
She nods once, her expression clearing. She bites her lip and then presses both hands to Mila's shoulder, applying pressure from both sides before she looks up at me again with a silent question in her eyes.
"Just like that," I tell her. She's been through hell today―has seen more of my world than I ever wanted her to see―but she's pushing through it the best she can for Mila. Sooner or later, she'll crack, but for now, she's holding it together for the woman in my arms. I'm so fucking proud of her.
As sirens wail in the distance, we stumble up the beach toward the parking lot. Carter stays behind to guard the crime scene. There are a few people gathered on the far side of the beach near the pier, staring at us. None try to approach us, though. Not that I blame them. Not after the bullshit that just went down out here. Not with two dead bodies lying in our wake.
By the time we make it to the stairs leading up to the parking lot, Santa Cruz officers and ambulances fill the parking lot. Blue lights and sirens rip through the air. Chaos erupts around us as two officers pound down the stairs toward us. They take one look at Mila and try to take her from my arms.
"I've got her," I snarl. I can't let her go. I fucking can't. As fucked up as it is, even now, I don't want anyone else's hands on her but mine. I got her into this shit. Some part of me desperately needs to be the one who gets her out of it. If I don't, I'm going to lose what little composure I have left.
One officer backs away without a word and then jogs down the beach toward Carter.
"Let me help, Gregory," the other mutters.
I meet his sympathetic gaze and realize I know him. He's the officer who responded to the condo what feels like eons ago, the night Tahani found out about me and Mila. My gaze flickers across his name badge—Evan Arias.
"I won't take her from you. Just let me help you get her to the ambulance," he says again, his voice soft, like he knows exactly what I'm going through, exactly why I can't let her go.
I nod reluctantly.
He quickly shuffles Tahani out of the way, taking her place. He helps hold Mila steady as I climb the stairs, my boots threatening to slip on the wet wood. Somehow, though, we manage to make it to the parking lot. There are police cruisers all over the place, their lights and sirens still blaring.
Uniformed officers and medics rush toward us in a blur of motion. A warning growl rumbles in the back of my throat, every muscle in my body tensing. I know they're here to help her, but I'm hanging on by a thread. I need to get her to the ambulance. Maybe then I'll be able to breathe.
"Back up," Arias orders. His hard voice cracks through the chaotic roar.