Page 98 of Mortala
Slowly, I turn back toward Kaitlin. She’s standing there with both hands covering her mouth, her eyes wide. She looks horrified, like she can’t believe what she just did, but something about her reaction feels wrong. It looks forced.
Tears fill her eyes, but I don’t feel sympathy. I don’t feel anything except disgust.
I take a step toward her until I’m standing directly in front of her.
“If you ever put your hands on me again,” I say quietly, my voice trembling with rage, “I will make you fucking regret it.”
Kaitlin just stares at me. For the first time, I see fear in her eyes. She’s never seen this side of me before. The girl who used to shrink herself and apologize for taking up space is gone. Everything Miles and Morgan have taught me over these last few weeks comes rushing to the surface.
I’m tired of feeling small and afraid. This shit ends here.
The doorknob suddenly starts twisting frantically. My head snaps toward it, and my stomach drops.
Miles told me not to open the door for anyone. He said he would come get me when it was safe, and he hasn’t.
The doorknob stops moving, the room going completely silent before Kaitlin starts walking toward it.
My eyes widen.Oh, so this bitch really is crazy.
I move quickly, grabbing her wrist before she can reach the handle. She looks back at me and I shake my head, mouthing one word.
No.
I bring one finger up to my lips, silently telling her to be quiet, and for the first time tonight, I don’t know who scares me more. The person standing outside the door, or the person standing beside me.
Slowly, I walk over to the bedside table and quietly pull at the drawer. It slides open without a sound and I grab the gun that Miles keeps in there. I don’t know if the gun is loaded or not. Checking to see if it would be too loud, so all I can do is hope. I hold the gun up and point it towards the door.
I can feel the sweat gather in my palms as I hold the gun firmly in my hands like Miles showed me. My stalker is on the other side of that door. I don’t know how he found me or how he managed to get inside the house. All I know is if that door opens, I’m pulling the trigger.
The other side of the door remains quiet and I try not to panic. Why can’t I hear anything? Is he just listening for me? There’s no footsteps, no hushed whispers, nothing. Just silence.
I don’t dare let go of the gun. For all I know, that’s what he wants. What if he can see me somehow? All these insane and disturbing thoughts start hitting me all at once as the weight of the gun grows heavy in my hands.
Suddenly, we hear what sounds like struggling outside the window from down below and Kaitlin and I both turn to look in that direction. I look back at the door and remember my place. Ihave to pull the fucking trigger. Kaitlin runs to the window and gasps.
“Oh my god, Maddie, come here!”
I look over at her and then back at the door, conflicted on what to do. What if this is what he wants? To catch me off guard so he can attack me?
Fuck it.
I run to the window and see two people rolling around in the grass fighting. I can’t tell who it is because it’s too damn dark. They keep rolling around and grunting until we hear a loud pop.
And then another.
27.Miles
BANG.BANG.
I hear the gunshots, and without thinking, I run right towards them. I don’t know what or who I’m running towards, all I know is three of my guys are out here and there’s only one fucking asshole. There’s a seventy-five percent chance one of my men was shot, and that’s all I can think about right now.
I run around the corner of the house and see Hudson lying out on the grass, grunting and holding his side. I can just barely see the bloody crimson that stains his hands from the reflection of the moon, and I feel my chest cave in slightly. Hudson and I have known each other since we were young. His father was a part of my dads security team, now seeing his son covered in his own blood, it’s something I’ve never wanted.
I drop down beside Hudson, my knees hitting the pavement hard enough that I barely feel it. My gun slips from my hand and clatters to the ground beside me as I immediately press both hands over the wound, putting as much pressure as I can against the blood soaking through my fingers.
“Stay with me, brother,” I grit out, my voice rough and desperate. “You’re not fucking dying on me. Do you hear me?”
I look up, scanning the area wildly, searching for any sign of the person who did this. My heart pounds against my ribs as adrenaline floods every inch of my body. The world feels too quiet, like everything is holding its breath while that son of a bitch gets further away.
