“I’ll get over it,” he said.
My world froze.
Sophia cried out in indignation, anger and betrayal spilling from her lips, and I was too dazed to even hold onto her. She ripped herself out of my grip and ran toward Vincent, fists in the air, screaming her head off, ready to pound on him.
He raised his gun and shot her in the chest.
She crumpled to the ground, dust flying around her.
My collateral was dead.
The planet slowed on its axis. Every second stretched longer.
I looked at Camden who had stopped in the middle of it all, hands still above his head, halfway in between Javier and Vincent. Camden looked back at me.
He smiled sadly.
“Take care of Ben for me,” he said.
I blinked, trying to understand the implications of what he was asking while my heart sunk as hard as rock, blasting through me until I knew it wasn’t beating anymore.
“Camden!” I screamed, an out of body experience.
Vincent aimed the gun at him.
Pulled the trigger.
Shot Camden straight in the chest.
In the heart.
In his beautiful, lovely, endless heart.
He flew backward, all 6’2” of him, tats and muscle and love.
Fell hard to the ground, making it rumble at my feet.
Motionless.
A bullet whizzed past my head and I had a split second to react. Not that I wanted to react, not that I was trying, not that I cared.
Because I was already dead. I died out there with Camden.
I didn’t even care anymore.
But the body’s will to survive is strong. Humanity’s instinct to preserve itself lives on. I was acting without knowledge, without thought.
I ducked low to the ground and rolled until I was by the giant landing gear and then popped up behind it, using it as a shield.
I leaned against it, trying to find my heart but it was gone.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I sobbed uncontrollably, once, twice, loud, my soul being seared open by the pain, the debilitating pain. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t even be.
Camden.
My moon.
Shattered.
Lifeless on the floor of the Mojave Desert.
Another bullet rocketed off the landing gear making me snap to attention. To the reality that was going on. There was a firefight. I was in the middle of it.
I peered around the gear, my eyes straying to Camden who was still lying there on his back, head facing straight up. Vincent was shooting at me. Javier was retreating behind a wing and shooting at Vincent. Este was there, jumping off the top of a plane and onto one of Vincent’s men. Guns were going off in all directions.
Vincent started running toward me and I fumbled for my gun, ready to finish off the man who had killed the love of my life.
But Javier popped up, aimed, fired, and shot Vincent in the side. He fell to the ground and Javier took off running behind the body of a 737.
I quickly got up and walked straight to Vincent. I turned him over with my boot so he was looking up at me, barely alive, and stepped on his chest.
I didn’t even have words. I just pulled the trigger. Aimed at his head.
Done.
Then I looked around me. More fighting was going on behind the jetliners, giving me a moment of clarity. A moment of quiet. I may have still been an easy target, but I had to take it. I had to take this moment and make it mine.
I staggered over to Camden, my legs growing weaker and weaker with every step I took until I finally collapsed to my knees and crawled the rest of the way, dragging myself over the sand.
I grabbed for his hand, his still-warm hand, and held onto it as the tears unleashed. I sobbed, beside myself in the agony, in the grief, knowing I had to somehow pull through in life without him, to take care of Ben. But it shouldn’t have been this way.
The hero doesn’t die.
And Camden McQueen was a hero unlike any other.
Selfless, brave, protective.
Good.
So fucking
I moved another inch and tried to see through my tears to his flawless face, to take it in one last time. I placed my shaking hand to his lips.
He kissed it.
His eyes flew open and he looked at me.
I almost screamed. I jerked, startled, scared.
“Hey,” he said.
I couldn’t even form words. My chest was about to explode from sheer and utter joy. How could this be?
I looked down at his wound. He was shot, wasn’t he? I put my hand there, feeling along the denim, expecting it to come away with blood. There was nothing. His chest was stiff, harder than normal. With my mouth agape, I unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt and saw the bulletproof vest underneath.
“What the …” I was unable to finish the sentence.
I laughed, confused, elated and looked at him, my hands flying for his face. “You’re not dead.”
He smiled and kissed my palm. “No, thankfully. Feels like I got slammed with a brick though.” He tried to sit up and looked around him. “I think we need to get out of here.”
I put my hand behind his back and helped him sit straight. “I still don’t understand. Why do you have a vest? Who gave you a bulletproof vest?”
He cocked his head to the side, dust falling off his black hair. “Javier.”
I shook my head, unable to comprehend any of this.
He was alive!
He was alive!
“Why would Javier give you a bulletproof vest?”
“I smooth-talked him.”
I raised my brows and got to my feet, helping him up. “How the hell did you smooth-talk Javier?”
He shook out his arms and ripped open the rest of shirt to get a better look at the vest. The crunched bullet fell to the ground. “Well, I didn’t know if it would work but I used you. I told him the truth, that you might be pregnant with my child, and that if he really, truly cared about you, he wouldn’t take me away from you. So he had a change of heart and gave me the vest. He’s wearing one too. He did when he got shot at Travis’s as well. Playing dead worked well for him, so … ”
