While Heather was waving the gun, Paul sprang toward her. But Heather, spotting him from the corner of her eye, swung wildly toward him and ordered him to stand beside Trena.
“Enough!” Heather shouted. “Tell the truth now or someone dies!”
Paul looked at Madison and shook his head no.
But Madison knew Heather wasn’t joking. She was so far gone she’d gladly kill them all.
“Tell them who did it!” Heather shouted, becoming unhinged. Her hair was disheveled, her lipstick smeared, as thick black trails of mascara pooled under her eyes and ran down her cheeks. “Tell them it was you or Paul dies!”
Madison steeled herself and prepared to confess. She’d kept her secret all these years, but maybe, just maybe, her fans would forgive her. She was just a child when she’d shot them. She was scared and out of options. Paul had risked everything that night and all the ones that followed in order to protect her, and now the time had come to repay the favor. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. The prospect seemed worse than facing a hostile world that knew her deepest, darkest truth.
Stepping forward, she looked directly into the camera. “I—” She started to speak just as Paul charged straight into the barrel of Heather’s gun.
A terrible blast tore through the room, and Madison watched in horror as Paul reeled backward and Heather spun and fired another round through the glass wall that stood between them.
Instinctively, Madison ducked away from the hail of shattering glass as the bullet whizzed past her head and tore into the wall just behind her.
In a daze, she glanced over to where Paul lay. His gut was blown open, and a gush of blood pumped so profusely he’d bleed out in no time. It was over. Really truly over. Wearily, she lifted her gaze to watch Heather advance until she was standing directly before her, gun pointed at Madison’s forehead.
“Please,” Madison whispered. “Stop while you still can.”
“Too late.” Heather’s voice was sad, her expression resigned. “Looks like it’s over for all of us now.”
From somewhere in the distance, Madison heard shouting, the sound of feet running. “They’re coming,” she said. “Put the gun down.”
“They’re coming for both of us.” Heather’s eyes blazed. “So go ahead, before it’s too late—confess! It’s not like it’ll matter once we’re both dead.”
Madison stared at the lost girl before her, trying to get used to the idea that she really might die at Heather’s hand. The possibility was frightening, but she was equally surprised to find how bad she felt for what had become of Heather’s life.
Madison had used her rage to propel herself to great heights.
Heather had directed hers in a way that could only destroy her.
And now Paul was on the ground, the life force quickly seeping out of him.
Now that she’d lost everything, she could no longer see the point of the secret she’d kept all these years. She’d been a little girl when she’d pulled that trigger. Surely the world would’ve forgiven her?
Madison closed her eyes for a handful of seconds. The time had come to speak the truth, wash away her sins, and use what little time was left of her life to redeem herself and her lies.
When she opened them again, her gaze landed on Paul. She wouldn’t let a decade of Paul’s protection die in vain.
“I didn’t do it.” Her voice remained steady, leaving no room for doubt. “Your father killed my parents, and I’m sorry you ever convinced yourself otherwise.”
“Liar!” Heather released the safety and pressed the barrel to Madison’s forehead.
The metal was hard and hot, searing into her skin. Madison narrowed in on the tiny broken-heart tattoo on Heather’s trigger finger, then shut her eyes against it and sent out a thousand prayers to whoever might still be willing to listen.
All she’d ever tried to do was save her own life. What could be so wrong about that?
Someone shouted in the distance, though their cries were soon masked by a deafening blast that burst through the room.
Madison’s ears rang with the sound of gunfire, her nostrils filled with the scent of gunpowder, and she slammed hard against the floor as Heather rolled on top of her.
Blood streamed across her cheek and pooled into her hair.
Her head ached from the impact of hitting the concrete, though it took a moment to realize she hadn’t been hit.
It was Heather’s blood that washed over her.
Even with his gut torn open, Paul could still land a perfect shot in the side of a head.
Madison pushed Heather aside, scrambled to her feet, and grabbed hold of Paul. “Someone get help!” she shouted, spotting Mateo standing in the doorway,
