[REBECCA]
My throat throbbed and ached, a result of the unrestrained screams that had torn from it. Exhausted, I found myself devoid of tears, my eyes dry and vacant. The ability to even utter a sound had abandoned me, leaving me in a haunting silence. Shock’s electric current surged through my body, rooting me in place as the scene before me unfolded in horrifying clarity.
The surreal nature of what I was witnessing simply couldn’t be real, my mind protested.
Especially not now, not after the arduous journey we had endured. The distance we had come felt too immense, too laden with struggle, for it all to culminate like this.
My palms met the cool blades of grass, the pain in my knees almost secondary to the turmoil within. Beneath my trembling gaze, my belly writhed with a frenetic energy, my baby seemingly mirroring my inner tumult. An unspoken connection made me feel that she sensed the distress, comprehending on some primal level that something had gone terribly wrong. Oh, my precious baby…
Amidst the cacophony of voices rising in a chaotic crescendo, I recognized the distant sounds of conflict, but I chose to mentally distance myself from it. The world beyond the immediate shattered reality seemed inconsequential.
Suddenly, a pair of hands gripped my shoulders, pulling my focus upward to meet the blue eyes of Artemy. Panic and shock mirrored my own emotions in his gaze, yet all his concern was solely fixated on me.
“Are you alright?” His voice trembled with worry.
I managed a nod, my attention momentarily veering to what lay beyond his form. “But he… he…”
Artemy’s eyelids shut tightly as if he could shut out the unbearable truth. A deep inhalation later, his gaze bore into me again. “Can you stand?”
“I think so,” I murmured. With Artemy’s support, I rose unsteadily to my feet, his arms enfolding me in a secure embrace.
“It’s going to be alright,” he murmured into my ear, his words a desperate mantra.
“No,” I whispered, the word hitching in my throat. “It’s not. Your father…”
My voice faltered, unable to fully articulate the unthinkable. The question of how and why remained suspended, the answers infinitely elusive.
Beside Damian, Howard knelt, a figure of both strength and vulnerability. Coughing into the grass, his vulnerability was underscored as crimson stained the verdant blades. My heart clenched, and I broke free from Artemy’s hold. Panic and a compulsion to help surged within me like a tempest.
“We need to assist him! Oh my God, we can’t just stand by. He’s bleeding so much… and he’s coughing up blood.”
My fingers clenched around Artemy’s arm, nails digging into his skin. My gaze darted wildly, searching for an anchor amidst the chaos. Unease prickled over my skin, a drumbeat of anxiety pounding in my head.
But when my eyes locked onto the tableau behind Damian, my breath caught. My chest tightened, as if invisible hands were squeezing the air from my lungs.
Raffaele was prone on the ground, Avim looming over him in a wrathful storm. Brayden stood nearby, his weapon trained on Raffaele’s vulnerable form. One shot could snuff out a life, yet Brayden hesitated.
My gaze shifted to Avim’s raining fists, brutal and unrelenting as they pummeled Raffaele’s face. Raffaele tried to shield himself, to evade the onslaught, but escape seemed impossible.
The dull thud of knuckles against flesh resounded like a chilling rhythm. Unable to bear the symphony of violence, I pressed my hands to my ears, a futile attempt to shut out the audible horrors.
I refused to listen. I refused to witness. I refused to acknowledge the brutality staining the world before me.
My gaze shifted back to Damian’s motionless form, lying there in stark stillness. Each breath I took came out with a jagged intensity, a mix of anxiety and urgency. “Artemy, we mustn’t leave him like this!”
“Rebecca, please try to remain composed. It’s not good for the baby if you get so worked up,” Artemy retorted, his hand curving protectively over my abdomen.
My eyes widened, a mixture of disbelief and frustration bubbling within me. I gently pushed his hands away, my voice quivering with incredulity. “Are you out of your mind? Your own father took a bullet for us, and all you’re concerned about is me and the baby?”
Before he could respond, I rushed to Damian’s side. As I knelt down, a sharp kick from within my belly made me wince. Damian’s eyes were sealed shut, his breathing strained. I struggled to hold back a sob at the sight of his bloodied abdomen.
The sight of all that blood was overwhelming.
His complexion had paled, his closed eyes revealing the strain he was under. With trembling hands, I pressed my palm against his clammy skin, attempting to offer a measure of comfort against his restless shifting.
“Please, try not to move. Moving will only worsen your condition,” I murmured, my words soft and soothing.
I could hear Howard’s frustrated expletive. Artemy positioned himself beside me. “Let’s help him up,” he muttered under his breath.
Stepping back, I cleared a path. Howard and Artemy, in tandem, aided Damian to his feet.
“Rebecca, lead the way,” Artemy directed, his tone leaving no room for disagreement. His eyes implored me, silently conveying his need.
Artemy needed me to stand at the forefront, to be his focus. His silent plea was to ensure my safety. After casting a final glance at them, I pivoted around.
Unbeknownst to me, the others had already faded into the distance, their presence fading into the background as my mind fixated solely on Damian. A sigh of relief escaped my lips, and my shoulders sagged.
Raffaele had finally been apprehended.
***
We navigated our way towards Wyatt, finding Claire present as well. Lynda and Nona stood by the door as Howard and Artemy ushered Damian into the room, gently placing him on the bed. Just as I was about to enter, Lynda’s hand grasped my arm, her voice gentle as she proposed, “Perhaps we should wait here.”
My gaze shifted to Artemy, who was approaching me. His arms extended, a silent invitation. Eagerly, I moved into his embrace, seeking solace. Nestling my head against his chest, I voiced my deepest concern, “Will he pull through?”
No response came from him, causing me to tighten my hold around him. In that moment, I noticed his arms trembling ever so slightly a subtle quiver that spoke volumes about his emotions.
His lips brushed my temple, and I felt a prickling behind my eyelids, unshed tears threatening to spill. Planting a tender kiss over his heartbeat, I clung to him, reluctant to let go.
We remained intertwined, a display of unity. It was during this instance that I embodied strength for him. “Artemy, he’s going to make it. He vowed to hold Princess, to meet his granddaughter.”
The words emerged with difficulty, my voice husky as I battled to contain the surge of tears. I couldn’t allow myself to break down; weakness had no place here. I had to exude resilience.
Damian had shielded us, taking the bullet meant for us.
Strength needed to radiate from within me, for all of us.
With Raffaele now apprehended, a semblance of peace was within reach. Safety was ours.
Fear, anger, relief, sadness, disgust, shock a whirlpool of emotions lay dormant within, akin to a slumbering volcano. Everything was repressed, focusing solely on Artemy and Damian.
“Rebecca,” the sound of my name from Lynda roused me from my reverie. I shifted my attention to her. “Why don’t you take a break? We’ll call you when Wyatt’s finished.”
Defying the suggestion, I clung even tighter to Artemy, shaking my head. “No. I’ll remain here until I’m certain he’s alright.”
Artemy’s tone held a note of warning. “Rebecca…”
Before he could say more, I disengaged and elevated myself onto my tiptoes. Our lips met in a soft, reassuring kiss. My voice brushed against his lips as I implored, “Please, Artemy, I need to stay.”
His sigh was accompanied by closed eyes. “You’re utterly stubborn.”
Aware of my persistence, I admitted softly, “I’m well aware.” Once again, I enveloped him in an embrace. “We’ll wait together, Artemy.”
And so we did. An air of uncertainty cloaked us, akin to a somber cloud descending upon us.
As minutes crawled by, my apprehension deepened. The thought of losing Damian sent shivers down my spine, chilling me to my core.
“Rebecca, please wake up.”
I slowly blinked my eyes open, my vision adjusting to Lynda’s radiant smile. Dispersing the remnants of sleep, I began to sit up. “I apologize, I must have dozed off.”
“Wyatt successfully removed the bullet. Damian is safe, resting now,” Lynda announced with evident excitement.
Lynda’s words ignited a rush of relief in me, and my heart skipped a beat. Sensing a flutter, my hand instinctively moved to my stomach.
I comfortingly traced soothing circles on my belly, then turned my gaze to find Artemy. His rigid back faced me as he stood near the wall. I approached him and rested my hand on his shoulder.
Underneath my touch, Artemy visibly eased, exhaling a long, heavy breath. “He’s alright, Artemy.”
He gave a sharp nod. “I know.”
“Would you like to see him?” I inquired as a hush fell upon us.
Stepping in front of Artemy, I cupped his cheeks in my palms. “What’s troubling you?”
A sharp intake of breath escaped me as I beheld the pain in his eyes. “I thought he was indifferent, Rebecca. He wasn’t much of a father. After losing my mother, he never played that role. Most of the time, I was a forgotten son.”
Artemy lowered his head, burying his face in my neck. “I don’t know how to meet his gaze and express gratitude for saving you.”
Encircling his head with my arms, I caressed the nape of his neck with my fingers. “You’re mistaken. He saved us. If not for him, you would have been shot. At that moment, I don’t believe he cared whom he was rescuing-whether it was me, you, or Princess. Artemy, he’s a good man. Yes, a little lost and broken, but fundamentally good.”
Artemy’s sigh brushed against my skin before he withdrew. “Let’s go.”
Smiling, I peered into his captivating blue eyes. He took my hand, intertwining our fingers, and led me into the room.
Damian lay on the bed, with Howard by his side. As we drew closer, his gaze shifted toward us. Despite the pain etched on his face, he managed a smile. “Relieved… that both of you are safe.”
Returning his smile with a tremulous one, I replied, “Thank you… thank you so much.”
A chuckle escaped him, quickly followed by a gasp, his complexion paling. “No… don’t thank me.”
Howard glanced at us before standing up. “I’ll give you some privacy,” he mumbled before exiting the room.
I took the vacant chair beside the bed, holding Damian’s hand in mine as I examined his stomach.
Though he was covered with a sheet, I couldn’t shake off the memory of the bloodied scene from earlier. “Is the pain intense?”
Damian shook his head. “Not unbearable.”
Artemy huffed, his voice tinged with sarcasm. “No need to put up a tough front, old man.”
Those were Artemy’s first words since we entered the room. His tone held a gruff edge, and I looked up to witness his glaring contest with Damian.
In fact, both of them were engaged in an intense gaze-off.