Rosalind I press down on the wound, using the clothes my father gave me. They’re red and I can’t stop the bleeding.
I don’t even know if I want to. I don’t know if he’s alive.
Nikolai.
His eyes are shut, and he’s not moving and he’s still the most devastatingly handsome man I’ve seen. He ripped me into shreds, more than a bullet would have, more than my father did. My mother? Oh, God.
What kind of sick fool am I?
But… Nikolai came after me, gave me his Kevlar that I’m wearing. He jumped in front of the bullet meant for me. He said…he said… he didn’t sleep with my mom, but I don’t know the truth from the lies. I don’t know what’s straight and what’s manipulation.
Worse, I don’t know if it even matters.
“Don’t die,” I whisper, even though I shouldn’t. It hurts, more than anything in the world, more than anything said here. It hurts to try and imagine a world where Nikolai isn’t living and breathing and ruling his terrible kingdom.
I’m covered in his blood and he’s not moving. I blink hard as the tears start to come. My throat’s so tight, I don’t even know if I can speak above a whisper. He asked me to stay. I wipe my face on my arms, smearing blood and tears on my skin.
“Don’t…please don’t die.”
“Rose…”
My heart lurches. A sob breaks free. “Nikolai, you’re still alive. Please, hang on.”
His eyes remain closed and suddenly, I snap shut my mouth. I still have his gun, and though my father ran like a coward, and I have no idea if one of my bullets hit him, I don’t know if we’re out of danger.
Hand still on Nikolai’s chest, I twist to see. His breathing is terrible, a grating low rattling gasp that scares me. Shit, I need to see.
“Rose…” His eyes open.
“Nikolai, I need…I need to check to see if we’re alone. Can you do this?”
I take his large hand and put it on the covered wound. Then I get up and hurry to the door, gun in hand. I know it’s empty, but it makes me feel safer somehow.
In the hall, there’s no movement, and at the other end, through the open front door, comes a sweep of bright headlights. Then there’s the roar of an engine and a car takes off. I listen as long as I dare, but no one is there. Then I turn. I need a phone. I have to call an ambulance and- A dark thought comes.
Why?
My fucking father ran like a coward. The man bleeding out, who I-the man on the ground kidnapped me and liked having sex with me enough to not want to kill me, but it doesn’t change the fact that he once said he would.
I pull off the bracelet and drop it to the ground. We’re alone, and I could just run, go, be free. Find another life, another identity. I could actually be free and never, ever look back. His groan breaks into my thoughts.
“I’m…I’m glad this time, I saved you…” His voice is slurred. He’s looking at me from dark, unfocused eyes, his fingers slipping from the wound. “I tried that night…Thorne…Rose…I tried but… Got everyone dead… And didn’t…didn’t… but this time…”
I stare at him. The man who fell when I was young, when my father beat me and my mother surrounded by his men-was that…
I was so young. I don’t know what’s memory and what’s just been put there from words and bad dreams.
I should run. Now. Save myself.
He smiles as his eyes come in to focus for a second. I think what I see is something like relief. Relief like he can see into me and see I’m thinking of running. Relief like he’s glad I’m alive.
Then, his eyes close. “Go…Rose. Live your…life…”
A cry breaks free, a wounded thing inside me howling. My heart is shards that cut and make me bleed.
I’m not my father. I’m not Nikolai. I’m me, and I do not let people die, especially not him.
With a gulping cry, I rush back and drop to my knees, ignoring the slam that resounds through me, full of pain from that move.
I press down on the wound with one hand and drop my face to his mouth. He’s breathing, barely.
“Don’t you fucking die, Nikolai. Don’t you fucking dare. I need to make you suffer, you asshole. Don’t you die on me. I have a lot of anger and you will live and deal with it, you hear?”
The words fall. Half don’t make sense. I tell him I hate him. I tell him I’m going to kill him. I tell him I’m his. I tell him I’m not. I demand, threaten, plead with him not to die. I say he’ll never see me again, and I want him to live knowing that. In the end, I just plead. His breathing is getting shallow.
“Please don’t die, please, please. I need you to live. I need you to live. Please don’t die. I’ll do anything. Just. Don’t. Die.”
My other hand is going over him, there are weapons everywhere. Bullets. All I want is a phone. Fuck. There’s a lethal switchblade. Where’s his phone? He must have it.
I don’t want to move him, but I have to. Sliding my hand under his back, I shift him, and he makes an unholy sound as his eyes open, so unfocused, I know it will give me nightmares. It’s like looking death in the face.
I hit paydirt. I pull out his phone, wasting time easing him back. Crap. Face ID. His eyes are shut again. I lean in close. “Open your fucking eyes you no good piece of shit.” He doesn’t.
I sob brokenly. “Please Nikolai. It’s Rose, please open your eyes for me. You’re a moron for getting shot for me. Open your eyes so you can live and punish me for ruining your plans.” They stay shut, and I wave the phone in front of his face. “For me. Show me you care. Pretend you love me, Nikolai. Please.”
His eyes open and the phone unlocks. A wild burst of adrenaline streaks through me, and I go to contacts, fingers shaking as I find Rush. I hit call. It takes him way too long to answer. After the fourth ring he does. “Niko-”
“Rush, please!” I’m crying now, my words a panicked rush. “It’s Nikolai.”
“Rosalind? What happened?”
“My-My father shot him. I’m calling an ambulance-”
“No. I know where you are. We’re on our way.”
I look at Nikolai, who isn’t moving. I don’t know if even he’s breathing.
“Please,” I say. “Please hurry. He’s… He’s dying.”