Never Far Away (The Never #2)(92)

“You’re just jealous,” Ella said, sneering at him.

He laughed at her remark.

“I’m not jealous. What do I have to be jealous of?”

“Last time we were in the apartment you tried to get me to spread my legs for you and it didn’t work, did it? As I recall, I kicked your ass that night. And you had to find someone else to shoot me cause you’re too chicken shit to do it yourself.” He came right up to her and placed the cold barrel of the gun against her forehead, and she immediately thought she had pushed him too far. She closed her eyes, waiting for whatever happens after you get shot in the head. Pain? The blinding light everyone was always talking about? Then she saw Porter in her mind. She saw his smile light up his face, she felt his hands on her waist, and his nose flip the tip of hers. She felt him all around her and knew that she couldn’t give in this easily to Kyle. She owed it to Porter to give him their happy forever. She opened her eyes and all she saw was the hand holding the gun pressed into her head.

“You’re just a coward. You need to hold women at gunpoint and rape them to get what you want out of them. I’ve got my hands tied behind my back and a gun pressed up against my f*cking head, and you still wouldn’t be able to get to me. I guarantee it,” she said, spitting the words towards him, hoping he would take the bait.

“Fuck you,” he said, his voice filled with quiet rage.

“You couldn’t if you tried,” she flung at him, hoping she hit her target.

Just as she was hoping, he reacted. She felt herself being pushed down on the couch as he climbed on top of her. He switched the gun into his left hand, pointing it directly at her chest, right in between her breasts. He held the gun on her, flush with her skin, and used his other hand to try and pry open the fly of her jeans.

“You’re such a bitch. I’m going to show you what kind of a man I am and you’re going to take it.”

Her arms were still behind her back and she was still clutching the knife in her right hand. She waited for her one chance. She knew she would only have one shot to save herself, because with one pull of his finger she would be dead.

He still looked her in the eyes, telling her how much of a dirty whore she was and how badly he was going to f*ck her up. She didn't really listen. She tried to concentrate on his eyes. When she saw him finally look down at her zipper, because the dumbass couldn’t even get her zipper down without looking, she moved quicker than she’d ever moved in her life.

She pulled her right arm out from under her and plunged the knife blade into his left hand that held the gun. When all of this was over, she would think back about what it felt like when the blade sank into flesh, and the sudden halt the knife made when it hit bone and ground up against it. She would remember how the vibrations of the blade scraping along the tendons could be felt up her own hand through the handle of the knife. She couldn’t think about it in the moment, she needed to keep moving.

He cried out in pain and let go of the gun, staring at his hand with a small knife sticking out of it. Ella couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw the other end of the blade poking through the palm of his hand. Using his pain as a distraction, she quickly grabbed a hold of the gun he’d dropped on her chest. He saw what she was doing and fumbled for the gun at the same time. She cried out, trying to find purchase on the one thing that was going to get her out of this alive. He struggled as well, one hand rendered completely useless. She sounded terrified, her wails only accentuating the fact that she knew everything could end right then.

Both of them had their hands on the gun and nothing could have prepared her for the loudest noise she would ever hear. The sound of the bullet leaving the chamber was more like a sonic boom than anything else. She could smell the gunpowder, smell the sulfur, and the hot steel raged in her hands. One thing she couldn’t feel was pain. There was no pain and that was a blessing. If she had to die, she was glad there would be no pain. She closed her eyes and pictured Porter once more in her mind, the way he looked that night of their first date pressing her body up against his truck, kissing her for the first time. She would never have enough kisses with him. She felt the warmth of blood spreading over her chest, creeping into all the crevasses created by her body and her clothes. She never expected to feel warm in death, but was thankful at least for that small favor.

She also felt enormous pressure against her chest, a heavy weight pressing down on her making it hard to breath. She guessed, perhaps, she’d been shot in the lung and maybe that was why she was having a hard time breathing. She waited for her breaths to slow, to feel herself succumb to the death she had been fighting so hard to avoid, but it never came.

Her eyes fluttered open and all she could see was the ceiling. Her arms were being held to her chest and when she looked down to see what was pinning them down, she saw Kyle’s body slumped over onto hers. Realization hit her as if she’d had a bucket of ice water poured down her back.

She pushed Kyle’s body off of hers, rolling him onto the floor next to the couch. She saw his shirt covered in blood and when she looked down at her chest she was covered in blood as well. But looking at his pale face and the hole in his tee-shirt, she guessed the blood came from him and not her after all.

She stared at his body lying there, not moving, and wondered what she was supposed to do. She was afraid to do anything, fearing that if she made too much noise he might wake up. Unless he was dead. She watched his chest for signs of breathing, but saw nothing. She shook so badly though, she wasn’t sure she would be able to detect such a small movement anyway. She took a few steadying breaths and then reached down to his body pressing her fingers against his neck to check for a pulse. She didn’t feel anything, so she moved her fingers around trying to make sure they were located on the correct place on his neck to feel his pulse. Still nothing.