God of Pain (Legacy of Gods #2)(94)

“No.”

It’s a death wish, I think. For a moment, thoughts like ‘I should’ve died with my mother’ invade my mind.

What’s the point of living if I’m too attached to the past?

What’s the point of living if I’m tearing the one person who made me feel alive to pieces?

Even if I somehow get past the burning rage and put a stop to this, I’ll never be with her again.

It’s the end.

I turn around and stab Jeremy in the arm.

A shot rings in the air, coupled with an equally loud sob.

A sound I’ll never forget for as long as I live.

A sound that will haunt me to my grave.

Pain explodes in my chest and a smile curves my lips as I sway and fall toward the ground.

She said she didn’t miss and she meant it.

But I don’t hit the ground. Instead, I’m held by Landon.

He stares at me with his soulless eyes and it’s fucking sad that he’s the one I see last.

It could’ve at least been Eli.

But I guess someone like me doesn’t get to choose.

“Creigh! Can you hear me?”

I grab him by the collar and use the last breaths in my lungs to choke out, “T-tell…Mum and…Dad…t-that I-I’m sorry…”

The last sight I catch is blurred blue-gray eyes and the last thing I hear is my custom-made Grim Reaper calling my name.

But I’m already gone.

The rage dulls to nothingness and I close my eyes.

It’s finally…over.





29





ANNIKA





No.

No.

Just no.

This must be a nightmare. If I wake up, I’ll find myself back to two days ago. In the grocery store, holding Creighton’s hand and talking about everything and nothing.

This time, I won’t let Jeremy find us, and if he does, I won’t leave with him. I’ll grab Creigh’s hand and stay.

I’ll take him with me and run.

That way, everything will be okay. Everything will go back to normal, and I won’t be trapped in this nightmare.

It’s strange, the type of thoughts that run through your head when everything else cancels itself out. When it’s white noise, bleak silence, and red.

Lots of red.

Blood red.

Red. Red. Red.

I don’t know how I end up on my knees. I don’t walk to where he fell. I crawl on the rough surface with the uncoordinated speed of an injured animal.

My vision is blind to all the people surrounding us and my ears are deaf to the shouts and chaotic noise.

The only sound I hear is a long buzz and the only thing I see is him and red.

He’s all red.

Because of my gun. The one I shouldn’t have brought with me when I found out Jeremy was in danger. The one I should’ve kept in the car and not slipped beneath my hoodie.

My body rolls or maybe it’s the room that’s spinning in an irregular rhythm. Maybe my prayers will be answered and I will wake up from this nightmare.

Now, please.

Someone wake me up.

Instead of opening my eyes, I sink my hands into that red, all dark and sticky and not where it’s supposed to. It should be inside him, not outside.

Through a blur, I lift my hand to stare at the blood that’s coating my fingers and then at the body it’s left.

Someone, Landon, presses both his hands on the gash in Creigh’s back harshly, where more of his life essence escapes.

On and on, it keeps flowing, forming a pool beneath his body.

Creighton’s face is pale, lacks expression, and his eyes are closed, causing his lashes to flutter on his cheeks.

His massive build is unmoving, lifeless.

He…looks nothing like the Creighton I know.

People might see him as gloomy, too silent, or too cold, but he’s the one who made me feel alive.

The one who changed everything.

And I took it away.

Everything.

All of it.

I think I’m going to throw up.

Just when nausea clogs my throat, a strong hand pulls me by the arm. For a moment, I think it’s that wake-up call I’ve been praying for.

Maybe it’s Creigh, who’s calling me a sleepyhead—when he’s way worse—and he’s surprising me with a date.

Maybe he’ll watch Pride and Prejudice with me again, call me a hopeless romantic, then fuck me.

Maybe Tiger will have a Peeping Tom session and he’ll be irrationally jealous about it.

So I let it happen. Closing my eyes, I chalk the whole scene up to a horrible nightmare.

The nightmare of all nightmares.

I wait for the ball that’s clogging my throat to disappear. I wait for the trembling in my limbs to subside and the stickiness to vanish from my fingers.

It gets worse.

Seeps deeper.

Closes my throat further.

When I open my eyes, I’m being shoved in the direction of a car, fresh tears streaming down my cheeks as I catch a glimpse of Jeremy.

His brow is furrowed as he studies the Elites’ circular driveway.

“No,” I murmur, clutching my head with my bloodied hands. “No, no, no, no…a nightmare, a nightmare, this is only a nightmare…”