Fractured Sky (Tattered & Torn #5)(91)

My breathing became more labored as we walked, and I slowed my pace and then stopped altogether. “I just need a minute. Those drugs—”

“Were necessary. Because of you.” Howard pressed the knife harder into my ribs.

I cried out as the blade pierced my skin.

“Lower the knife and step back.”

My head snapped up at the voice, one so sweet to my ears that I swore I was hallucinating. Ramsey stepped out from between the trees. “It’s over. Lower the weapon.”

Howard grabbed hold of my hair with one hand as he pointed the knife directly at my stomach. “Y-you’re not supposed to be here. She doesn’t belong to you. She’s mine.”

“She belongs to herself,” Ramsey said calmly, moving closer. “And you have to let her go.”

“Stop! Stay where you are, or I’ll gut her right here.”

Ramsey froze. His gaze jumped from the knife to me, and I saw so much pain in those eyes. There was nothing he could do. He had a gun but no shot. Howard was too close. Any direction he came from could end with a bullet in me, too.

“Love you, Ramsey. Love our everything.” I didn’t know if I would get another opportunity to give him those words, and I wasn’t taking the chance.

Howard’s hand fisted tighter in my hair, shaking me hard. “Shut up! You don’t speak to him.”

The knife slipped a fraction in his anger. That blade was the only power Howard had. The only control.

“Let her go, Howard.”

“She’s mine!” he screamed.

“I’ll never be yours. You’re worthless. Not even a man. Who has to steal a wife? Is it because you know that no one in their right mind would ever agree to marry you? Because you’re sick and twisted and can only get it up when you know you’re hurting someone—”

Howard slammed the blade into my stomach.

The pain stole my breath. White light danced across my vision, but I didn’t stop. I knew I only had moments. I staggered forward, trying to give Ramsey the shot.

One. Two. Three. The pops echoed in my brain. Then, I was crumpling to the ground.

My ears rang, my vision blurring. Ramsey’s face appeared.

“Shiloh.” My name tore from his throat as his hands hovered over me. “Why?”

“I had to get the knife,” I croaked. “Had to take his power.” I let out a wheezing breath. “Love you always.”

His hands went to my face. “Don’t talk like that.”

My lips tried to smile, to give him the words again, but I couldn’t get them out.

“Help’s coming. Just hold on. We’re gonna get you to the hospital and get you all fixed up.”

Wetness hit my cheeks, but it wasn’t from me. It was from Ramsey. My strong, fierce Ramsey was crying. For me. “Love you.”

The words barely passed my lips. His face swirled in my vision, melding with the sky around him, and together, there truly was nothing more beautiful: my sky and my soul. I watched them become one and then faded into them both.





48





RAMSEY





I scrubbed at my fingers. A nurse had given me a brush and said it would help. It didn’t seem like it was making a damn bit of difference. The blood was scoured into my skin, tattooed there, permanent and unwavering. That only made me scrub harder.

Images ran through my mind on repeat: the rage and delusion on Howard’s face, and the look of utter belief in me on Shiloh’s, as if she thought that simply because I was there, it would all work out.

But there was no guarantee. I should’ve known that nothing was guaranteed. Instead, Shiloh was in surgery. She’d lost so much damn blood—way too much.

“Use this.”

Hayes stepped up beside me and squirted soap onto my hands. My nose wrinkled at the scent, clearly full of chemicals and whatever killed super germs. But it cleared away the worst of the blood.

Blood that had gotten on me while trying to stop the flow as I waited for help. I swore I could still feel Shiloh’s pulse beneath my hands. I felt every heartbeat. Knew the moment they had started to slow and feel sluggish.

Hayes gripped my shoulder and squeezed hard. “You’re gonna take your skin off.”

I let the brush drop to the bottom of the sink and rinsed my hands. What difference did it make if I flayed myself on the spot? I wouldn’t be any sort of human if I lost Shiloh.

“Come on.”

Hayes gave me a light shove in the direction of the private waiting room while I dried my hands. It was the last place I wanted to go. I didn’t want to be surrounded by all that grief and fear. It would only amplify mine. It would send me back to drowning in the darkness, only this time, I didn’t have the light to brighten the shadows.

I went anyway. Because that was where Shiloh would want me to be—with the people who loved her the most.

That vise tightened around my chest. I could barely suck in air as I stepped into the room. Gabe had an arm around his wife, holding her close as she wept silently. Birdie and Sage were both pale and far too still for girls their age. Hadley and Calder kept a close eye on them, Calder linking his fingers with Hadley’s.

The gesture was second nature, but it sent an ice pick of pain to my chest. Would I get to feel Shiloh’s hand in mine again? The juxtaposition of silky and smooth, dotted with calluses. That hand was a mirror of her: tough yet tender. And everything I loved.