Fallen Death (The Trihune Series Book 3)

by RB Austin

  “Momma!”

  A shot rang out and Asjhone choked on a scream. Sarid jerked back. Fell to the ground.

  She was at his side. Blood, mixing with rain, pooled from a wound in his stomach. His eyes were closed. “No. No, no, no.” She placed her hands over the injury, pressed down. “Sarid? Sarid?” A hand closed around her upper arm. Yanked her off the ground. She was jerked into the motel room and thrown onto the bed.

  “You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you, bitch? Of course you are. You’re a slut. A whore! How many times have you spread your legs since you’ve been gone?”

  Asjhone shoved away the urge to collapse into a fetal position, to shake and cover her head until Wayne’s rage passed. Today she had to be strong. The gun Wayne used to shoot Sarid was on the table. He paced in front of it. Keandre, oh her baby, sat in the far corner of the room, back against the wall, hands covering his ears. His gaze was on her. Relief surged, making her feel faint. He appeared unharmed, but a second sweep caught redness on his cheek. She rose from the bed, placed herself between Wayne and Keandre.

  “. . . think you can leave me? You’re coming back. And I’ll make sure you never leave again.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  Her head jerked back seconds before the pain in her cheek registered. She hadn’t even sucked in air when he’d struck again.

  “Momma!”

  She was falling. Her head slammed against the floor. Blood was in her mouth.

  “Don’t you hurt my Momma!”

  Asjhone forced her eyes open, dizzy, seeing double. Her baby was standing, glaring at Wayne. “Keandre, don’t.” But it was too late. He threw his basketball. It sailed through the air and thumped into Wayne’s leg.

  Wayne stepped over her, fists clenched, face contorted in fury. “Did you just throw your ball at me? Look at me when I’m talking to you, boy. Did you just throw your ball? At me!”

  Terror trickled down her spine. She pushed to her hands and knees. Ignored the pain in her head and shoulder.

  “Your mother didn’t teach you manners, but I’m here now and you’ll know your place. It’s time you learned respect.”

  “Wayne! Don’t touch my son.”

  He spun. Surprise marred his features before quickly morphing back into anger. “Who’s going to stop me?”

  She raised her arm. The gun shook in her grip.

  He laughed. “What are you going to do with that?”

  She clasped her other hand around the piece, steadied it. “Keandre, go into the bathroom. Lock the door.” She was hearing her own words though an echo. The world took on a new dimension. Not real.

  “Momma?”

  “Do as I say, lil’ man.” A dream-like quality. A nightmare.

  Her son did what he was told. Wayne’s gaze held hers, promising retribution. “I won’t let you harm my son, Wayne.”

  His cocky smile dimmed. “You need to relearn your place.” His eyes flared as they ran over her body. “I’ll enjoy teaching you.”

  The door burst open. Asjhone jumped.

  “You won’t lay one finger on her,” Sarid growled. He was pale. One hand over his stomach. The other braced against the doorjamb.

  Relief flooded her. He was okay. She lowered her arm, stepped toward him.

  “You’re mine, bitch.”

  Asjhone whirled.

  Wayne lunged, reaching for the gun.

  She tightened her grip. Tried to pivot. To use her body as cover.

  He punched her in the side. Sarid roared. Air rushed out of her lungs. By the time she could take a painful breath in, her hands were empty. Wayne had the gun.

  Sarid was in front of Wayne, growls rising in volume. His fist shot out.

  Wayne’s head jerked back.

  Another hit. Crack.

  Blood spurted out of Wayne’s nose.

  The gun went off.

  Keandre screamed from inside the bathroom.

  Wayne flew across the room. He crashed into the wall, cracking the drywall. Slid to the ground. Didn’t move.

  Asjhone turned just as Sarid fell to his knees, then slumped to the ground right next to the gun.

  “Sarid!” Another wound. In his chest. By his heart. Blood streamed out of the hole. Gunshots to the stomach and chest. Both fatal.

  “Get away from him! I said you’re mine.” Wayne was standing. Using the wall as support.

  Without thinking, Asjhone picked up the gun, turned, and pulled the trigger.

  Wayne jolted, eyes wide. He glanced at his chest, then back up. Stepped toward her, arm outstretched. She shot him again. And, again. He dropped to the ground.

  Still aiming, she watched blood seep from underneath his body. She was breathing hard, shaking. Her ears were ringing. She swallowed. Swallowed again.

  “Momma?”

  Keandre’s high-pitched tone reached her. The gun fell from her hands. She ran to the bathroom door. “It’s okay.” She had to clear her throat. Try again. “Keandre. You can come out. It’s okay.” The door opened slowly. Keandre peeked out.

  “Momma?”

  Asjhone scooped her son into her arms. “Oh, God, my poor baby. Are you okay? Did he hurt you? I’m sorry. So sorry.”

  Keandre wrapped his arms around her neck, so tight it was hard to catch a breath. Dizziness had returned, but she didn’t care. Didn’t tell him to let go. “Don’t look, lil’ man.” She carried him past Wayne. “Don’t look,” she said again and set him down next to Sarid, his back to Wayne.

  “What happened to Mr. Sarid? Is he okay, Momma?”

  Asjhone pressed her fingers to Sarid’s carotid artery. Gaze glued to his chest, praying for movement. Nothing. Hands on his shoulder, she rolled him toward her. Peered at his back, searching for exit wounds. Found only one.

  A bullet was still lodged either very near or in his heart.

  His heart. Could he come back from that?

  No. Don’t think like that.

  She whipped out the phone Cade had given her. Held down the one button.

  “Hello.”

  The phone cradled between her ear and shoulder, she began compressions. “Sarid’s been shot. He lost a lot of blood. Not conscious. No pulse.”

  “We’re five minutes away. Did you call an ambulance?”

  “No.” Sirens sounded in the distance. “But someone did.”

  “Shit. Don’t let them take him. They can’t help.”

  Asjhone raised her head, let the phone drop to the floor as she plugged Sarid’s nose and breathed into his mouth. Once. Twice. Then started compressions again. “Keandre, there’s a bag outside. On the ground by Mr. Sarid’s truck. Get the shirt out of it and bring it back here.” Keandre took off.

  “Don’t you die on me,” she whispered fiercely. “I need you.” She placed her mouth against his, gave two more breaths.

  Keandre returned.

  “Place the shirt over his chest.” She watched her son while counting to thirty in her head. “Good. Then press down on the wound. As hard as you can.”

  “Like I’m strong as Thor, Momma.”

  “Yes, lil’ man. As strong as Thor.” Two more breaths.

  She lost count on how many reps, how many times she checked for a pulse and found none. Her gaze didn’t leave Sarid’s face, waiting for his eyes to open. His head to move. For him to gasp.

  The bullet might not have hit his heart. Probably was just next to it. Hard to tell without an x-ray.

  Then it happened.

  A small intake of breath. She slowed compressions. His eyelids fluttered. “Sarid? Sarid?”

  His gaze roamed, found her.

  “Stay with me. Cade’s coming. Stay with me.”

  His mouth moved
.

  “Ssshh, don’t talk. Lie still. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” She took over for Keandre. “I’m sorry I pushed you away.”

  He stared at her.

  “Don’t leave me. Please.” Emotions rose in her throat. She forced them down. “Promise me.”

  His gaze trailed over her face again.

  “Sarid! Promise me.”

  “Promise,” he breathed.

  There were squeals from outside. The police. Were they here already? Seconds later, Lucas and Gabe raced in the room. Keandre pressed against her side. “Momma?”

  “It’s okay. These are Sarid’s friends.

  “Let me see,” Gabe said softly.

  Her lower lip trembled. She cleared her throat. “As soon as I move my hand, the blood will begin to flow again. I’ve just slowed it down. And, the bullet, I don’t know . . .”

  “We’ve got it, sweetheart. Trust us.”

  “Don’t call her that.” Sarid was barely audible.

  Gabe shook his head. “Even half dead he’s protective as a dog with a bone.” He looked at her. Winked. “Not that you resemble a bone. At all.”

  “Gabriel.” Sarid’s tone was a warning and now he was trying to sit up.

  Asjhone pressed on his shoulder. “Ssshh, you need to lie still. Gabe won’t say anything else inappropriate. Right, Gabe?” Her eyes didn’t lift from Sarid.

  “Of course not, pretty lady. If that’s what you want.”

  “Gabe, come on, man,” Lucas said.

  “Seriously!” Asjhone hissed at the same time. “Why are you screwing around? Sarid needs help. If you’re just going to be an ass, then move out of the way and let me do what I can.”

  Gabe stared at her, mouth falling open. “Wow, you’re almost as scary as Sarid.” He held his hands up when she glared. “I’m sorry. No more jokes.”

  “What’s the situation?” Cade stepped into the room, eyebrows lifted as his gaze bounced from Asjhone to Gabe, then to Wayne on the floor, partially blocked by the bed.

  “Gabe’s being an idiot,” Lucas said.

  “That him?” Cade asked, motioning with his head. “Your husband.”

  “Yes. He’s . . .” She glanced at Keandre then back at Cade, suppressed a shudder, shook her head.

  Cade nodded once.

  Lucas hands hovered over Asjhone’s, where she still applied pressure. He glanced at her. “May I?”

  At Sarid’s nod, she sat back on her knees. Keandre scooted closer and she pulled him into her arms.

  Lucas lifted the blood soaked shirt. “How many shots?”

  “Two. One in the stomach that went right through. The other in his chest. Close to his heart. The bullet’s still in there.”

  Lucas peered into the chest wound, poked at it with his finger. Sarid winced.

  Asjhone bit her bottom lip. “Are you sure you should be doing that?”

  “Trust us.” Gabe’s smile faded when he spied the hole in Sarid’s stomach. “We know what we’re doing.” He pushed up his sleeve. “No cup, my ach. I’m sorry.”

  “A cup?” Asjhone asked.

  Cade glanced behind him to the open door, head tilting. “We don’t have much time. Gabe, start giving him blood. Lucas, you and I will carry him to the Hummer.” They moved into position. Gabe bit the inside of his wrist, held it over Sarid’s mouth.

  A strangled moan tore from Sarid’s throat when they lifted him. “Sorry, brother,” Cade said.

  “Just drink, Sarid,” Gabe said gently.

  Gabe had told her they needed blood to survive. Her mind had conjured images of bagged blood, a needle in the arm, tube running from the bag to the needle. Nothing like this.

  “Blood will help?” She rose with them, Keandre in her arms. Gabe kept his wrist over Sarid’s mouth, not touching his skin, just letting the blood drip into his mouth. Sarid’s eyes were closed. Every so often he’d swallow, then open his mouth again before the next drop. Their movements were practiced. How many times had Sarid been injured?

  “He’ll be as good as new as soon as we get the bullet out,” Lucas said. “It’s too deep for me to extract here, plus APD are coming. We need to get out of here.”

  She raced ahead of them and opened the Hummer’s rear door.

  “Hold up, my ach.” Gabe brought his wrist to his mouth, licked the puncture marks, then helped Lucas and Cade set Sarid inside. Lucas jogged to the back of the vehicle. He climbed through the hatch and lowered the seat, creating a large enough area for Sarid to stretch out. Gabe kneeled next to him, wrist dripping over Sarid’s open mouth again. Asjhone lowered Keandre to the floor behind the driver’s seat. She started to climb in.

  “Wait,” Cade said. “You need to stay here.”

  “No, I want to go with Sarid.”

  Sarid’s eyes opened and he glanced from her to Cade.

  “You have to talk to the police. Explain what happened here,” Cade said.

  Her stomach plummeted.

  Wayne. The gun. He was dead. By her hands.

  Nausea rose. Would they take Keandre away from her? The blood drained from her face. She braced a hand on the doorjamb.

  He was a big shot lawyer from New York. She was a nobody.

  “And you can’t say anything. About Sarid. Or us.”

  Asjhone stared at Cade, not really seeing him. “I understand.” She was alone in this. Her gaze found Keandre. The lines between his eyebrows were pronounced. The red mark still prominent on his cheek. Water dripped down the sides of his face from his wet hair. He was shivering. Blood stained his hands.

  She’d shot his father. Now he was watching Sarid drink blood. She put a hand to her forehead, staggered back. Maybe they should take him away from her. She was unfit.

  “Asjhone?”

  It was Sarid who called her. He pushed Gabe’s hand away, tried to sit up. He shouldn’t be moving. The bullet could shift at any moment.

  Two police cars zoomed into the parking lot. Lights flashed. Sirens blared.

  “Oh, God.” Spots dashed in front of her eyes.

  “Momma?” Keandre’s voice was high, scared.

  “Angel, what is it?” Sarid, with Gabe supporting him, was mostly upright. He reached for her, winced, placed a hand on his sternum before grabbing her with his other, pulling her close. She stumbled, still focused on the police. They were getting out of their cars, guns drawn.

  “I shot him.” Her voice quivered. “I shot him.”

  “I know,” Sarid said softly, and tugged on her hand until she met his gaze. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. That I hadn’t made—”

  “No, you don’t understand.” She glanced back at the parking lot. Gasped. The policemen where . . . they . . . not moving? . . . But . . . frozen? “What’s going on?”

  Sarid twisted to look out the back window, sucked in a breath, hand on his chest flexing and unflexing. “They are under Cade’s control.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “He’ll keep them that way until we’re ready.”

  “You need to lie down,” she said.

  “That’s really cool!” Keandre leaned on Sarid to peer outside. “Can you do that, too? What if I jump in the air? Can you freeze me in the air? Can you?”

  Faint amusement crossed over Sarid’s face. “Not right now.” Then his eyes narrowed, zeroed in on Keandre’s cheek.

  “Don’t lean on Mr. Sarid. He’s hurt.” She moved Keandre to the side, pushed on Sarid’s shoulder. “Lay down, please.”

  “Told you,” Gabe said with a smirk. He was gazing over her shoulder, talking to Lucas. “He’s different around her. And the boy.”

  “Asjhone.” Sarid’s voice was low, soothing.

  Was he really not breathing a few minutes ago?

  “What’s
the matter?” he asked.

  She shook her head. Swallowed. The police wouldn’t stay frozen forever. “You’re injured. You need to relax. Get the help you need.” She forced herself to step away. “Just please, take Keandre with you.” Panic bubbled at the thought of being separated from her boy again, but if he wasn’t there they couldn’t take him away. Sarid would protect him.

  “You need to keep Keandre with you,” Lucas said. “Explain what happened.”

  “No—” She spun to face him.

  “It was self-defense. They need to see Keandre. You’ll tell them the truth. Your husband took your son. When you went to get him back, he grew violent.” His gaze lowered, roamed over the side of her face.

  She lifted a hand to her cheek. It was tender. Swollen. Lip, too. Her right eye felt puffy, probably would turn black. Thankfully she could still see out of it. For now. “They won’t believe me. I’m a nobody. Wayne’s—”

  “You’re not a nobody,” Sarid growled from behind her. He grasped her hand, squeezed it. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that again.”

  “But what if they take him away from me?” She dropped her voice. Glanced from Sarid to Lucas. “Call CPS.”

  Lucas answered before Sarid could. “We won’t let that happen.”

  She studied Lucas’s face. How could he keep that promise? In the end, though, she had no other choice. She couldn’t run. Not anymore.

  “I’m sorry, my ach,” Lucas said to Sarid. “I know you want to stay, but—”

  “No. He can’t stay. He needs that bullet removed.” Asjhone examined Sarid. The wound in his chest had begun weeping again. “And why are you still sitting up? I told you to lie down. Gabe, he needs more blood.”

  Gabe grinned before biting his wrist. “I like her.”

  Asjhone glanced once more at the officers in mid-motion. Bit her bottom lip. “Come here, Keandre.” She swept him into her arms. Met Sarid’s gaze.