Rosslyn looked at me, confusion tugging at her brows. “What’s he talking about?”
My eyes locked on Anthony. I knew exactly who he was talking about. For years, he’d followed Vick around like a puppy, so in love with her that he looked pathetic. Meanwhile, she wanted nothing to do with him. She only used him. And when the time came for her to choose between Anthony and the streets or me and the club, she’d chose me. She’d always choose me.
“Vick,” I said her name.
I hadn’t said her name out loud in many months. It burned my tongue as the memories of our lives together came rushing over me. She was gone, and as sick as it was, a tiny part of me still missed the girl she was before she turned on Rosslyn and me.
“He was in love with Vick.”
“A life for a life,” Rosslyn repeated the words from his letter. “Wait, you think Sebastian killed …”
I cut her off.
“You’re right,” I said loudly over Rosslyn. “I took Vick away from you. I took her. Not Rosslyn. She didn’t do anything. She has nothing to do with this. Let her go,” I negotiated. “Let her go. I’m the one you want. Let’s end this. Me and you.”
Anthony shook his head and bit into his bottom lip.
“I fucking loved her, Sebastian. I loved her, and you took her away from me.”
My eyes moved over Rosslyn noticing that she was completely untied now.
“Yeah, but she didn’t love you. She never did.”
“You poisoned her mind—made her think I was dirt.”
“No,” I snapped. “You did that on your own. She wanted out of that life, man. She wanted out, and you stayed in. You want to blame me for taking her away from you, then fine, but let Rosslyn go. She has nothing to do with any of this,” I repeated.
He rested the gun against his hip and used the back of his other arm to wipe away the sweat on his forehead.
“Yep. She wanted out of the life. She left me behind for you and look where that landed her. Dead. She’s fucking dead. You killed her, and now, you’re going to pay. A life for a life, Black. It’s only fair.”
I panicked when he lifted the gun once again. My spine stiffened as I settled myself in front of Rosslyn.
“She had nothing to do with Vick’s death. It was me. I’m the one who killed her … not Rosslyn.” I swallowed hard. “I know you, Anthony. You’d never take an innocent life. She’s innocent. I’m the one you want.”
“No!” Rosslyn cried. “Sebastian …”
Anthony laughed.
“This is fucking rich. Sebastian Black playing the fucking knight in shining armor.” His laughter broke, and he swiped at the moisture around his eyes. “I hate to break it to you, man, but chivalry is dead. It doesn’t matter anyway. I have a much better plan.”
“And what plan is that?”
At this point, I was just trying to keep him talking until I could figure out my next move.
“Since we’re all here, there’s no need to keep the suspense going any longer. It’s simple really.” He moved closer, his shadow engulfing the space behind him. “I’m going to kill Rosslyn, and you’re going to take the blame for it. You’ll spend the rest of your life in prison knowing that you’re the reason the woman you love is dead.”
I closed my eyes at his words—the world around me slowed, and I could hear Rosslyn’s hyperventilating breaths behind me. This was it. This was the moment. I’d die before he hurt her.
Looking over at her, her eyes locked on mine. The fear in them crushed me. I’d failed her. I’d failed the woman I loved and I’d failed at being a good father before our child was even born.
What else could I expect?
I came from a shitty father—one that left me like a piece of trash—so it was only reasonable that I’d be a shitty father, as well.
“Say goodbye, Sebastian.”
I faced Anthony again, prepared to make my move, when suddenly Anthony’s hand dropped to his side, the gun dropping to the floor with the loud pop. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell forward with a grunt revealing Mac, who was standing behind him with the heel of his gun in the air. He’d knocked him out.
Mac moved into the light, blood smeared the side of his face and the side of his lip. He looked like shit, like he’d fought a damn good fight, but none of that mattered. He was there, and I’d never been so happy to see him.
“About time.” I sighed. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“The fucker came out of nowhere and hit me outside the club. He must’ve dragged me inside.” Mac winced, rubbing the side of his head. “I hope he pulled a muscle pulling me around.”
I chuckled as relief moved over me.
Reaching down, I pulled Rosslyn into my arms and breathed her in. “Let’s get you out of here,” I said, before turning my attention to Mac. “Hold him here. I’ll deal with him when I get back.”
“I’m sorry, Black. It was my job to keep her safe.”
I shook my head as Rosslyn and I moved toward the door. “No. Protecting her is my job.”
Mac opened the office door for us, and the music from downstairs rushed into the room.
I kissed Rosslyn’s forehead as we made our way toward the door. Tears moved down over her cheeks and her skin was still pale. This kind of stress couldn’t be good for the baby. “It’s okay, baby. I promise you’re okay now.”
The distinct sound of a gun cocking had everything freezing.
“I told you not to make promises you can’t keep,” Anthony’s voice rang out from behind us.
I turned, bringing Rosslyn with me. Anthony stood, blood dripped from over his left eye and streamed down his cheek. His gun was pointed directly at Rosslyn and my world stopped spinning once again.
“I told you, Sebastian. She’s not walking out of here alive.”
“No, Kevin, don’t,” Rosslyn begged, one hand guarding her stomach, the other held out defensively. “I’m pregnant.”
Anthony’s jaw twitched with tension, and the gun shook slightly in his hand. His eyes dropped to Rosslyn’s stomach where her hand rested, her fingers clutching her shirt in her fist.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes finding hers. “But I don’t care. He has to pay.”
The gun fired and the dim room flashed with light.
I stood paralyzed by the sounds of people screaming in the club downstairs. Obviously, they’d heard the shot, but still, I couldn’t comprehend what was happening around me.
And then he fired again, the impact knocking me back.
I pulled Rosslyn down with me and rolled my body on top of hers as if to protect her, but it was too late. The damage had been done.
Her eyes found mine, and my name rushed from her blood-spotted lips in a broken whisper. Her face went pale, her skin clammy and bloodstained as her body went limp in my arms.
I looked down between us and blood that should have been mine was spreading in the fabric of her light shirt. My hand covered the wound beneath her breast and I applied pressure.
Behind me, more gunshots sounded, the lights of the gun firing flashing, but I didn’t care. My attention was on Rosslyn and Rosslyn only.
“No!” I screamed. “Rosslyn, talk to me. Open your eyes and look at me, baby.”
But she didn’t move. Her eyes remained closed and her breathing slowed. Ripping my phone from my side, I pounded in the numbers 911.
I didn’t remember what I said to the operator. I only remember screaming every word into my phone and begging for someone, anyone, to help.
I didn’t know what happened to Anthony. I didn’t see him or Mac again. I only saw Rosslyn’s deathly pale face and the blood that spotted her perfect complexion.
The ambulance came, the lights filling the night sky outside of Clive’s. I rode in the back with her, the ride feeling like days instead of minutes. I held her limp hand in mine while the paramedics worked to save her life, and again, I prayed that she would survive—that she’d come back to me—that our baby would be
okay.
I was as good as dead at that moment.
My life draining from my body as her life drained from hers.
But then she opened her eyes, her mouth opening behind the plastic oxygen mask as she sucked in a deep breath of life.
Her fingers tightened on mine and her eyes begged me to take away the pain. It was more than I could stand.
I cried.
“The baby,” she cried behind the mask.
I couldn’t do anything. Instead, I smoothed away the hair at the side of her face and let my thumb smooth away the tears that escaped the corner of her eye. Nothing compared to watching the woman you love suffer in pain—physical and emotional—as she cried for our baby, as she cried in pain from her wound.
I would have preferred torture with a hot poker—I would have preferred death. Her hot tears and painful moans were too much. It was breaking me—stealing my life force with every shallow breath she took. I was dying with her. I was in pain with her. And like her, I was bleeding out. My heart was breaking, and I felt as if I were bleeding to death at her side.
She screamed in agony and the paramedics continued to work on her, pushing me to the side.
I couldn’t do this. I wouldn’t sit there and watch her die.
Leaning back out of the way and against the inside wall of the emergency vehicle, for the first time in my life, I felt like I was going to faint. It wasn’t manly, but neither was not being able to protect your woman.
I’d done this to her. I’d put her life in danger and when she finally took her last breath, there would be no one to blame but me. Like her parents, I was responsible. I’d murdered her just as surely as I’d murdered them.
I’d planned to spend the rest of my life making it up to her. I’d planned to spend the rest of my life with her, but evidently, I was paying for my sins. The woman I loved was dying in front of my eyes, and there was nothing I could do.
I was a powerful man. I didn’t know what to do with the powerless feelings that moved through me, but when my eyes found hers and I saw her begging for me in their depths, I moved to her side. Twisting my fingers with hers, I squeezed.
“I’m here, baby. I’ll never leave you. Never.”
And then she sucked in a deep breath, but she never had a chance to exhale.
I DIED.
I watched the woman I love take her final breath and die in the back of an ambulance, my child tucked sweetly inside of her. Losing Rosslyn was a pain that I could never put into words, but losing Rosslyn and our child was unbearable.
Rosslyn would never get to hold our baby. She would never get to watch him or her grow and learn. I had taken that from her—I’d taken it from myself—my past and all the mistakes I’d made had taken life. Light. Love. It had taken everything. I had single-handedly taken everything Rosslyn had in this world including her life.
When we pulled up to the hospital and they rushed her out of the back of the ambulance and through the hospital doors, I stood there on the sidewalk, my body completely shutting down. I wanted to follow her, but I couldn’t force my legs to move. I couldn’t stand facing the end of everything I loved—the end of Rosslyn—the end of me. Going inside the hospital doors would be just that.
The end.
The fucking end.
Looking to the sky, I silently begged God to take me with them—my love and our child.
I pleaded.
Bargained.
How could I survive in this world without them?
How could I continue to live—breathe—when I didn’t deserve the right?
And then, when I felt the asphalt against my knees, I let it all melt away and went into a complete and total state of shock. I knew this hell all too well. I’d been here before when Rosslyn’s parents had been killed because of my stupidity. I’d never taken a life before them, and now, I had taken four. My heart began to slow in what I hoped was the sweet release of death, and everything went numb.
I clutched my chest, natural panic overwhelming me when I realized I wasn’t able to breathe. I sucked in and it was as if the atmosphere around Earth had lost all its oxygen.
Seconds melted into minutes—minutes into hours.
The world around me slowly lit up, and I closed my eyes against its brightness and sighed, hoping the light signified the ethereal glow of heaven and not the sun slowly coming up and forcing me to greet yet another day.
Somehow I’d moved from the ground and I was sitting on the bench just outside the emergency doors. I must have been moved, but I couldn’t remember it. My brain wasn’t function properly.
In the distance, I heard someone talking to me, but the world had turned into a blur of black and white nothing—colorless and dead.
And then as if I’d been zapped by life itself, I took a deep breath and the world focused.
“Black!” Mac’s large hands grabbed at my shoulders, shaking me back to life. “Snap out of it. Rosslyn needs you and the nurse said she’s asking for you.”
“What?” My voice cracked from disuse.
I’d heard him wrong. Perhaps I hadn’t died and gone to heaven, but instead, I was in hell where I belonged. I’d spend eternity burning and reliving her death on repeat.
“She’s asking for you,” Mac repeated.
My eyes moved over his bulky form, taking in his ripped suit and the blood that marred his collar. I didn’t ask whose it was. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t care.
“Rosslyn?” I questioned, still unable to fully believe what he was saying. “Rosslyn’s alive??”
“Yes,” he confirmed slowly, letting the simple word sink in. “It was touch and go in surgery, but she’s awake now, and she’s asking for you.”
I don’t know how long I sat outside the hospital, but at some point during my prayers and slow death, the doctors had brought my love back to life—back to me.
She’d died.
I’d watched her die, but after hours of surgery, she was somewhere in the building behind me and she was breathing.
Awake.
Alive.
I’d forever be grateful.
Forever.
My knees were stiff and my legs tingled when Mac pulled me to my feet. My hands were covered in dry, cracked blood when I looked down at them and I quickly tried to wipe her blood from my skin.
The sterile smells of the hospital stung my nose when I went through the automatic doors. Nurses looked at me like I was crazed, but I stared ahead—on a mission to get to her. The elevator ride started out quiet with only Mac’s heavy breathing at my side.
“I can’t stay long,” Mac said at my side. “It won’t be long until they’re here for me.”
I couldn’t speak, but I looked over at him and waited for him to explain.
“The police.” He cleared his throat and his steely eyes connected with mine. “I blew his fucking brains out for you, Black. Just like you asked.” And then the side of his mouth lifted in a self-deprecating grin. “Sorry about your office, by the way. It’s a fucking mess.”
Anthony was gone.
Dead.
Blown to bits on every square inch of my office.
And I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
“You’ll be out before the judge lifts the gavel. Don’t worry about a thing. I got you.”
And I did.
Mac wouldn’t serve time in prison. If it took every dime I had to grease the palms of every dirty politician or judge, he’d be a free man.
He nodded, his trusting eyes moving over my face and accepting my words.
When the elevator doors opened, I stepped onto the intensive care floor unsure of what I’d find.
I walked the long hallway to her room—the green mile—a man walking to his death. Because if something happened to her, I’d resigned myself to that.
Death.
Without her, there was no me.
When I stepped through the door, everything else faded away. There she was—lying in bed with her eyes closed. He
r skin looked thin and pale—the only color was the vibrant strands of red hair against her colorless cheeks.
I swallowed, the air suddenly feeling too thick again.
Moving into the room, I couldn’t look away from her. I recorded every part of her to memory. The lift of her chest as she took a breath. The curve of her cheeks. The dip of her neck. I memorized her and took her essence into me.
I’d almost lost her.
I could still lose her.
And then she opened her lids and her mossy eyes connected with mine.
Tears choked me, trapping her name in the back of my throat as I moved over her and held her slender shoulders close to me.
Leaning back, I cupped her cheeks in my palms and let myself believe what I was seeing.
She was alive.
Her eyes open.
Her heart still beating.
I closed my eyes and listened to the monitor—each beep another beat of her heart—and I finally let the tears that had been shocked out of me hours before slide down my cheeks.
“You’re alive.” The words struggled over my tongue, cracked and broken.
“I’m alive.”
My eyes moved over her face, down her neck, over her chest, until my focus was on her stomach. Nausea swept over me.
Our baby.
Gone.
No way had our baby survived.
“The baby?” I asked, letting my palm rest on top of her stomach.
Closing my eyes, another tear slipped down my cheek.
I’d never thought about having children, but now, it was what I wanted. I wanted to be a father. A good one. I wanted to see Rosslyn grow large with the only good thing I could ever produce.
I wanted our child.
A sob broke through my lips and I leaned over her, pressing my cheek to her stomach where our child had once been. Growing. Growing. Gone in the blink of an eye.
“Shhh.” Her fingers sifted through my hair. “Just listen, Sebastian.”
So I did.
And what I heard was the most miraculous thing. The beeping of Rosslyn’s heart was hard and strong, and the other beeping, the one that didn’t match hers, was beeping just as strong.
“Is that?” I asked, not sure I was willing to believe we could be so lucky.
Little Black Box Set Page 42