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He felt the barrel graze his fingertips and instinctively scrambled
for the trigger. He tried to push the gun toward her, but it was
moving in the wrong direction, pointing down now.
“I loved you!” she sobbed, fighting him with every ounce of rage
and strength left in her, and he felt something give way,
momentary clarity returning.
“Then you never should have left me,” he whispered, his breath
heavy with alcohol. He pulled the trigger and the gun sounded
with a loud crack and then he knew it was almost over. She was
going to die because he’d told her that he’d find her and kill her if
she ever ran away again. He would kill any man who loved her.
But strangely, Erin didn’t fall, didn’t even flinch. Instead, she
stared at him with fierce green eyes, holding his gaze without
blinking.
He felt something then, burning in his stomach, fire. His left leg
gave way and he tried to stay upright, but his body was no longer
his own. He collapsed on the porch, reaching for his stomach.
“Come back with me,” he whispered. “Please.”
Blood pulsed through the wound, passing between his fingers.
Above him, Erin was going in and out of focus. Blond hair and
then brown again. He saw her on their honeymoon, wearing a
bikini, before she’d forgotten her sunglasses, and she was so
beautiful that he couldn’t understand why she’d wanted to marry
him.
Beautiful. She was always so beautiful, he thought, and then he
was tired again. His breaths became ragged and then he started to
feel cold, so cold, and he began to shake. He exhaled once more,
the sound like air being released from a tire. His chest stopped
moving. His eyes were wide open, uncomprehending.
Katie stood over him, shaking as she stared down at him. No, she
thought. I’ll never go with you. I never wanted to go back.