Well, hell. I would be furious at my family if I was him as well. He let go of my hands, which had me falling back and raising shaking hands to hold my temples. If my head hadn’t been so fuzzy, I might have been able to use my legs to clamber away, but I was still having trouble fighting back the blackness that was trying to suck me under, and then he set the gun to the side and wrapped both his hands around my throat and started to squeeze. There was no way I was going to be able to fight. I tried clawing at his hands but he was intent, lost in his fury and rage. I wasn’t a person to him; I was just a means to an end.
“I left NorthCrest to come back home and try and help out my mom. She took the blood money your dad gave her, as well as my dad’s life insurance, and used it on pills instead of thinking about the future. Instead of thinking about me. NorthCrest is an Ivy League school. But with my dad gone and my mom strung out on opiates, there was no way I could afford to stay there. I came home, saw what your family had done to mine, and knew I had to take action. I transferred to the university under my mom’s last name and made sure I ended up in all your classes.”
While he talked he squeezed and squeezed and the darkness started to win. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel anything below my neck, and my hands started to fall limply to either side of me.
“I saw through the cracks. I knew your dad was a gambling addict and owed all the wrong kinds of people a lot of money. I knew your mom was as bad as my own—drunk, sloppy, and one step away from the edge. I knew your sister gets picked on at school because the almighty Carters aren’t really from the Hill and the other kids at her high school can tell. Everyone was failing, miserable, and bound to end up just like my own family; all of them, except for you.” As he said it he gave me a little shake like I was a rag doll and I squeaked weakly in response.
“You were supposed to fall in love with me. I was going to sweep you off your feet and then destroy you, ruin you, and leave your life in ashes, but you never let me in the front door. Then you moved home and slapped a big enough Band-Aid on things so the rest of the world could forget just how awful the Carters were. You held everything together when I wanted to watch it crumble, and for that you have to die. You have to suffer, and when I’m done with you I’m going after your sister.”
He shook me again, and I knew if I didn’t get loose he was going to choke me to death and go after Karsen. I couldn’t let that happen. I was trying to stay awake, trying to muster any amount of energy to fight back, when Drew suddenly let out a loud bellow and let me go. He scrambled to his feet above me, which gave me the space and opportunity to lurch to my hands and knees and crawl away from him.
Karsen was standing behind him with her hands over her mouth and her eyes leaking tears while she shook like a leaf. The butcher knife I had forgotten on the kitchen counter was embedded in Drew’s shoulder as he swore and danced around. Karsen grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet as I yelled at her to run. The gun Drew had brought with him was too close to him for me to try and grab as I hobbled to my feet and let my sister drag me down the stairs. My vision was flashing in and out, and it sounded like a river was rushing between my ears, but I knew I had to at least get her out of the condo before I passed out.
She shrieked when she saw Booker lying facedown and bloody on the entryway floor. She stopped, which had me slamming into her, and made both of us stumble.
“He’s hurt.”
“I know, but you have to go!”
She wouldn’t budge even as I shoved her from the back. I heard a roar that sounded like it came from a wounded animal and knew our window of opportunity was about to slam shut.
“Karsen, move! You have to get out of here!” I grabbed her arm and tried to drag her toward the broken door that was hanging drunkenly on the hinges.
Thundering footsteps were pounding down the stairs and there was no time left to think about anything. I wasn’t going to let Drew hurt either one of us. I felt awful for the tragedy that tied us together, but I wasn’t about to pay for the sins of my parents, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to allow Karsen to suffer for their mistakes any more than she already had.
The gun that Booker had pulled out when Drew started shooting through the door had landed by the back of the couch. I might not know how to use it, but I figured the sight of it might buy us enough time to get out of the condo and call for help.
Karsen pulled free of my frantic attempts to move her out of danger and was now on her knees next to Booker, her hands on his back and covered in blood, while she whispered his name.