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The words die on a scream as my father’s body jerks, collapsing to the side as one of the intruders fires around the end of the pew in a burst of noise.

“Dad!” I scream, blood rushing to my ears.

My mind spins. The world goes red.

My father goes still.

No. My heart gives a single, solid thud in my chest. No.

“Please…”

The sounds around me continue to rage, the danger still looming over me like a guillotine, but I can’t focus on any of that. All I can focus on is my only remaining parent, my lifeline, my father bleeding out on the floor. My fingers scrabble at his neck, slick with blood as I try to find a pulse. I can’t find one, but maybe that’s just because my fingers are too slippery, my own heart hammering so hard it seems to drown out everything else.

“Dad, please…”

My white dress tangles around our limbs and knots at my ankles as I try to drag his body with me to an exit, to get him to safety. He’s too heavy for me to move fast enough, and I know it’s too late— his body is limp and lifeless, his head falling to the side, eyes open wide in horror. The splatter of his blood stains my dress, turning the white fabric crimson.

“Please…” I cry, silently, ducking behind a pew.

My body is so frozen in fear as I lift my shaking hands to my vision, watching the blood drip down my hands and wrists to my elbows. There’s a tingling cold in my fingertips as they start to go numb, a sensation that goes from my hands to my arms to my chest, washing over my entire body.

Pop!

A scream catches in my throat as another bullet embeds itself in the pew inches away from my face, wood splintering. I know I should leave my father’s body behind, that there’s nothing left to save, but my gaze is pulled back to where his tall form is sprawled on the floor.

Unconsciously, my hand floats to my head where my veil should be when I see that he still holds it tightly in his hand. It must have torn from my head as we dropped to the church floor; the fresh white roses that made up the cro

wn of the veil are smeared with blood, the petals crushed and broken.

I have to fight… I need to get away.

Fresh tears stream down my face as I turn away, dragging my body across the floor.

Where are you, Brian? I try to keep my focus in front of me, wondering where my knight in shining armor is. Is he even still alive? Or did they kill him too?

“Not so fast, sweetheart,” a voice says behind me.

Pop!

My body absorbs the impact of the bullet, pain following seconds later. Fire rips through the side of my body as I grasp my hip, trying to stop the blood, but it spills through my fingers, hot and thick. A pair of boots come down on my dress as I try to pull away, stopping me in my tracks. I’ve taken self-defense classes. I’m no stranger to violence. I should be able to fight him.

But with every breath I take, pain pulses and radiates throughout my entire body.

“No…” I gasp, turning around and looking at a face I don’t recognize. “Please…”

He smirks, lifting his gun and pointing it at my head.

My ears ring as my assailant jerks and stumbles forward, three shots penetrating his stomach in quick succession, blood splattering my face and chest. His smirk turns to a grimace and his eyes widen in pain as he looks down at his wounds, catching the blood with his hands.

But it’s too late for him.

His body crumples to the floor right in front of me. As he collapses, his weapon skims across the floor, just within my reach.

Get the gun.

I lurch forward, desperation and adrenaline overriding the pain in my side as I grasp for the handgun. The barrel of the gun barely brushes my fingers before a heavy boot comes down on my wrist, making my arm scream in agony. The new man kicks the weapon out of my reach, sending it flying across the room.

Hope fades with it.


Tags: Eva Ashwood The Dark Elite Romance