I should have stopped her. But what the fuck did I do? What I always did where she was concerned. I followed her lead and now look where that got me. My sister was dead. Bullseye was surely going to put a bullet in my head, and Reaper was going to kick my ass if I didn’t get my head out of my ass.
What none of them knew, not that they even cared to fucking ask, was that I hadn’t slept in days. Well, not without liquid encouragement, because without it, all I kept seeing was that fucking bullet leave his fucking gun and enter her head. It kept playing over and over in my head like some damn slow-motion movie that I couldn’t turn off. Even now, it was there, playing in my head.
I entered the house. I see her on the floor. Her body was full of bullet holes, but she wasn’t giving up. Not my sister. My sister was a badass. She aimed her gun just as the fucker took his shot. I blinked, and all three of us fired at once.
She hit her mark.
The fucker hit her.
My shot goes wide…and I miss.
He stumbled back as she lay on the ground, blood pooling all around her. He sees me, and I just stare at him, and I can’t believe who I am staring at. When I move, he runs out of the house into the raging storm, and I am left alone in the house with Kitty on the ground and an unconscious Sandman.
My whole life, I was told she was mine to protect. To make sure nothing happened to her, and for the longest time, I had succeeded. She was safe, loved, and cared for. Then one night. One fucked up, disastrous night, everything changed forever.
I fell to my knees, reaching for her lifeless body, holding her to me as tears ran like a raging river down my face. I didn’t know what to do. For the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do. That’s when I felt it. Her heartbeat. She was still breathing.
Snapping out of it, I reached into my cut and dialed 911.
I didn’t give a flying fuck what anyone said.
She was my sister, and she was hurt. That’s what normal people did. They called 911.
“You’re gonna be okay, sis. I promise. I’ll make sure you are just fine. Just hang on. Help is coming,” I said as I heard the line connect.
“911. What is your emergency?”
“My sister’s been shot.”
“Where are you located, sir?”
“In some fucking shack in the middle of fucking nowhere. How the hell do I know. Help me!”
“Sir, I need you to calm down. I am getting emergency services to your location as fast as we can. Can you tell me where your sister was shot?”
Looking at her, I started counting holes. Fuck me, there were so many, so I gave the operator the important ones.
“Everywhere. She’s got two holes in her right leg and one in her left thigh. There is a hole on the side of her stomach and one in the left shoulder, but the one I’m worried about is the one in her head.”
“Her head?”
“Yes. The mother fucker shot her in the head!”
“Sir, does your sister have a pulse?”
“Yes, she’s got a God damned pulse. Why the fuck do you think I’m talking with you! She’s still breathing, and I can feel her fucking heartbeat. She needs help!”
“Emergency services are on the way, sir. Is there anyone else hurt?”
“Yeah, her twin. He was beaten up pretty bad, and he’s still tied to the fucking chair, and he isn’t moving.”
“Sir, I need you to check him for a pulse.”
“I’m not leaving my sister. That fucker can die for all I care about. She’s hurt because of him.”
“Sir, can you tell me who shot your sister?”
“Yes. A dead man walking.” I growled, and he was, too, because when I got my hands on him, I would give him exactly what he gave to my sister.