It happened so quickly, Damion had no time to brace or to react.
Lisa raised her hand, and a glint of sun bouncing off the gun blinded him momentarily.
Then he moved without a single thought in his head. Gut reaction. Instinct.
Everyone around them gasped. Someone screamed. A loud bang echoed out over the white sands as happy people played in the surf and sun.
He was slightly surprised to hear several other shots ring out, after he and Jules hit the ground.
More screams. The sound of people running. Someone stepped on his leg. Kicked the chair. Tables were turned over as people ran.
He must have bumped his head at one point since his ears were ringing so loud that he couldn’t hear anything.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched a large man in a tank top tackle Lisa from behind. When their bodies hit the ground, Damion realized it was too late. The last bullet had been for herself. Her blue eyes stared back less than five feet away from him, unseeing, as blood oozed out of the missing back of her head.
“Damion?” Jules gasped. “You’re bleeding.”
He was shifted off Jules’s body and pushed to lay with his shoulders against the wood planks of the deck. He started up at the sky-blue awning over them as his shirt was ripped away and clean rags were held against his chest. There were more screams to call for help.
It was all so… silly. Everyone was so panicked. They didn’t have to be. This was peaceful. There was no pain. Just numbness.
Then Jules’s face lowered to his. Her tear-filled eyes locked with his own.
Damn. He had something else to do. He couldn’t go yet. The moment that realization hit him, so did the pain.
Every nerve in his body suddenly came alive. Shooting pain radiated from his armpit and chest area. His knee was throbbing as well as the back of his head.
“Jules, are you okay?” he asked through a cough.
“Don’t move,” she said, and suddenly everything was shifting. Gone was the blue awning, replaced by bright lights and a distant humming that sounded oddly familiar.
His only focus was to make sure Jules was okay. Her face came and went several times. He saw her mouth move, watched her eyes pool with tears.
He tried to reach out to her. To tell her what he needed to. To make her his forever. To link their lives together forever. But he kept slipping up. His mind kept getting fuzzy and then everything went dark.
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
Jules paced in the lobby of the hospital. The very hospital they had just left over an hour ago. She was still covered in Damion’s blood. The image of Lisa shooting at them and then turning the gun on herself and watching that pretty face, the one Jules had instantly been jealous of, explode was locked in her mind.
What the hell had happened? How had she known where they were? Had the woman seriously been stalking them on social media? Why? Why would she shoot at Jules and Damion?
It was obvious she was aiming for Jules. Damion hadn’t been the target.
Jules closed her eyes and swayed slightly, remembering seeing the dark red blood ooze from his chest. “God,” she cried out.
“Jules?” Someone’s arms wrapped around her. Jules looked up into a face and it took her brain a moment to click into gear. It was Owen.
“What’s happened?” Owen asked, moving her to a chair.
“Lisa… shot Damion,” she cried out.
“Jesus,” Owen gasped. “Is he…”
“Surgery.” She buried her face into Owen’s chest, gripping his shirt with her blood-soaked hands. “She shot him in the chest and then killed herself.”
“Jesus Christ,” Owen said softly. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice. “I… have to call…” Who? She wasn’t thinking clearly, couldn’t think about anything beyond Damion.