And I can’t leave Dominic.
Not while his heart still beats.
And not after it stops.
“Do you have a weapon?”
I look down at the gun next to me. “There’s a rifle.”
“Use it,” King commands.
King taught me how to shoot two summers ago. And I was good, but I haven’t practiced.
“It’s been too long,” I choke.
“You know what you’re doing, Val. You know how to do this.”
“I don’t know if I can!”
“You have to!” This time he shouts.
And I know he’s right. This is my only chance. Our only chance.
I reach for the gun with my free hand. “If-if I don’t make it…”
“Val.”
“If I don’t make it.” Tears stream down my cheeks. “I just need someone to know—”
But I can’t say it.
I can’t say the words out loud.
Because if I don’t make it, neither will they.
“Val,” King says, focusing me. “Right now, you aim at everything that moves.”
“Okay.” My voice is cracking. “Okay. I’m putting the phone down now. Thank you, King.”
“Thank me later. Now go kill the bastards who dare to fucking shoot at you. You are The Alliance, Val. Show them why.”
I set the phone on the ground next to Dominic’s thigh and move toward the front end of the SUV.
My eyes close for one breath.
Lean in.
I fill my lungs.
My hands lift the rifle, and I rest the stock against my shoulder.
I pull the bolt back just enough to see that there’s a round already in the chamber.
Them or us.
It’s them or it’s us.
I twist around the front of the vehicle.
A man crests the top of the street, his figure silhouetted with the fluffy snow fall.
I squeeze the trigger.
His face disappears.
Them or fucking us.
Movement to my right draws my barrel.
I exhale and squeeze again. Twice.
Blood sprays from his chest.
One more head.
One more bullet.
Another man down.
I roll back behind the vehicle and stay low as I rush back around, past Dominic and past the dead bad guy, until I’m at the back doors.
A pair of men appear above me, but their attention is on the front of the SUV.
Where I was.
I squeeze the trigger.
The first man falls. Half his neck gone.
The second man drops, but not before I get off one more shot.
I run back around, not daring to stop and check on Dominic.
He’s alive.
He has to be alive.
I peek my head around the front of the vehicle and see the pair of men too late.
There’s a barrage of gunfire, and I pull back, but not before a round hits the barrel of my gun, jerking it to the side and out of my grip.
It falls to the ground, past the front bumper. Out of my reach.
That last shred of hope I’m clinging to frays.
I can’t reach the rifle.
Scrambling, I crawl back to Dominic.
It’s been one minute. Maybe two. Not nine.
King’s men won’t get here in time.
“Just hang on,” I whisper to my handsome husband as I shove my hands into his pockets. “Just hang on, okay?”
Except the only clips I can find are for the rifle, and his weapon is out of ammo.
I reach around to Dom’s back and find the handgun tucked into his holster.
It won’t win against the men coming toward us with assault rifles.
But it might buy us a few more seconds.
A few more seconds together.
I reach up and put just the barrel of the gun over the top of the vehicle and squeeze the trigger.
I space them out, angling the gun a little between each shot. Just enough to keep their heads down, even as they return fire.
But then my gun clicks empty.
And all the gunfire stops.
Because I’m out.
And they know it.
I sink down onto my knees.
I failed us.
The falling snow suddenly thickens, and the blanket of silence is overwhelming.
I shuffle to Dominic’s side.
I want to sit in his lap, want to hug him and turn my back on everything. But I can’t do that to him.
I’m going to face this.
He’s dying because he was protecting me.
It’s my turn now.
Picking up the last item from his pocket, I thread my fingers through the heavy metal.
Squeezing my right hand into a fist, I kneel next to my husband and press my left palm against the hole in his chest. And I wait.
Three things I see.
The lowering sun glittering through the snowfall.