47. Draven

T hat woman infuriates me.

"Death would separate you from that mouth of hers. At least you can be thankful for that." Gabe draws closer to me.

My chest deflates as I release a loud sigh, "I plan to haunt her. I'll still hear that fire tongue of hers."

I don't think I've ever heard Gabe laugh, but one slips from his throat. I'm listening to her scream at me through the door, and I wonder when Troy will get a grip and grab her to get going. She can't stay here; she has to choose the chase. Troy, Jun, and then Gabe will allow for her to get away, and she would win.

Win her life back.

11:5 8

"Does it feel strange?" he asks, but I don't pull my eyes away from the clock above the door I had just closed. "Knowing you are about to die?"

A gentle hum slips from my throat. "Strange? No."

The clock moves forward.

11:59

That wouldn't be the emotion I'd describe this. I'm not scared, but, sad. I never feared death, and honestly, I had hoped for it on so many occasions.

Now, I'm sad.

While I never stopped hearing her screaming at me through the door, it wasn't until I heard that stupid woman say the one thing I wish she would have waited just another minute for.

"Draven please... I... I love you. I'm begging you!"

Damn you.

I shifted my gaze to Gabe, and he straightens his head.

"Now I'll die with regret," I drop my gaze, placing my head into my hand. "Love you too, Petit Mouton ." The whisper is quiet, and I wish she could hear me. Maybe I can somehow write it in the steam in the mirror. I do plan to haunt her. As I said, even after the weekend, she wouldn't be free of me.

12:00

I am not sure what being decapitated would feel like, but I wasn't expecting numbness .

Another second passes, and nothing happens.

"She's going to kill you for this dramatic shit, Gabe."

Something hits the ground, causing me to open my eyes. The brace around my neck lies open on the floor. I furrow my brows and direct my gaze sharply at him.

I groan, "Seriously?"

"Do you really think we'd kill you?" His lazy smile pulls just barely at the edge of his lip. "I should rephrase, do you think I would kill you?"

I swallow, bringing my hand up to my neck and rubbing at it. My heart is racing, which I hadn't realized until just now. "You sure as shit made it seem like it."

"At least you now know how she feels…" He shakes his head, "How often will I get to pretend to kill the mighty Grim?"

"Don't refer to me as that," I demand. "I'm telling her you did this. I refuse to be punished for this." I'm a bit angry, my tone a frustrated bite. "I hope she kills you for it."

Gabe tosses his head back and laughs once more. "She's a spitfire, no doubt she'll try."

A heavy groan comes from me, and I'm at the door, attempting to open it. It's locked, and I really shouldn't be surprised. The rough pull nearly shatters the hinges. My glare finds his unamused eyes. "Let me go to her."

He shrugs. "Soon, you know the rules, she's got to beat six just like you. Once she makes the decision to run, I'll let you chase your prey."

I press my forehead against the cold metal door. I can't hear anything anymore, and as I shift my gaze up, it reads 12:03. Please Troy, please…

I've got the handle gripped in my grasp .

"This is repayment for not killing me, Draven." I could hear his footsteps approaching me, and I shift my head ever so slightly, just enough to peer from the corner of my eye at his stoic expression. "A life, for a life."

Gabe had owned this shit show before Jarvus. He was the one that had taken the gun to my heart and tried to kill me. If it hadn't been for my hand slowing the bullet, I wouldn't be here. In that moment, and in the ones following my own near-death, I had every means to kill him, but I spared him.

I don't know why, but now I'm thankful I did.

"I won't save you from her," I mumble through my irritation. "So fucking dramatic, do you know she's going to be a damn mess over—"

The door unlatches, and I shoot my gaze to it.

"Oh shit—" Gabe grits. "She chose wrong."

Damn it, Little Sheep.

I kick through the door, startling several people who had been standing beyond it. Max isn't but twenty feet ahead of me, and I can see the gun pointed down at her head. However, it is slowly slipping away.

I keep running, and as I brush past Troy, we both stand in shock at the sight of Max. Blood drips from her open hand, and Jarvus's lifeless body lay at her feet with a dagger protruding from the bottom of his jaw.

Her eyes are closed, dried tears down her reddened cheeks. I am standing before her, anger filling my chest and sending me into a rage.

I wrap my hand around her throat and pull her closer to me. "Max, are you fucking kidding me?!" Her eyes slowly peel open; the corners of her lips curling slightly .

"I won…" She doesn't move her hands, her body loose, but staying steady enough to stand. I'm about to start a slew of unpleasant words, but she continues, "Death. He brought me to you."

The grip around her neck tightens, but not to cut her oxygen off. She's barely breathing as it is, and I think she's in shock.

"I don't pray… but I did in that moment, that the bullet was in the chamber. So that it would bring me to you."

My entire body vibrates; pain and anger ripping through me like a stampede. Stupid woman… I shift my hand behind her neck and bare my teeth as my forehead finds hers.

"Idiot…" The word delivered through the ache I was feeling.

"There wasn't anyone I'd want to celebrate freedom with than the one that helped give it to me."

"Baby—" I bring my hand to her cheek, and it's then I see that I'm shaking. My entire body is vibrating with fear because she should have died just now.

I don't know who was looking over her in that moment, but whomever it was, I'd be thanking them forever.

Because what she doesn't understand is the gun was meant to be fully loaded. Jarvus must not have reloaded it from the single bullet used to draw the crowds attention from the beginning of the weekend.

Neither choice is meant to have a survivor on the other end. Both are meant to kill. I would have let her win the hunt if I had been here. But the gun, it was one-hundred percent supposed to end her life.

She was ready to die to be with me …

"You stupid, Little Sheep." If I had lived, only to come out and see her gone—the thought bringing my body's temperature to rise. The harsh throbbing in my eyes making me squeeze them close. "So fucking stupid!"

My lips crash against hers and she's wrapping her arms around my neck. "Why would you do that…" I say between pulling her back, leaning down, and lifting her up under her thighs.

She smiles and pulls away. "It didn't hurt…"

"Yes, Max , because you are alive," I groan against her lips, pulling us together again, my fingers gripping tightly at her hair.

"Huh…" Through the brushes of kisses I'm leaving across her lips and cheek, she uses her hands that are tight against my neck to push herself back. "What—"

"You are the most infuriating woman I have ever met!" I shake my head, refusing to let her pull away any further. "So fucking loud, and obnoxious. Saying the stupid jokes that shouldn't make me laugh but do."

One of her hands slowly moves from my neck to my cheek and draws her thumb across it.

"Draven I—"

"I told you to run. I told you to let Troy protect you. Will you ever listen to me?! Fucking Hell itself, woman."

She's in shock, and I can't tell if it's from the prospect that we are both alive, or she's watching me unabashedly shed tears in front of her. "You call me a lurch just after you tell me you love me? Then promptly tell me you hate me?!"

Her eyes round.

" Petit Mouton … mon amour… "

Tears are building at the corner of her eyes, and I think she's realizing that she is alive—and so am I.

"I love you too—until whatever end awaits us. Never change, even for me. Because you, and all your tendencies, are what I fell in love with."