14. Tatum

CHAPTER 14

TATUM

I t feels like someone's stabbed me. My breath leaves my body, and my hands shake at my sides. Abi was just here with me, now he's gone. His eyes are closed, his breathing shallow. The room around us is silent, save for a pair of heavily stomping feet. I can't focus on them. Just the red stain spreading across Abi's beautiful new shirt. The one he bought just for me. A shirt that once said #Tatabi is now so red with blood, I can't even see the hashtag.

Something cool presses against the back of my head, but I don't budge. I just stare down at the man I love, lying in a lifeless heap.

"Call them, Tatum," Benito says, but I can barely breathe, much less move.

Abi's only a few inches away from me, but it already feels like a mile. Without our tether there to bond us, it feels like I'm drifting away from the shore of rationality and into tumultuous waters.

"I want them back," he says.

I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. Once it's unlocked, I stare at the picture Abi set as my wallpaper without my consent. He took it last night at our bachelor party, before we got inside the cake. Before I finally accepted what this thing is we're working toward. In the picture, there's apprehension and fear in my eyes, but right now, all I feel is empty.

"Abi," I whisper, looking down at his lifeless form. "Wake up."

The gun cocks, making me jolt, but Benito's hand is holding my shoulder, locking me in place. It would only take a ten-second phone call to end this. Then, Bennet and Benji would be at his mercy, and I could save Abi.

"Please wake up," I whisper to my beautiful Russian bastard. He looks peaceful this way. But then, he always does. He's my gentle giant. "Please?"

"Make the call. I'm not going to ask you again."

"Okay," I whisper, my throat feeling raw and cracked when the words escape it. "Just let me tell him goodbye." I lean in closer until our noses touch. In part, I want my face here so I can feel if he's still breathing. I need to know there's still a little life in him, because there's no life without him. This man barged into my world like a bat out of Hell, changing every aspect of my existence. I'm empty without him. Physically empty. More than anything, I want him in me, reminding me that I'm safe. Wordlessly telling me I'm protected. There's no protection from this, though. Not with a gun pressing against the back of my head.

"I've loved you. All this time. Every single second." Leaning down, I press a kiss between his eyes. "Please don't leave me." My hand rests on his thigh, feathering my fingers through his hair with the other. There's something in his pocket, just beneath the denim. It feels familiar.

Nito groans. "God, were you always this fucking tragic?"

In this moment, he holds the power. My life is his to do with as he pleases. He could pull the trigger and snuff out my spark, if that's what he desires. Going on experience, I'm pretty sure there's nothing he desires more. But there's something he's forgotten. An old proverb. Tried and true.

Never come between a boy and his daddy .

I reach into Abi's pocket, praying to Rinna for a miracle. And, sweet, merciful Goddess, she's given me just that. I waste no time, uncapping the needle with my thumb and sending up a final prayer. If I don't survive this, it's okay. Just let us exist together as stars. Together, we'll be constellations, riding the sky right until the end.

I jerk my hand out of his pocket, not giving Nito a chance to react. Whirling, I drive the syringe into his hip and shove the plunger down, injecting him with Abi's serum. He gasps, sharp and quick, before taking a stumbling step back. This is my chance, and I might not get another, so I take it. Placing all my weight on the ball of my foot, I use it to launch myself toward him, screaming like hell as I rush forward. He's still too preoccupied with pulling the needle out to notice he's dropped the gun. It isn't lost on me, though.

I scramble across the floor, and when I look over at him, our eyes lock. His eyes have gone feral. The pupils so dark, I can't see where his brown irises end. Within seconds, he's on his knees, rushing for the gun, and I think we both know whoever falls short won't be leaving this church with their life.

Don't care.

If living means living in a world without Abi Kincaid, he can fucking win.

"Don't you dare," he growls, rushing even closer. We're neck and neck—or perhaps knee and knee—each trying to beat the other. I'm fast, but I'm not fast enough. He's got it in his hands, and I know I've lost. I make a choice; a conscious decision that will probably cost me my life.

Screaming, I charge him, my head tilted down. Dull, thudding pressure presses across my forehead when I crash into his chest, and I hear him gasp like he's just had the wind knocked out of him. Benito stumbles back, but I'm not done yet. I can't be done yet. Being done means facing the truth, and Abi's death is a truth I have no desire to face.

We come to a stop when I pin him against the wall. There's a church pew beside me, and in the back, there's a small Bible tucked in a wooden pocket. Christians have used the book as a weapon for centuries. It's my turn.

Benito's still gasping for air as I lift the Bible over my head and bring it crashing against his skull. The sound he makes is unbearable, but it doesn't stop me. I smash the Bible against his head as many times as it takes, until he's a weeping, sobbing shadow of his former self.

The gun is right in front of him, and with him too engulfed in pain to notice it, I make my move, grabbing it and taking a few steps back. I aim the gun at his head and sneer. I've never seen anyone look so defeated. He isn't furious. There isn't a trace of anger on his face. Seeing him like this, candy-coated in terror, is almost all the pain I need from him. Almost.

"Six months," I growl, cocking the hammer. "You ruined my life in six months. I watched you take everything I had for yourself." The corner of my lip curls up, and I rear back my leg and kick him in the balls. He rolls onto his side, gripping his stomach as he writhes on the dirty floor. "I invited you into my life. Into my fucking home, Benito. Then you destroyed me." I kick his ankle as hard as I can, making him cry out. "You look at me when I'm killing you, you son of a bitch. Be a man and look me in the eyes."

He jerks his head in my direction, that same pained expression still covering his face. "Just do it."

I could kill him. It would be easy. Just the slightest tug on the trigger, and the world would be rid of Benito Blankenship. No other men would fall for his deceptive good looks. No other twinks would have to know the pain of an unrequested cuckolding. They wouldn't see this monster steal away the life they'd planned for. The life they wanted. But my mind goes back to Abi. Of what he might say if he saw me like this. He would be devastated to find I've allowed the darkness to claim me. It would crush him. He's still my tether. He's what keeps me holding on to the last of my waning sanity .

"You took something from me. Something I cherished." I take a deep breath and hold it in, hoping it might center me. "So, now, I'm going to take something from you." I aim the gun at his knee and give him a cheerful smile through my tears. "Hope you cry." When I pull the trigger, I'm not sure which is louder—the sound of gunfire in an enclosed space, or the ungodly scream that escapes him.

"What the fucking fuck, Tatum?" he sobs.

The sight of him in pain eases a bit of the hurt I'm feeling, so I aim the gun at his other knee and fire a round into it. "Hope you die." Finally, I lift the gun until it's aimed at his upper thigh. I know there's an artery somewhere in there. Whether I strike it or not is up to the Goddess. "Hope you take a bullet through the thigh." I pull the trigger one last time before whirling it around, lifting it over my head, and driving the heavy part down against his skull. He falls flat on his back and goes motionless. "I've just pistol-whipped a man," I announce to the almost-empty room. I don't know if I've ever felt so proud of myself before. The surprising thing is, I want to share that pride. To crawl into Abi's lap, wrap my arms around him, and tell him how fucking badass I just was.

Abi.

I've got to get to him. Between the gunshot wounds, the blunt force trauma, and Abi's serum, I know Benito's not waking up any time soon, so I rush back to the one who needs me.

His body is motionless on the floor. His chest doesn't rise, nor does it fall. I hover over him, too scared to speak. Too scared to move.

"Daddy," I whisper, leaning closer, touching my forehead to his. "Don't leave me." With shaking hands, I leave him long enough to grab my phone and place a quick call to Brody. When it's done, I stare down at Daddy, praying to Rinna for a miracle.