Page 126 of In My Heart
But it wasn’t Arran who fell. Callan leapt in from absolutely nowhere, slamming into his brother hard, and they both landed with a deafening crash.
A loud cry of pain I knew had come from Cal echoed around us and I swore my heart stopped.
“CAL!” I cried.
Arran appeared behind the debris they had landed amongst and turned instantly, horror ripping across his face. He lifted Cal’s top half up into his arms and I could see as blood spread rapidly through Cal’s shirt.
“Arran?”
Arran glanced to me for just a moment, then he set Cal back down and got to his feet. Calm. He was too calm. It terrified me. Then something feral snapped loose in him.
He turned and threw himself at the shooter with terrifying violence, driving him into a pew hard enough to splinter the wood, before pulling out a long knife, that caught the light as Arran plunged it viciously into the man’s chest. He ripped it out and stabbed him several more times, his teeth bared and his body rippling with unrestrained rage the entire time.
I probably should have been scared but I wasn’t. The bastard deserved everything he got and so much more. He shot Cal and he would have killed Arran if Cal hadn’t dived in.
“Cal?” I called desperately as I looked to where I could just see the top of his head over the mess surrounding him. He wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t he moving? I needed to go to him, but I didn’t want to leave Dante.
“Cal! Look at me, God damn it!” I screamed.
Arran heard me, already returning to where he had left his brother - his hands, face, and clothes splattered with even more blood now. He dropped to the floor again. The gunfire around us quietened and I could hear Arran.
“Cal? Cal, look at me!” He rasped as he tapped at Cal’s face gently.
Finally Cal opened his eyes and a sob of relief tore from me. I watched as Arran pulled him up so he held Cal against him, his back to Arran’s chest. I could see the bullet had torn through his shoulder, but the bleeding seemed slow at least.
“What the feck were ye thinkin’ lad?” Arran gasped, half relief and half anger.
“You’re welcome,” Cal groaned, grimacing, obviously in pain. Even then though, he still tried to smile.
“Cara…” I turned and found Dante, awake and struggling weakly against the ropes binding him. “Cal…is he…” he could barely breathe, let alone talk.
“Stop!” I cried as I ran toward him, dropping to the ground beside him. “Cal’s okay. He got shot in the shoulder. Stop moving!”
Up that close, the injuries were even worse, which shouldn’t have been possible. Bruises wrapped around his throat. One rib visibly shifted wrong as he continued to struggle. Rope burns cut deep into his wrists. Blood crusted near his temple from a partially healed, long and deep cut.
“God, Dante!” I gasped, fighting not to cry. He had to be in agony, but still, his gaze focused entirely on me, that look of worry in his eyes that I knew too well.
“You okay?” he asked roughly.
A broken laugh escaped me. Tears slipped free and I swiped them away quickly.
“You’re asking me that?” I sniffled.
I reached for the ropes with trembling fingers, knowing he needed to be free if he was going to calm down at all.
“Missed you,” he whispered as he finally stilled his fight and let me try to untie him.
“I missed you too, big guy,” I sniffled looking to him with the hint of a smile.
“Everyone stop!” The loud, deep order came from Daniel, and I turned instantly to look for him, then froze. Daniel had a gun pressed to Dio’s head. Dio was stood before him, blood staining his white shirt, his arms held out at his sides while Daniel pressed the butt of a chrome gun against his head hard enough to see it pressing into the flesh there.
The entire room stopped moving. My eyes met Dio’s as he stood perfectly still beside one of the shattered windows, blood running from a cut above his eyebrow, jaw tight with fury.
Daniel looked calm as ever. Controlled. His suit was a little dust covered, but not a hair was out of place on the man. It was like he remained untouched by the chaos, and I really started to wonder if he was human at all.
“Enough wreckage,” he announced simply.
I stood slowly, lifting my gun toward him. I was so done with listening to this monster. His eyes shifted to me immediately. He seemed more interested and amused, than concerned or angry.
