Crash and Burn (1)

did you give him hell, princess?

♚ ♛

I SHOT HIM too many times.

Breathe.

Gnawing on my bottom lip, I stood motionless. There was too much blood. He might not survive.

Breathe.

Those thoughts seemed to suffocate me as the man laid limp. Rain fell in sheets, shadows danced across the roof, blood swirled into the water.

He stayed still.

"He's alive," I murmured, tucking the guns into my sweatshirt pockets. "He's still alive."

But what if he wasn't?

Breathe.

There would always be another.

Another beat of silence steadied my racing heart. When I was sure that he was unconscious, I turned my back on him and hurried to the edge of the roof.

What if I killed him?

Breathe.

It wouldn't be the first.

Warily, I scoped out the adjoining building that Soren must've escaped to. It was only a few feet to drop to the lower roof, and beyond several air ducts, the iron bars of a rusted ladder hung over the edge.

Always have an escape plan.

Darkness clouded my vision as I swung myself over the edge, gripping the top with both hands and easing myself down.

What if he bled to death?

Breathe.

I'd kill another.

My feet hit the ground; the familiar jolt of pain in the balls of my feet nearly sent me stumbling forward. I blinked twice, staggering to the ladder as if my life depended on it.

If he wanted blood, I'd give it to him. Battles like this ended in bloodshed.

Breathe.

He probably wasn't alone. They'd find him, bring him back, keep him alive long enough to get answers.

Br—

My breath caught in my throat. He probably wasn't alone.

Had I just sent Soren into their waiting hands? After taking his gun?

No, Soren was okay. Soren had to be okay.

Every nerve in my body spurred me down the ladder too quick, choking for air and suppressing the fear of Soren being hauled away because of me.

A block and a half felt like oceans away, even as I sprinted, weaving in and out of the downtown crowds to the alley, but when I swerved, relief flooded through me.

Leaning against the wall with his hood lifted up over his curls was Soren Calloway.

Breathe.

"Soren."

One corner of his lips tilted as he met my gaze. "Did you give him hell, princess?"

I couldn't even be angry about the nickname. I could only stare at him as I caught my breath. I still had a chance. I had a chance at freedom and Soren was it.

Ignoring his question, I collapsed against the brick wall beside him. All the air left my body.

Breathe.

In. Out.

"You didn't run into any trouble?"

Soren reached into his pocket and waved a pack of Newports nonchalantly, gracing me with a mischievous smirk. "Not unless you consider getting chased out of a deli trouble. I guess that's nothing compared to our type of trouble."