“Anton,” he said.
Anton wheeled around and looked back at Viktor.
“Viktor, there’s nothing you can say that will change my mind now. I need this.”
“Anton, I will pay you anything, I will give you whatever you want, but leave Brandy and my child out of our feud.”
Anton lowered the gun for a moment, but I caught a gleam of sudden rage in his eye as I saw him quickly turn toward me.
I was ready for it, though. As he began to turn, I whipped off the blanket I was wearing and threw it at him as quickly as possible.
A gunshot rang out and deafened the room. I whipped the gun in my hand up and pointed it at Anton. My hand shook so much I didn’t think I’d hit anything.
My thoughts flooded into my head all at once. This wasn’t just for me; this was for the future and for my child. I found a sense of calm in the depth of my being that I never felt, and suddenly everything seemed so easy.
I aimed the gun and pulled the trigger. A shot echoed around the room again, then another, and another. I kept pulling the trigger, over and over, until Anton fell to the floor. I kept the gun trained on him and kept pulling the trigger for everything that had gone wrong over the course of my entire life. I kept pulling the trigger for every time I felt weak and for every time my nerves got the better of me. I pulled the trigger. I killed him, and a piece of me died there with him.
I dropped the gun while tears flowed from my eyes; while pain wracked every last inch of my body. I didn’t want to open my eyes again and see the sight that would be forever burned into my memory.
Viktor was on me, quickly. He covered me with kisses and checked every inch of me to make sure I was alright. Thankfully I was unharmed, not a single scratch showed itself.
“You’re alright!” he shouted at me, I could hear him crying out of joy or sadness I couldn’t tell.
“I killed him,” I said.
“Yes, yes you did.”
“I killed him,” I repeated.
Viktor nodded and hugged me closer. I heard the doors to the room open and a couple of security men stormed in with guns at the ready.
“We’re alright,” Viktor proclaimed.
The men lowered their weapons. I still stared at the blanket, now covered in blood.
“I killed him,” I repeated again, sobbing into my hands.
Viktor picked me up and carried me from the room. One of his guards handed him another blanket that he took and threw over me.
He took me down the hall to another room, quite a bit smaller, but still quite cozy. He sat me in a chair just inside the entrance and got down on his knees in front of me.
I finally realized how badly he was bleeding, running my hand over his wound on his shoulder.
“Viktor, you’re hurt. You need to see a medic.”
He tensed in pain and pulled my hand away from his shoulder.
“I’ll see one soon. There’s an ambulance on the way.”
“Viktor, I killed Anton.”
“I know,” he replied.
Viktor took my head between his hands, grasping it hard and staring directly into my eyes. I could feel his intensity again.
“You saved our child,” he said.
All thought left me, I hadn’t considered that.
“With your actions, you have given our child the chance to live, to grow, to love. You made that happen, and you will make that happen.”
I could feel my tears beginning to dry up. Thinking about saving a life, rather than taking one was helping. I stared back into Viktor’s eyes and smiled. Not all my anger and frustration was gone, but I could feel them dulling.
The medics found us inside the building briefly afterward. And, it took a bit of coercing to pry Viktor from me for a while so they would be able to have a look at his shoulder wound. With their examination they discovered that it was a deep wound but didn’t hit anything major, expecting him to make a full recovery.
I looked up at the wall in the room we were in and noticed something familiar.
“Viktor, is that the painting you bought from me when we first met?”
Viktor sheepishly nodded.
“It is. I hid it in here during the party to keep it from drunken guests. I prefer it to be hung in my bedroom.”
It was a pale blue piece, with concentric circles flowing in and around each other in so many colors; it was impossible to keep track of them all.
“I remember when I sold it to you I thought it was hideous, but now I might be turning around on it.”
Viktor laughed.
“It’s a funny thing, that, how our opinions can change so quickly.”
We bought plenty of art over the years, but that first picture never left our collection. And, we never met anyone else like Anton.
THE END
A Dangerous Game – A BWWM Football Romance
“He’s lookin’ a bit rough today, Angie,” I heard Jim saying behind me.