Broken Dreams(127)

I was worried what would happen when we were bandaging him up. We didn’t have anything to keep him straight. Nick was at his head, his arms under Henry’s back, trying to keep him straight while Sophie and Claire wrapped at a feverish pace. Because of the bite on Nick’s arm, he grimaced every time he rolled Henry.

“What if his ribs poke his heart or something?” I was melting down. All rational thought was gone. All I could envision was all of his ribs broken loose, swimming in his body, lacerating every organ.

Claire looked at me. “That’s the risk we have to take. We have no other options right now. We’ll try to be as quick and as careful as possible. We need to make sure the bandage is taut.” I was so scared Henry was going to bleed out, or worse. The thought of him turning ate me up inside.

Kellan was still moaning and drifting in and out of consciousness just a few feet away. The blood from his wounds was seeping through his clothing.

I decided I was going to kill that motherfucker. Henry suffered enough pain and humiliation because of all of the shit they had put him through. I was going to dish out some major revenge, and it was going to feel so damn good.

I got up and walked over to Thomas, took the gun away from him, and walked back to Kellan. No one noticed me because they were so busy working on Henry. I kicked Kellan in the ribs as hard as I could. He gasped and began coughing.

“Elaina!” Nick yelled, while holding Henry still. “Elaina, get away from him!”

“No,” I growled. I was calm and I felt at peace with what I was about to do. I knew it was murder, but I wanted to avenge Henry’s pain, humiliation, and possible true death. Kellan’s murderous eyes were watching me. I wasn’t sure if he was conscious or just out of it. I leaned down and spit in his face. Then I put the Sig to his forehead.

“Fuck off, you sick son of a bitch.” Kellan smirked at me. I had just about pulled the trigger when I heard Henry call out to me.

“Elaina. Don’t. I…need…him…alive.” Each word was dripping pain. He yelled out in agony again. He was trying to get up and get to me, but Nick held him down.

“Henry, you have to stay still or this is going to be worse for you,” Claire said to him, while watching me.

“I need…to get her away…from him. He’s unpredictable. He…will hurt her.” His worry for me was bringing him out of his state of shock.

“I understand, but I need to get you stabilized, or you could…” Claire shook her head, unsure of what he was or could be.

I needed to get back to Henry, but I wanted to kill that motherfucker first. Without warning, the ground was pulled out from under my feet.

Kellan had grabbed my ankle and hauled me down. He used all his might to crawl up on me. I was screaming and trying to push him off. He was on top of me, trying to bite me. He was weak enough that I was able to hold him back, but he was starting to overpower me because of my sudden onset of fatigue. The whole thing was emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausting me.

I still had the Sig in my hand, holding it to his ribs, and pulled the trigger.

Click. Click. Click.

The gun was fucking empty. You have got to be joking.

Kellan laughed and said, “Nice try, you foxy thing.” His words poured out of him with a sadistic edge. “I’m going to have you right here and now in front of lover boy, if it’s the last thing I do.”

I couldn’t believe he was going to try to rape me, even though he was shot and leaking. I felt his repulsive arousal against my thigh as he rubbed his hips against me. I wanted to puke.

He began clawing at my pants and his. I didn’t panic, remembering I still had the Sig in my hand. I pistol whipped him right across his temple. He let go of me and fell over onto the ground. I got up, breathing hard. The blow knocked him unconscious again.

For a second, I felt that I had conquered. My brilliant lack of judgment just happened so fast, no one had time to react. They were all too busy working on Henry, and Thomas was in his own little world. Nick ran to me when they finished. “Damn it! Why would you do that? He could have killed you!”

“I know, but what does it matter!” I yelled. My calm demeanor had purchased a ticket and left on the five o’clock train. I was back in Panicville once again. “Huh? Tell me. Fucking tell me!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “What does it matter if we die or not?”

“Elaina, it matters. We’re going to get through this!”

“Nick! Look at you! You are half-fucking-dead!” He swallowed hard. He wasn’t pleased that I reminded him of his new life status.

“I’m going to the cellar to get Mom.” He turned around, anger rolling off of him, and headed toward the cellar opening. I looked around.