Rewind

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*A/N- I had this whole really long chapter planned out, but then decided it would be better to split each of the sections up into their own chapters. That's what I've been working on while I've been sick. Anything to make sure it's perfect to lead us into our next big story with this couple. Bear with me as the next couple of chapters will be short or feel short. Please don't be mad at me. Happy reading! Enjoy!

Before the shots...

(MIA POV)
I moved closer to him. "This madness ends tonight. Just you and me. Let's finish this."

He laughed, "You think you're intimidating, Amelia? You're not going to hurt me. You can't. My children would hate you."

Roger moved forward enough to have his chest pressed against the end of the barrel. A sick grin fell upon his face, and I couldn't help but get nauseous.

He wasn't going to get in my head. I wouldn't allow it. "You have no idea how badly everyone wants this. Every person in your life would love to watch as the light leaves your eyes and you stop breathing. They'd throw a party in my honor if I could get you away from them for good."

"Stupid Bitch!" He reached forward and slapped me as hard as he could, causing me to stumble.

As I hit the floor, he fired the first shot at me. He'd hit me in my right side. Through and through. It felt like he'd hit something important, but I couldn't tell if it was an artery or an organ.

He moved to tower over me, holding the gun to my head. He was going to shoot. This is where I would die. My final thoughts would have to be of Charlotte since I couldn't let him cloud my mind.

My father saw this and broke free from Peter's grasp. He took every ounce of strength he had left to leap onto Roger and protect me. He wanted to protect me? He... he cared?

I scooted myself away. I leaned against one of the pillars, sitting up enough to see my wound and try to keep pressure. I was bleeding so much, and I could feel myself getting tired. Why was I so tired?

Roger and my father were practically tearing each other apart. They were fighting for the gun and my father was losing.

Peter was just watching it all happen. He made his way over to me and watched the color drain from my face. He didn't have much time. He took the gun from me and stood up as we heard a second shot.

My father was now lying on the floor, staring at me as he bled out. Roger had won. Roger had...

"Forgive me..." My father mouthed.

"Daddy, no!" I screamed as loud as I could. It was too late...

He was gone. He was...

Everything was happening so quickly. I could hardly keep up. What was going on?

Then the third shot.

Peter...

Roger's face had fallen. Everything about him was blank. He had been screaming before, but now he was silent. He had nothing left to say. Nothing left to feel. He had no thoughts, no words, no air.

Only the blood running down from his head as he fell backwards on the floor.

Roger was dead.

I watched as I got tired and Peter went to take a picture. He came back to me, took a picture of my wound, and brushed my hair from my face.

As I started to drift off, he said something to me that shook me to my core.

"Dying Amelia... she's coming for you. I hope you go quick. The things she's got planned for you... Precious Amelia..."

And then it all went dark.

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