It had been 3 days since Beau told me about my parents and I still refused to see him, in fact I even refused to even leave my room.
People brought food to me, a couple people stopped by asking me to see Beau but I said no or didn’t answer. The second day they broke my door down because they heard a vase break and they thought I was going to cut.
“Oh that is smart, break the damn door down.” I said to Skip
“What broke?” He asked coming over to me checking my arms and lifting my shirt to check my stomach. I quickly pulled away from him and pulled my shirt down.
“I bumped the bedside table and the vase tipped and broke, I wasn’t going to cut so hakuna-ya-tatas boys.” I said as I started picking up the broken pieces. Skip helped me pick up the pieces and when we were finished I looked over to see Beau standing at the door.
I froze in place, my heart racing and everything slowed down.
“Is everything okay?” He asked staring at me.
“Everything is fine.” I swallowed.
I turned my back to him and walked to the window.
Then they all left, including Beau.
I turned around to make sure he was gone and then I feel to my knees and started bawling my eyes out. I didn’t want to be mad at him but I felt like I had to be. He killed my parents.
So now a day later I lie in my bed with Thor next to me, thinking. Thinking about all the good times with my parents, which were only few.
I was about to doze off when I heard knocking on my door.
“Go away.” I yelled.
“Andrea, open up.” I heard someone from behind the door.
“No!” I yelled and turned over. I closed my eyes again then heard a gunshot. I sat up and looked to my door. I ran to the door and opened it to see Luke on the ground clutching his leg.
I quickly brought him in and shut my door. I pushed as much stuff in front of my door as I could and then ran to Luke.
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!” I said. I lifted his hands to see a blood all over his jeans and hands.
I quickly ran to my desk and pulled out my little emergency sewing kit, tweezers, and my bottle of wine.
I ran to the bathroom, poured wine on the needle then whipped it off with some toilet paper and ran to Luke.
“What is going on?” I asked, he looked so pale from the loss of blood.
“Luke, come on. Talk to me.” I said scared as I put the string in the needle.
“Do you even know what you are doing?” He asked quietly.
“I grew up with abusive parents. I had to stitch myself up all the time.” I said as I ripped his jeans open to get a better shot.
“Shit.” I said to myself and ran to the bathroom to put wine on the tweezers then whipped them off. I ran out to Luke again and I saw the bullet in his leg, it shined like a diamond ring.
I took my tweezers and pulled the bullet out and he screamed a bit.
“I am sorry, Luke.” I said feeling bad.
Then I started stitching him up, it wasn’t long until someone was pounding at my door trying to get in. I saw Luke staring at the door.
“Ignore it.” I said finishing the stitch up. I sewed the last stitch and cut the string and tied it up. I grabbed the wine and poured it on his leg. He let out a yelp. He sat back for a moment and breathed.
“Okay, help me up.” He said weakly.
I quickly helped him up.
“Listen to me, Kings is here and he wants you and he will do anything to g-“ He was interrupted by the sound of people pushing against my door. I saw the stuff in front of it being moved slowly and slowly as he pushed harder and harder.
I took Luke and put him in the bathroom, “I am sorry Luke, but this isn’t your battle anymore” and I shut and put a chair under the handle to lock the door in place.
I quickly made Thor hide under the bed and he whined at me and I felt so bad but it had to be done.
As they made their way in the first face I saw was Beau’s then Kings. I saw blood coming out of his arm and the only thing I thought was, ‘I am so sorry’
As I turned to run to the window I heard a gunshot then I felt unbearable pain. I was hit right in the shoulder where I could bleed out. I heard Beau yell “NO!” as I fell to the floor.
Now they don’t have to deal with Kings coming after them or anyone else trying to take me or anything else because I would be gone.
At least I thought I would be.
