RUINED ALREADY [18+]

|Thirty-Nine|

♦Penelope♦

Could you recall watching a really cliche action movie where the climax occurred in that perfect slow motion? It enables you to see the panic-stricken expression on the main character's face. You saw the terror and utter lack of power when the victim knew he or she was at their end.

That was a bag if bullshit. Nothing happened in slow motion. It was adrenaline fueled rush. You didn't have time to think about facial expressions. Survival instinct kicked in and your ears roared with blood and your hearts palpitations grew fierce and painful. That was how I felt.

As I looked around me, expecting chaos and that tell-tale burn from the gunshot, there was nothing. I vaguely remember throwing myself before Emilio when I heard the gunshot.

Instead I was on the ground, my left hip and back hurting from my hard fall.

"Penelope?"
Emilio's hand, stink with the scent of gun powder cupped my face. He pulled me to my weak legs effortlessly and it was then I smelled it. The metallic tang of blood. His suit-clad arm was bleeding.
"You're bleeding!"
He held me close. "It's only a graze. It didn't pierce the flesh."
He squeezed my cold, shaking hands, warming them.
"Plus, I think I got him good."
I followed his gaze to see Brad laying immobile on the ground. The gun laid a few inches from his fingers. Blood oozed out of the center of his chest.

"

I think I broke his heart," Emilio chuckled.

"B-Brad," I gasped. "Is he dead?"
Emilio released me and walked to where he laid. He pressed a finger to Brad's pulse and hissed through his teeth.

"The fucker has a pulse," he growled.
"Should we call the police?"
He met my gaze and not even the dim lighting could hide the animalistic quality his features had taken on.
Rising to his feet, his quite words were calm but lethal. "Or we could fetch a shovel and burry him alive."

He meant every word. In that moment I was more afraid of him than Brad pointing a gun at us. He took a step towards me and I took one back.
Hurt flashed through his eyes and he cursed in Spanish, turning away from me.
"I'll call the police."
He walked away from me. I didn't know how long I sat there staring at the blood oozing from Brad's chest through my hand. Emilio never came back. My dress was bloody from pressing it to his round to stop the flow of fingers. My hand was warm and sticky and I had to swallow back bile.  Blood made me squeamish and my stomach kept churning to release its content at the sight of the wet crimson that ensnared my hand.  I had my reasons why I was trying to save him, the main one being, he was the only person who was always there for me.

He deserved the chance to tell why he wanted to kill me. Or was it Emilio because he hated him? So many questions were swimming in my head.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity I heard the sound of an ambulance. A voice in my tried to persuade me that Emilio had asked them to drive slowly so Brad could die. I reminded myself that Emilio could be very vicious ad he could tender. And so are you, Penelope. We were so much more alike than I liked to admit.

Two paramedics wearing black and white strode towards me with a gurney.

"He lost a lot of blood," I told them.
I backed away. When they were done I followed them out front to see Emilio being patched up by a female paramedic and if course I wasn't shocked to see the police car either.