Sabrina's brother in the media! The song is just one I kind of randomly picked out. Couldn't find a good one this chapter. Sorry it took so long to post, but enjoy!

Madison gave me a ride to Sabrina's house, after first using all her strength to drag me through the parking lot. She didn't bail on me, even when I started giving myself a hard time about making her miss school. Maybe she thought she owed me for being the one running to warn Rodney.

    I shake the thought away. I can't bear to thinking about what happened with Amber. My control had flown out the window back there, uncontrollable rage driving me more than I've ever felt before. Afterward, guilt was tearing me apart. It still is.

    On the way, Maddie had tried the best she could to convince me that everything was going to be fine. She didn't hear the fear in Sabrina's voice, so she doesn't know just how not fine everything is.

    My finger is coming down on the doorbell with a vengeance, the wood of the door feeling the wrath of my fist soon after. Every second that passes, the beating in my heart accelerates and the pounding in my head feels like a mallet colliding against my skull. Finally, the door opens and I'm surprised to see Troy standing in the doorway.

    He scoffs, prepared to slam the door in my face, but something stops him. "What do you think gives you the right to show up here?"

    Dread makes my voice shake and I just manage to choke the words out. "Sabrina. Is she here? I need to see her."

    "Shouldn't you be at school?" he snarls.

    "Shouldn't you?"

    "Sick day," he says, glare deepening. "Sabrina's not here."

    "Then where the fuck is she?" The fear is tearing me apart on the inside. If she's not here, she could be anywhere.

    Troy shrugs. "How should I know? I thought she was at school."

    He must be mistaking my anxiety for lunacy, because there's no sign that he's taking me seriously. "Listen, Troy. This is important. If you hear from her, let me know right away."

    "You think I haven't heard about that little mishap at Harry's?" Troy's eyes are filled with hatred, most likely beating the shit out of me in his mind.

    "The story going around school isn't true," I pleaded, grabbing his shoulder, but he swats my hand away. "Amber was telling everyone that's what happened, but I never hit her. I never hit your sister."

    "I know." His lips twitch when he notices my confusion. "Oh, I'm sorry. Were you expecting that I be shocked and say 'how could I have ever believed Amber's lies?'"

    My eyes narrow in confusion. "I don't-"
    "Understand?" He cocks an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest, completely settled in his aggressive state. "I know you never hit Sabrina, but the bruises on her arms didn't come from nowhere. Harry told Amber and me what really happened, and the two of us did what we thought was necessary."

    Fists clench tightly at my sides. "What are you talking about?"

    "You think Amber acted alone on this?" His chuckle is harsh. "I told her to spread it around. Harry cautioned us against it, told us it was a bad idea and he wouldn't play a part in making you a social pariah. Loyal to a fault, that guy. But, point is, I have a whole school keeping an eye out. You will never be able to hurt my sister again."

    The door slams in my face before I can say anything else. My hand runs through my hair when my eyes start to water all over again. I try to suck it up. Sabrina is more important than my own misery or getting back at her douche of a younger brother.

    When I'm back in the passenger seat, Maddie asks me what happened, but I ignore the question. "Just drop me off at home. There's something I need to do."

Maddie finally pulls out of my driveway when I assure her that I'll be okay. If she starts worrying about me all the time, I'll really lose it. Plus, I don't want her to know why I had her drop me off here in the first place.

As I stroll down the long driveway, the house comes into view, my eyes narrowing on something suspicious on the steps leading onto the front porch. My stomach drops when my vision focuses - I realize it isn't something, but someone. The sound of blood pumps rapidly in my ears and my heartbeat outweighs the slapping of my feet against the concrete when I bolt in that direction.

There's a small part of me that hopes it to be Sabrina, but the other brings a feeling of dread to rest on my chest, making every breath unbearable. From where I am, I can't tell if they're breathing, but it's definitely a girl with dark brown hair. She can't possibly be anyone else.

I drop to my knees when I reach her, holding my breath as I brush the hair out of her face. "Oh, God."

Her face is covered in blood, but I sigh in relief when she stirs slightly. "Sabrina, can you hear me?"

With shaky hands, I carefully lift her head off the cold cement and guide her body in my lap. Bile rises and burns my throat when my nose wrinkles to the metallic smell that's matted into her hair. My eyes sting and heat rises to my cheeks. Blood boils under my skin, through my veins, and spreads a fire through my whole body.

"You're going to be okay." My voice shakes, my body's way of telling my brain that I'm really just trying to reassure myself. "You're going to wake up, and it's going to be okay."

Unsteady fingers tear at the sleeves of my coat. When my arms are free, I roll it into a ball and secure it under her head like a pillow. Pulling my keys out of my back pocket, trembling fingers make the simple task of unlocking a door seem impossible.

I kneel down beside her, sliding one arm behind her back and the other under her knees, her head coming to rest on my shoulder when I stand. A moan vibrates from her lips like she's trying to say something, but I'm sure she's still unconscious.

"It'll be okay. Everything will be okay," I mumble.

Holding her in my arms again would have been considered a gift under different circumstances, but now it only feels like a curse.

The blood of my girlfriend seeps into the fabric of my sweatshirt as I make the trip to the basement. A pounding in my head mixes with the pressure of Sabrina's thigh against my ribcage, making the walk down extra rough on my sore muscles. I ignore the ache in my arms, pushing myself to make it to my room so I can lay her down.

A slight nudge of my foot helps ease the door open before I lay her down on the bed, making sure her head falls lightly onto my pillow. Her blood is still fresh, so I quickly grab a towelette and wipe some of it away to get a better look at what the damage is. My jaw clenches tighter with every discovery. Each one chipping away at my self-control and pent up rage. The rage that has been messing up everything and everyone in my life.

Life would be so much easier for all of them if I was no longer here. I know that for sure because that was all my drunkard mind could think about for the past three days. There's not one person who wouldn't be better off if I'm gone.

The people I've hurt, the lives I've ruined: my plan will solve all of those problems.

When I'm done cleaning her face, I fetch a glass of water and aspirin from the kitchen. She is still out when I get back, so I put the drink and pills on the nightstand. I hope to God that Sabrina stays asleep until I leave, knowing that if she wakes, she'll convince me not to go.

Blood soaks through my sweatshirt. It's an unmistakeable blotch on the right shoulder as big as a baseball.

I tear it off and toss it towards the trash can. I miss but ignore it. My sweatpants are the next to come off and I swap them out for some dark jeans. There's a bomber jacket hanging on the door handle of my closet, so I throw it on over a plain, black t-shirt.

Looking back over at Sabrina, I notice most of her beauty has been restored. Her condition isn't serious, but there's no way in hell I will leave her here like this. Dark bruises are forming on her left cheek and another around her opposite eye, taunt her, once flawless, skin relentlessly. Though she looks like she'll be fine, there's no telling what damages lie under the surface.

The bed sinks underneath me when leaning over her. My hand brushes lightly on her blemished cheek, brows furrowing.

"This is all my fault," I admit, slamming my eyes shut in an attempt blink the tears away. "I've been selfish and stupid, but I'm going to make up for it. You don't have to worry about me fucking up your life anymore. I promise."

I force myself up and off the bed, grabbing a pair of shoes before pulling Sabrina's phone from her back pocket. Taking a deep breath, I dial 9-1-1 and wait.

"Nine one one, what's your emergency?" It's a woman's voice. When I give no reply, she repeats herself before adding, "Hello? If you can hear me, please respond."

It takes a lot of willpower to stay silent, but I know standard procedure will require her to send a patrol car, who in turn will call an ambulance. Sabrina will be properly cared for.

Placing Sabrina's phone beside her on the bed, I let the call continue so they can trace it. Without looking back, I leave the room. If I do look back, I know I'd change my mind and not leave her side until the paramedics arrive.

When I get to the top of the stairs, I run straight for my father's office - my intended destination before I found Sabrina passed out on my front steps. I grip the corner of his desk to help me turn the sharp corner before reaching underneath.

"Fuck!" Nails dig into my palms as my fists pound on the desktop and my foot connects with the office chair beside me. It doesn't tip over, just rolls until roughly slamming into the wall, rattling a painting just a couple feet overhead.

Andrew must have moved it after I took it the last time. I hastily check all the drawers, the pressure of finding it before the ambulance gets here is crushing me.

The bottom drawer doesn't open and I know I've hit the jackpot. A letter opener rests on the desk next to a stack of bills, which I jam into the lock below the handle on the drawer. There's no time to find a key. Just like I had hoped, the lock breaks and the drawer opens with ease. And to my luck, there it is between discarded papers.

Andrew's gun taunts me for a moment before I take hold of the grip. My eyes trace every inch of the 9mm and I realize my hands are no longer shaking. The rapid racing of my heart has slowed and I can breathe with ease.

I don't even remember the last time I've felt this calm.

Before leaving, I check the magazine. Seven bullets will be enough. Enough, at least to finally rid the world of Dax Caine.

Indefinitely.

***

Thanks so much for reading! I was on vacation in America and that's why it took so long for me to post again. Thanks for all the patience and I hope you liked the chapter.

There are only three chapters left til this book comes to an end. It's been a long journey, but we're finally almost there! Thanks so much to those who are still reading this story even through the long waits for updates. You guys mean a lot to me (:

Don't forget to leave a comment or maybe even hit that star in the corner if the chapter deserved it.

Til next time,

TheWriterD