Second Chance Boyfriend (Drew + Fable 2)
Page 72“Oh, God.” Adele’s voice cracks, her arms trembling, the gun wavering. “This isn’t going to work, Andrew. I can’t shoot you. I love you too much.”
That’s what I hoped for, though I hate her choice of words. She doesn’t love me. She has some sort of weird obsession for me. “Then hand the gun over.”
“I can’t. I have to do this.” She drops her arms, the gun hanging from her fingers at her side. “You give me no choice.”
Fable presses closer to me, resting her head against my back. All I can think about is her safety. Forget me, forget Adele, forget everything and everyone else. I need Fable to be okay.
“Give you no choice for what?” I ask Adele.
“To do this. It’s all your fault, Andrew. Never forget that.” Adele places the barrel of the gun in her mouth.
And pulls the trigger.
Fable
Drew turns into me, buries his head against my hair as he clutches me so tight, I can’t breathe. Seconds later, the sound of gunshot. It’s so loud my ears are ringing. I can’t hear a thing. All I feel is Drew wrapped tight around me, his chest heaving, his arms shaking as they hold me close.
“Fuck me, she just shot herself,” I think I hear him say and I try to pull away from him.
But he won’t let me go.
Still Drew won’t let me go.
“Don’t look,” he whispers close to my ear. “You don’t want to see her. Don’t look, Fable.”
Worry clutches at my chest. Did he witness her do it? I don’t think so. He turned and grabbed me just before the gun went off. But I don’t know. God, I hope he didn’t see.
I don’t think my Drew can take much more tragedy and sorrow. He’s already endured enough.
Someone approaches us. I can hear their footsteps and I glance up, catch sight of a guy who looks around our age. “Are you all right?” he asks.
Drew lifts his head and I glance up at him. I see the anguish, the sorrow etched all over his face. I also see tiny splatters of blood dotting his shoulders. Oh, God. “We’re okay. Did someone call an ambulance?”
“Dude.” The man tips his head to look past us and immediately looks away. “There’s no need for an ambulance. There’s no saving her.”
I tighten my grip around Drew’s waist. “Has someone called the police?”
“Yeah, they should be on their way,” the man says, his face grim.
As if on cue, I hear the sirens in the near distance, coming closer and closer. They’re going to want to talk to us. I so don’t want to deal. I need to drop off my apartment deposit today. I need to go to work. Normal, everyday stuff.
Drew saved me. He stepped in front of me and told Adele to shoot him. I can’t believe he did that. That he would sacrifice himself for me…blows my mind.
Makes me realize just how much he loves me.
He finally relaxes his hold on me and I pull away from him slightly so I can see his face. “Did you see her do it?” I ask. I have to know.
Slowly he shakes his head, his gaze never leaving mine. “I saw her put the gun in her mouth but I turned just as she was pulling the trigger. I couldn’t watch that.” He exhales on a shaky breath. “I hated her, Fable. But I couldn’t stand there and watch her blow her brains out.”
I close my eyes and press my forehead to his firm chest. “Thank you,” I whisper. “You saved me.”
“I’ll always save you. You never have to worry about that.”
I finally, finally believe him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Two people in love, alone, isolated from the world, that’s beautiful. – Milan Kundera
Seven months later
Drew and I were never believers in the fairy tale. We both had our own issues, our problems, our f**ked-up home lives that blew all thoughts of happily ever afters right out of the water. Once upon a time, we were cynics facing the world alone. Our story changed into two warrior cynics facing the world together.
Now, we own the happily ever after and we refuse to let that bitch go.
I watch him now, sitting on the sidelines of the football field. It’s hot, even though it’s only nine in the morning, but the summer sun is intense. I have a pretty nice tan already from sitting out here for hours watching Drew practice with his team.
He’s sorta dreamy out there on the field. I love watching him play. He’s so talented, so in command of his teammates and his gameplay. Rumors are already spreading how his chance at a NFL contract is getting closer and closer.
Once upon a time, that would’ve scared the crap out of me. The thought of him leaving me behind. He’d want me to go along with him—and that would’ve scared me too.
Now I take everything day by day. No need for panic. When the time comes for a decision to be made, I know we’ll do the right thing.
Together.
I love how sweaty my man gets when he plays too. Does that make me a freak? Oh, I put on a big show when he grabs me and hugs me after practice, complaining loudly how gross he is, all stinky and damp.
But I’m lying. I love it.
He’s coming toward me now, a big grin on his face, and I stand, offering him a big smacking kiss before I hand over a fresh bottle of water. He takes it from me, tears off the cap and chugs every last drop within a few swallows.