Chapter 237

As the deafening sound of the gunshot echoed through the air, time slowed to a crawl. My heart pounded violently in my chest, and my ears rang with a high-pitched sound. Everything around me blurred into a chaotic mess.

I cried out, my voice trembling with fear and anguish, as the bullet grazed Timothy's arm. The metallic scent of blood fills the air, thick and suffocating.

In that split second, the world feels unreal, a nightmare I desperately wish to wake up from. Timothy’s eyes went wide with shock and he winced, clutching his wounded arm, trying to stem the bleeding.

My gaze darted back to Bruce, horror washing over me in waves. He staggered backward, a look of disbelief crossing his face. I saw the red stain spreading rapidly across his chest, the blood seeping through his fingers as the gun slips from his grasp, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

I screamed once more, my voice hoarse with panic, tears streaming down my cheeks. My muscles feel frozen as I watched Bruce collapse to the ground, his body convulsing with the shock of the impact. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the earth crimson.

His breathing became shallow, erratic, as he struggled to stay conscious. I wanted to move, to do something, but my limbs betrayed me, refusing to obey the frantic commands of my mind.

Timothy and I stood there, our breaths hitched, our hearts heavy with dread and helplessness. The air feels thick, suffocating, as if it's pressing down on us, making it impossible to think, to act.

"You shot him,” I said in a whisper, my hands shaking as I stepped away from him. I was only stopped by Timothy's firm grip around my waist.

I looked back at him, but his gaze was locked on Bruce, who’s breaths had become shallow and rapid. The streetlights cast an eerie glow on Bruce’s ashen face, his eyes becoming dull.

"Help... me..." Bruce's voice was barely a whisper, a feeble plea in the night.

I clutched Timothy's hand tighter, my heart shattering with every passing second. Tears streamed down my face unchecked as I watched Bruce's struggle for breath, each gasp weaker than the last. The pool of crimson beneath him grew.

And then, in a shuddering exhale, Bruce's body goes still. The silence that follows is deafening, a vacuum that sucks the air out of my lungs.

The reality crashes over me like a tidal wave, leaving me numb, hollow. Bruce, my main tormenter, lie lifeless before us. The weight of his absence settles in my chest, heavy and unbearable.

"Evie, we have to go," Timothy said, his voice hollow, torn between fear and survival instincts. He tugged at my arms, attempting to guide me away from the scene, his touch tender yet firm, as if shielding her from the brutality of the world.

I follow silently, my gaze lingering on the still figure on the ground. The image seared into my mind, haunting me with its tragic finality. Bruce's cruel laughter, his disgusting smirk, his presence—all reduced to a memory.

As we move away, the echoes of that moment linger, etching themselves into the fabric of our souls. The pain, the loss, and the chilling reminder that life can unravel in the blink of an eye—a haunting truth that we'll carry with us forever.

"I can’t believe he’s…" I placed a hand over my hand and whimpered.

Timothy pulled me into an embrace, both of us clinging to each other as if afraid the world would crumble around us.

"He's gone, Evie," Timothy assured me, rubbing circles on my back.

I nodded wordlessly, the weight of it all bearing down on me. He combed his fingers through my hair and nuzzled into the crook of my neck.

"Are you all right?" Timothy's voice was gentle as he pulled away to see my face. “Did he hurt you at all?”

I tried to speak, but words failed me. Tears welled up, blurring my vision, and before I knew it, I stumbled back into his arms.

"I can't... I can't believe this happened," I choked out between sobs.

Timothy held me close, his arms a safe haven amidst the chaos. He said nothing, letting the weight of my grief pour out in the tears that soaked his shirt.

“He'll never hurt you again," Timothy's voice was firm as he spoke again, cupping my face in his hands.

"Thank you, Timothy. I don't know what I'd do without you," I whispered, still sniffling.

Before I could comprehend my own actions, before rational thought could intervene, I leaned in and pressed a trembling kiss against his cheek.

Surprised by my sudden gesture, Timothy's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of emotion dancing across his features. He looked at me, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

"Evie, I..." Timothy began, his voice trailing off as if unsure of what to say next.

I took a deep breath, summoning the courage to articulate the unspoken gratitude and the newfound realization that had taken root within me. Without another thought, I closed the distance between us, my lips meeting his in a tentative yet fervent kiss.

The world around us seemed to fade into insignificance, leaving only the beating of our hearts echoing in the night. Timothy responded with a gentle urgency, his arms encircling me with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

As we pulled away, a whirlwind of emotions danced in the air, mingling with the residual shock of the night's events. I searched Timothy's eyes, silently conveying a depth of gratitude that transcended words.

"Thank you," I murmured once more, my voice filled with a newfound resolve.

Timothy nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I love you too, Evie."

The words hung in the air like a delicate veil, catching me off guard. My cried of desperation for him came flooding back to me, my confession of love echoing through the air. I felt my cheeks begin to burn.

I opened my mouth to respond, but the blaring sirens shattered the fragile moment, pulling us back to the grim reality that loomed over us.

My gaze shifted from Timothy to Bruce's lifeless form lying nearby, an ominous reminder of the night's unfathomable turn of events. Dread coiled in the pit of my stomach, tightening its grip as I realized the implications of what had transpired.

"It’ll be okay," Timothy's voice broke through the haze of panic that threatened to overwhelm me.

I nodded and turned away from his still figure, his presence almost haunting. With trembling hands, I started to move, ready to follow Timothy's lead as he guided further away.

But as I pulled away from Timothy's grasp, a sudden jolt of terror seized me. I looked down at my palms, now slick with blood, the stark crimson staining my skin. A shiver ran down my spine, an inexplicable dread settling over me like a suffocating shroud.

"Timothy, your shoulder," I gasped, my voice a tremulous whisper.

I turned my gaze back toward Timothy, fear knotting in my stomach at the sight of the blood seeping through his shirt, the wound stark against the fabric. I gasped.

"You're hurt!" I exclaimed.

Timothy glanced down at his shoulder, a grimace of pain flashing across his face. "It's just a graze. I’ll be fine."

The sirens grew louder, and suddenly we were blinded by various headlights from the police cars rolling toward us.