Chapter 157: He’s not allowed to die.

The door closes and I’m left standing outside.

For a few seconds, I don’t move. I simply stare at the wooden door, listening to the faint sounds coming from the other side. I can hear Rocco giving instructions, Daniel moving equipment, and the occasional metallic clink of something being placed on a tray.

They’re working on him.

My husband is lying on the other side of that door, and I can’t do anything about it.

I look down at my hands to see they’re covered in blood.

There’s blood on my palms, my wrists, and even beneath my fingernails. Some of it has dried, leaving dark reddish stains against my skin, while the rest remains sticky.

I try wiping my palms against my dress but it only makes things worse. The fabric absorbs the blood, spreading the stains across the material. I rub harder, almost desperately, but it doesn’t disappear.

Fuck.

I remember the way he looked at me when I dropped beside him. He had two bullets in his body, yet somehow, the first thing he wanted to know was whether I was hurt.

I close my eyes.

Why the hell would he ask me that?’Why would he worry about me when he was the one bleeding?

My throat tightens.

I take a step backwards until my legs meet a chair. Then I sink into it, covering my face with both hands and suddenly, I can’t hold myself together anymore.

A sob escapes me, then another. I press my palms against my eyes, but the tears keep coming. My shoulders begin to shake, and I struggle to catch my breath.

I shot that woman, I killed her but I can’t even bring myself to think about that properly because all I can see is Lysander dropping to his knees.

The sound of the gunshot keeps replaying in my head, his hand going to his stomach, the blood and then then his body falling.

I squeeze my eyes shut harder.

This is my fault.

If I hadn’t gone there, perhaps none of this would have happened....Maybe he would still be sitting in his office, irritating everyone around him with his ridiculous attitude, maybe he would still be alive and perfectly fine.

I know the blonde pulled the trigger. I know she’s the one who shot him.

But I can’t stop thinking about the fact that I brought a gun into that room too, I went there prepared to hurt someone and now Lysander is behind a closed door fighting for his life.

I don’t know how long I sit there crying.

The sound of footsteps eventually makes me lift my head.

Hakeem approaches, carrying a glass of water. He looks exhausted, and there’s blood stains on his sleeve.

He places the glass on the small table beside me.

"Ma’am."

I look at him.

"You should drink something."

I glance at the glass but don’t touch it.

He doesn’t insist. Instead, he pulls a chair a short distance away and sits down.

For a while, neither of us speaks and the silence is almost unbearable.

I keep looking towards the treatment room, hoping the door will open and Rocco will walk out with good news.

But it doesn’t.

Eventually, I turn towards Hakeem.

"Do you think he’s going to die?"

He looks at me. His lips part slightly, but no words come out immediately and that silence tells me more than I want to know.

I look away, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"He’s not allowed to die," I whisper. "I haven’t finished being angry with him."

Hakeem lowers his eyes and I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand, trying to regain some composure.

A few minutes later, footsteps approach again.

This time, they’re heavier and faster.

I look up to see a huge man entering the hallway, followed closely by Jeremiah.

His expression is serious, and Jeremiah looks furious.

The moment his eyes land on me, he stops. His gaze moving from my face to my dress, then down to my hands.

"What happened?"

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out immediately.

He takes another step closer.

"Nerissa. What happened to my brother?"

I swallow.

"The woman..."

"What woman?"

"The blonde woman. She had a gun and she shot him."

Jeremiah’s expression darkens.

"She shot Lysander?"

I nod.

"Twice."

His jaw tightens.

"And you?"

I look down at my hands.

"I shot her."

Jeremiah drags a hand over his face.

"Fuck. How is it that you’ve been married to my brother for just a few months and he’s been shot an alarming number of times?"

I slowly raise my head, my eyes burning as I stare at him.

"Did you just try to blame this on me?"

He looks directly at me.

"I’m not fucking wrong, though. Am I?"

My lips part.

I cannot believe what I’m hearing but before he can respond, the large man standing beside Jeremiah steps forward.

I’ve seen him with Lysander several times, although I don’t know his name. He’s broad-shouldered, with a serious expression and a voice that sounds like it belongs to someone twice his size.

He grips Jeremiah’s arm and pulls him backwards.

"This isn’t the time for this, Jerry."

Jeremiah jerks his arm free.

"Don’t fucking touch me."

"Then stop acting like an idiot."

Jeremiah curses under his breath and turns away.

His fist connects with the wall beside me.

I flinch.

My eyes squeezing shut instinctively.....When I open them again, Jeremiah has moved away from me.

The man gives Jeremiah a warning look before turning towards me.

"Are you hurt?"

I shake my head.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He nods, then looks towards the treatment room.

"How long has Rocco been inside?"

"Not long. He told me to wait outside."

The man glances at the closed door, his expression tightening.

Jeremiah suddenly turns back towards us.

"Is the body there?"

I frown.

"What?"

"The lady you shot. I’m assuming she’s still there?"

"Yes. I... I left her there. My main concern was Lysander."

I hate that I’m stammering, i hate the way my voice sounds so small and uncertain.

This isn’t who I am.

I’m not that weak little girl anymore. I’m not the girl who freezes whenever something terrible happens. I’ve spent years learning how to defend myself, how to fight, how to survive.

But right now, I feel completely useless.

The large man turns towards Jeremiah.

"We need to clean that body. Call the cleanup crew."

Jeremiah scoffs.

"You know they’re a pain in the ass. I don’t want to have to deal with them now."

"Fine. I’ll call them."

He turns away, muttering something under his breath, and walks towards the far end of the hallway. He takes his phone from his pocket and brings it to his ear.

Jeremiah watches him leave before rubbing his fore head.

I turn towards the treatment room again.

Please, Lysander....please be okay.