And the man fired. Angie thought he was going to fire the relief right off of Pepin’s face, but it hit his leg. Pepin limped forward, seemingly unaffected by the wound. The man probably thought it was rage, as Pepin’s face only displayed it. His eyebrows were close to his narrow eyes, his teeth bared. His blue eyes were filled with nothing but hate.
Angie fought for a moment, struggling to get out of the chair. But what could she do? The man was dead now, as he probably should be, joining his brothers in whatever afterlife he believed in.
She couldn’t move when the man shot Pepin again in the arm.
She couldn’t move when Pepin broke through the front door.
She couldn’t move as the man reloaded.
She couldn’t move as Pepin tore open the man’s stomach.
Pepin and her made eye contact as the man spit up blood. Maybe their shared soul could help them read each other’s minds, or maybe Angie’s soul suppressed Pepin’s rage and filled him with compassion.
The man shot Pepin in the chest.
Or maybe Pepin just wanted to be dead for once.
Pepin spit up blood in a similar manner, and his eyes rolled back, turning bloodshot. The man smiled, showing the red tint of his teeth.
“I did it,” he said, his voice rasping. He looked to Angie, falling to his knees. “I’m sorry.”
And his eyes stayed on her as his head hit the ground. She struggled to free herself again, but she couldn’t escape, she couldn’t escape his gaze. She watched as his breaths grew less consistent. She could have looked away, she could have stared at Pepin instead, but she couldn’t break the man’s gaze, even as his eyes clouded over and his breath stopped.
Pepin got up. “I thought he’d never go,” he said. “I’ve almost fully healed.”
Angie smiled, feeling Pepin’s bloodied hands cup her cheeks. “Are you all right, meine Schatz?”
“I’m fine,” Angie said, almost laughing. “I’m fine.”
He kissed her on the lips, and she breathed him in. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and never let go, regardless of how awkward and uncomfortable that would be. Of course, she was still tied to the chair.
Angie pulled away from the kiss early. “Could you untie me, please?”
“Of course,” Pepin said, slicing the ropes carefully with his nails. He lifted her into his arms. “Now let’s get you into a warm bath.”
“That sounds lovely,” Angie said, resting her head against his chest. “But I can walk. I’d really like to use my own legs.”
He set her down and she found herself looking at the body of the man. “I’ll get someone to clean it up,” Pepin said.
Angie nodded, biting her bottom lip. She didn’t like the idea of the body just being tossed into the ocean, but they couldn’t exactly give him a proper burial. He was still a criminal after all.
Pepin put a hand on her shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, no one will know.”
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