Chapter 8 - The Price of Redemption
"Vincent!"
Anna didn't know when she let go of Leo. She didn't remember standing up. All she knew was that she was suddenly on her knees on the cold, wet stone, her hands desperately pressing against the gaping, bloody wounds in Vincent’s chest.
Blood—thick, hot, and crimson—was bubbling through his white shirt, soaking through his coat, coating Anna’s trembling hands.
"Stay with me! Vincent, look at me!" she screamed, her voice cracking into raw hysteria. "Thomas! Call an ambulance! SOMEONE CALL 911!"
Vincent lay on his back among the scattered palm fronds and shattered glass. His face was as pale as marble, his lips tinged with blue, but his dark eyes—usually so cold, so calculating—were locked onto Anna’s face with a look of absolute, transcendent peace.
He raised a blood-slicked hand, his fingers trembling as they reached toward her cheek.
Anna didn't pull away.
She leaned into his palm, her tears washing the blood from his skin.
"I... I came back," Vincent coughed, blood spilling over his lips. "Anna... I came back for you."
"Shut up, don't talk! Save your breath, damn you!" Anna wept openly, pressing down harder on the wound near his shoulder. "Why did you do that?! You idiot, why did you jump in front of the bullets?!"
"Because..." Vincent’s voice was fading to a weak, raspy whisper. "Because my life... wasn't worth anything... the second I left you on that runway."
"Mommy?"
A small, trembling voice sounded from behind them.
Leo crept out from behind the planter, his eyes wide with horror as he looked at the bleeding giant lying on the stone floor.
Vincent’s gaze shifted to the boy. His breath rattled in his chest. With agonizing effort, he forced a weak, gentle smile onto his bloodied lips.
"Hey... little man," Vincent whispered, his vision blurring at the edges. "Don't be scared... you’re safe now. Your mommy... she’s the bravest person in the world."
Leo took a hesitant step forward, reaching out with his tiny hand to touch Vincent’s blood-streaked sleeve. "Are you hurt, mister?"
"Just... a little tired," Vincent murmured, his eyes fluttering shut. "Anna... forgive me. Please... tell him... his father... loved him."
His hand slipped from Anna’s cheek, falling limply against the wet stone floor.
"Vincent? VINCENT!"
May you like
Anna shook his shoulders, her screams echoing under the shattered glass dome as sirens wailed in the distance. "Don't you dare die on me, Vincent Moretti! You owe me thirty-six months! You owe me a lifetime! OPEN YOUR EYES!"
***
