Chapter 123
Amanda
The weight of the gun in my hand gives me power. That's what I keep telling myself as I stand in this empty lot near St. Mary's Hospital, watching the sun begin its descent.
The metal feels cool against my palm, heavier than I expected, but comforting in a strange way. Finally, I have control. Finally, I can end this fucking nightmare.
I've been waiting for almost an hour, positioned perfectly behind an abandoned construction trailer. This secluded shortcut between the hospital and the parking structure is rarely used except by staff who smoke or visitors who know the hospital layout. No security cameras. No witnesses. Just me and the solution to all my problems.
Every time I close my eyes, I see them together. I see him looking at her the way he never looked at me. He's supposed to be mine. He was always supposed to be mine.
When I spot them walking down the cracked concrete path—Sophia, Caroline, and Blake—my heartbeat steadies with eerie calm. They're talking in low voices, unaware of my presence. Blake looks exhausted, his shoulders hunched forward slightly, his hand occasionally running through his hair the way it does when he's stressed.
Sophia walks beside him, her amber eyes focused ahead, that irritating quiet confidence radiating from her even in simple jeans and a white blouse.
She doesn't deserve him. Never did. That bitch waltzed back into his life and ruined everything I worked so fucking hard for.
I step out from my hiding place, raising the gun with both hands just like I practiced at the shooting range with Daddy years ago. My heart hammers against my ribs, but my hands remain perfectly steady.
"Hello, Sophia."
All three freeze. Sophia's eyes widen, her body going rigid. Caroline takes a protective step closer to her client. But it's Blake's reaction that stabs me like a fucking knife—the way he immediately moves in front of Sophia, shielding her with his body.
He's never protected me like that. Not once. Not ever. The realization burns through me like acid.
"Amanda," Blake says calmly, his hands raised slightly. "Put the gun down. Whatever you're thinking, this isn't the way."
I laugh, the sound hollow even to my own ears. "Now you want to talk? After you humiliated me? After you threw me out like fucking garbage?" My voice rises with each question, hysteria creeping in. "After you chose her over me? Do you have any idea what that feels like?"
"Ms. Price," Caroline speaks in that infuriatingly professional tone. "The police are already looking for you. Don't make this worse for yourself."
"Shut the fuck up!" I snap, then fix my gaze back on Sophia. My vision tunnels until she's all I can see. "This is all your fault. You took everything from me. Everything I worked for, everything I deserved."
Sophia stares back, her expression shifting from fear to something harder. She's not cowering. Why isn't she cowering? Even with a gun pointed at her chest, she looks at me like I'm beneath her.
"Blake is mine," I continue, my voice steadying as cold determination washes through me. "He's always been mine. If I can't have him—" I aim directly at her heart, feeling strangely detached from my own body, "—you won't either."
"Amanda, please," Blake pleads, his voice cracking. "This isn't you. Put down the gun and we'll figure this out together."
For a brief moment, I hesitate. There's genuine fear in his eyes—not for himself, but for her. Always for her. He never looked that scared for me, not even when I told him I was pregnant.
"This is the only way to end it," I whisper, more to myself than to them. This is her fault. All of it. If she had just stayed the fuck away, we would have been happy.
I pull the trigger.
The gunshot cracks through the evening air like thunder. But what happens next seems to unfold in slow motion—Blake lunges sideways, throwing his body in front of Sophia. The bullet meant for her heart strikes him instead. He crumples to the ground, his white shirt blooming with crimson as he lands hard on the rough cement.
"No!" I scream, horror flooding through me. "No, no, no! Blake!" Oh God, what have I done? Not him. Please not him.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Not him. Never him. My stomach lurches violently, bile rising in my throat as I watch his blood spread across his shirt.
Sophia drops to her knees beside him, pressing her hands against the wound, her fingers quickly becoming slick with his blood. "Blake!" she cries, her voice breaking. "Stay with me!"
Rage surges through me again, hot and blinding. Even now, she's touching him, holding him. She doesn't deserve to touch him. She doesn't deserve his sacrifice. I raise the gun again, aiming at her back this time.
"I hate you, Sophia!" I scream, my voice raw with fury and despair. "He's mine. You ruined everything! You fucking bitch, you took him from me!"
If I kill her now, it will still be worth it. If I can't have Blake, at least I'll have the satisfaction of watching her die.
Sophia turns her head, her amber eyes meeting mine. There's no fear in them now—only pure, undiluted hatred. She doesn't beg for her life. She doesn't cower. She just stares at me with those eyes that challenge me to pull the trigger.
My finger tenses on the trigger—
Suddenly, I'm tackled from the side. My arm twists painfully behind my back, the gun clattering to the ground. My face slams against the concrete, the taste of blood filling my mouth as someone's knee presses into my spine.
"Amanda Price, you're under arrest," a voice barks in my ear.
I don't struggle as cold metal handcuffs click around my wrists, the steel a stark contrast against my diamond tennis bracelet. This isn't happening. This can't be happening. I'm Amanda fucking Price. I don't get arrested. I don't lose.
Through my tears, I see Leon running from the hospital direction, shouting frantically.
"Get medical help! Hurry! They're over here!"
"Take her away!" an officer commands.
But I barely register these words. My eyes remain fixed on Blake lying on the ground, blood pooling beneath him, and Sophia bent over him, sobbing.
"Blake! No, please don't leave me. The hospital is right there, hold on! We need you!"
We? We need you? How dare she claim him like that? How fucking dare she?
I've failed. I didn't hit Sophia. Instead, I shot the only person I've ever truly loved. And now they're taking me away, locking me up, while Blake and Sophia—if he survives—will have their happy ending.
My life is over. Everything I've worked for, everything I've schemed for—gone in an instant.
"I'm sorry!" I cry out, my perfectly applied makeup streaking down my face, snot running from my nose. "I'm sorry, Blake! This is all her fault. She made me do this! I never wanted to hurt you! I just wanted her gone!"
As the officers drag me toward the waiting police car, I watch Sophia cradling Blake's head in her lap, whispering to him through her tears. Her hands are covered in his blood, pressing desperately against his chest. In that moment, I understand what I've been denying all along—he loves her. He would die for her.
No one has ever loved me that way. Not my parents. Not my friends. Not Blake. No one.
The reality crashes down on me as they push my head down into the back of the police car. I catch one last glimpse of them as paramedics finally arrive on the scene—Sophia refusing to let go of Blake's hand, her face twisted in grief and terror.
When the car door slams shut, I close my eyes and let the darkness take me.