Initiate Me (27 page)

I heard a loud thump and then the door slammed shut. I heard footsteps coming down the stairs but they didn’t sound like Brandon’s; they were light and there was a click to them as if the shoes had a heel.

A torch was switched on and it was immediately targeted at my face, obscuring my vision. I had no idea who it was. All I knew was that it wasn’t Brandon.

“Well, it seems we are finally alone, doesn’t it, Miss Brunetti.”

I knew that voice. Jessica. My mood, which only moments before was so jovial, had shifted to being one of pure fear and dread.
Oh, God, how did she get in here and where is Brandon?
As she approached me, I could barely make out her features, but I could see that the look on her face was absolutely lethal.

“Where is Brandon? What have you done with him?”

“Oh, him. It seems he lost his footing at the top of the steps and fell. Oh, dear, I’m afraid accidents happen sometimes,” she sneered. “So, what type of accident is going to happen to you, I wonder, Miss Prim and Proper?”

What the hell was she talking about? An accident? Was she threatening me again?

I tried to move, but the second I moved backward, she lunged forward and grabbed me by my top, ripping it in the process. “You crazy bitch!” I yelled. My fear had evaporated and my adrenaline had kicked in. I was so sick of her attacking me. Following me in there was the last straw, and knocking out Brandon in the process only added to my anger.

“Don’t piss me off,
angel
.” She mimicked the endearment Zane called me, making it sound ugly coming off her lips. Her eyes were pure evil.

Throwing the cellar keys on the ground, I made quick work of the distance between us and kicked her in the chest, knocking her skinny arse to the ground. My mind didn’t register the sharp pain in my leg long enough for me to even give it a thought. While she was hunched over gripping her chest, I grabbed her by the hair, pulling on it and slamming her to the ground.

“Don’t piss
me
off, bitch! I am sick of you stalking me and Zane. He has told you numerous times it is over. You mean nothing to him. NOTHING!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. Damn Zane for making the cellar soundproof. There was no way they could hear me from out in the front bar. Surely they would realise I was taking too long to get a bottle of wine. Where the hell were they?

“He will never be yours. He will always be mine,” she growled, still on the ground. “I can’t let you have him!”

“Well, I have a newsflash, bitch. You are very wrong because I already have him.” I smiled sweetly at her, but when her face contorted into what I could only describe as
off her rocker
, I knew she was way past seeing any sort of reasoning or understanding.

“He is only having some fun with you. He needs a real woman, like me. Only I know how to satisfy Zane’s desires and fetishes; you are only a girl.”

“You’re insane.”

She staggered and stood, turning her attention back to me. I didn’t even need to focus on her to realise she was pointing a gun to the left side of my head. The sickening click of her releasing the safety latch was all I needed to hear.

“You got that right. I admit it. I
am
crazy, and if you even think about moving one fucking inch, I’m going to put a goddamn bullet through your head, angel girl.”

The only way I could get out of my bad situation was to try and reason with her. There was no way I could make her angrier, so I had to give it a shot; it was my only chance. “Please, put the gun down. Why don’t we go on outside and we can talk, like two rational adults,” I begged her. I tried to swallow the lump of fear crawling up my throat, but my mouth had gone bone-dry. I heard a movement at the top of the stairs, knowing it was Brandon. But it was so dark in the cellar and all I could see was the few inches in front of me. And that was crazy-bitch Jessica.

I tried to take a look at Brandon but I couldn’t see a thing. He was my only chance at escaping the bitch.
Shit!
 
Okay.
 
Think Mia, think!

“I told you not to even think about moving, or you are DEAD, LITTLE GIRL!” Her maniacal screams caused me to jump, and I reached out to grab the wine shelf closest to me to save me from falling on the steps.

“Please, Jessica,” I begged. “You can have Zane; I don’t need him. I’ll break it off. You’re right, you are more suited to him. I am too young for him,” I lied, trying to buy myself a little more time until Zane and my brothers realise I was locked in the damn cellar with a psychopath.
Shit!
 
Why haven’t they come to look for me yet?
My heart sank when I realised it may just be too late. Unless Brandon woke up, I would have no one to help me.

She held the gun firmly in place, her glassy eyes looking over every single inch of the cellar as she flashed the torch around. She pointed it directly at Brandon, who was still curled in a foetal position at the top of the steps.

“Don’t lie to me. I don’t like being lied to. You are nothing but a slut. Does Zane know you were sneaking off to the cellar with this young guy? You want them both. Do you think I am stupid?” Her laugh came out as if she was possessed. “You just couldn’t just keep your hands off my man, could you? You and your Brunetti name had to come in and fuck everything up for me!”

I retreated down one of the steps when she turned her attention to Brandon. He started to get up from his position on the floor.

“Both of you stop fucking moving, or I will shoot!” she screamed, inching closer to Brandon. Our situation was turning into a nightmare. Brandon was standing at the door with Jessica pointing the gun right at him.

“Jessica, please let him go. It’s me you have the problem with; Brandon is innocent in all of this. I will do anything you want. Just let him go.”

She laughed at me again, and I knew it was only going to get uglier.

An idea came to my mind. If I could move discreetly and grab one of the wine bottles closest to me, I could use that somehow. Luckily, she wasn’t facing me anymore and I could try and grab one while she was moving closer to Brandon.

But I was too late. Absolute terror washed over my body and I froze, screaming when I heard the deafening sound of the bullet leaving the chamber. I then watched the entire scene before me as if I was a part of the worst horror movie. Everything happened in slow motion, and I watched helplessly and with stone-cold fear as Jessica and Brandon attacked one another as they both fell to the floor.

I heard the gun go off again, and that time, I saw Brandon’s body covered in blood as it rolled to the side.
Dear God, he was trying to help me and he got shot in the process.

I grabbed the wine bottle from the shelf and screamed at the top of my lungs.

“You crazy, stupid, psychopathic BITCH!” The sick bitch shot my friend, and I’d be damned if I was going down without a fight. I smashed the wine bottle over her head before she could turn back toward me. It fragmented into a thousand tiny pieces, glass flying everywhere as Jessica slumped to the floor instantly.

It seemed to take forever, but really it had only been seconds since Brandon hit the floor from the gunshot. With a sob, I rushed toward him where he lay motionless on the timber landing. I felt a buzzing and echoing in my ears, only to realise that they were actually coming from my own mouth. I finally reached him and huddled down beside him, cradling his bloody face in my arms. “Brandon, please wake up! Please open your eyes! Oh, God...Brandon.”

“God, someone, please HELP!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I knew it wasn’t a good sign when I saw blood oozing out of his stomach. “Brandon,” I whispered. For a split-second, he opened his eyes, but as I held his body closer to me, they slipped closed again just as fast.

I sobbed frantically; I had no idea what to do. I racked my brain on how I could help him. Casting my mind back to the movies I had watched over the years, I ripped my t-shirt over my head and pressed it to his wound. At the same time, I was kicking the cellar door hard with my legs. I kicked it until I ached, my sobs starting to echo around me. The gunshots were so loud and my kicking the door in would have been heard from the other side. There was no damn way they couldn’t have heard all that noise.

“God, please...” I sobbed, begging for someone to help.

I kept applying pressure on Brandon’s gunshot wound, not knowing if I was doing him any good or not but I had to try and do something. “Stay with me, Brandon.” But when the blood began coating my hands, I panicked.

Just as I was about to kick the door again, it was flung open so hard it jolted me almost to the next step.

“FUCK!” I’m not even sure how I heard Zane scream over my hysterical sobbing, but he was immediately by my side. He pulled off his polo shirt and put it on top of my hand. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart; just don’t fucking move. Keep your hand there. You’ve done the right thing.”

He bent down to check Brandon, and Zane spoke to him but Brandon didn’t answer. Instead, he coughed and a massive amount of blood poured out of his mouth. I tried to move but found myself slipping in a pool of Brandon’s blood. I called Zane’s name but I wasn’t sure if he actually heard me. I tried to speak to Zane, but he was looking at Jessica and dialling numbers on his phone, screaming orders at someone on the other end of the line. It didn’t take long before Max and Marco came rushing forward. Behind them I heard a frantic Jada screaming, followed closely by a whimpering Milan and Winter. My brothers wasted no time springing into action. I did as Zane instructed and didn’t move from my position, continuing to press the two soaked shirts against Brandon’s stomach. Zane called emergency services, then threw his phone at Max and told him to call the police.

“Marco, take off your jacket and put it over Brandon,” Zane told him. Marco moved as if he was in a trance. He was the only one wearing a jacket, seeing as he had just stepped off a plane from a business trip.

Both my brothers looked at me and their faces held so much pain and grief that I started sobbing again. Oh, God, the look on their faces was one of absolute despair. And I put it there. I sobbed and screamed when an army of police and paramedics rushed in. The paramedics told me to move away from Brandon.

“No, no, no! He needs me. I can’t let him go!” I yelled, refusing to move away from him. If I let him go, I would lose that special connection I’d had with him. He needed me. Max and Marco finally had to drag me away from Brandon. I had no idea what happened to Jessica. I didn’t care.

Max ushered everyone else back out and stayed with Jada, Milan and Winter while I collapsed into Zane’s waiting arms. He held me tightly as I let out a scream of pure agony. Marco rode with Brandon in one of the ambulances, and Zane asked the paramedics to check me over from any possible injuries. While they were doing that, I observed everyone around me, taking in everyone’s grief-stricken faces. I heard Zane give a statement to the police and ask if I could give mine to them later due to the trauma I had been through. But I wanted to talk. I wanted to tell them my story. I just couldn’t speak. As Max was talking to the cops, Jada came to stand next to Zane and me as he continued to hold and rock me, whispering soothing words in my ear.

Everything else was a blur.

ZANE

W
e were all at the hospital when Mia gave her statement to the police. It had been almost four hours since the shooting. Marco contacted Brandon’s family and they had all filed in, waiting anxiously for some news. Jessica had survived; much to my horror, she only had a few minor wounds and a concussion. I never realised how sick she was or how obsessed she had become with breaking up Mia and me. It soon became clear she had been stalking Mia for weeks. When the police went to her house, she had pictures of us everywhere, both together and separately. The only difference was Mia’s pictures had most of her facial features cut out and mine had hearts and kisses all over them.

When I found out how sick Jessica was, I was disgusted with myself for not realising Mia was in such grave danger. I was a cop, for fuck’s sake; how could I not have seen the signs? I hadn’t been off the force that long not to realise the signs. I didn’t give a fuck where she ended up as long as it was as far away from us as possible. I hoped to God she rotted in a psychiatric ward or a jail cell where her life would be nothing but a living Hell on Earth.

Another hour passed before the doctor finally came out to talk to Brandon’s parents. The doctor’s face showed no emotion whatsoever when he addressed the waiting room, asking for Brandon’s next of kin. Brandon’s parents walked over to the doctor and they all spoke in hushed tones. I felt a pang in my chest when I heard his mother sob, her body shaking. His father was shaking his head from side to side; his body language said it all. I looked over at Marco and Max as the realisation of what the doctor had just told the family sunk in. Brandon’s mother let out a noise so painful it almost split my heart into two separate halves. I slid Mia off my lap as I stood and walked over to the doctor, overhearing his last sentence.

“I’m very sorry...we did everything we possibly could but there was just too much internal damage. We lost him.”

His mother went hysterical and cried into her husband’s shoulders. I look over at Mia and met her eyes. Her tears were coming fast and fierce, but she gave me a weak smile to prove to me that she was strong and would get through it. There wasn’t a single dry eye in the room. Brandon was a special friend to Mia and I had resented that fact. Neither one of us were able to disguise our pain, knowing that Brandon didn’t make it. He died saving my angel, the woman I loved.

Brandon died a hero.

***

MIA

T
he funeral service was one of the most emotional things I had ever experienced. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't do anything but stand helplessly and witness Brandon’s parents spiralling into debilitating grief. Dammit to Hell. I wanted to punch someone. Kick something. Hurt myself so the pain on the outside matched the pain I was feeling on the inside.