What do I do?I have to protect the baby, but I can’t leave him here. refuse. I love him too much to do that. I know what I <b>have </b><b>to </b>do, even if I don’t believe I have the strength to do it. I’m tired of running. Tired of crying and being afraid. None of those things will end this.


    The bulge above Gianni’s ankle catches my attention, and I pull up his pant leg to find a knife strapped there, “What are you doing?” he demands when I pull it free.


    What am I doing? Maybe the stupidest thing possible, but Donovan won’t take anything else from me.


    “Fine,” I yell, and adjust my hold on the knife, my mmy palm making it problematic to get a good grip. I hide it at my side, hoping to use the element of surprise to my advantage. “I’lle ut. Just please, don’t hurt Gianni. Promise me.”


    “I promise.” He can’t even be bothered to sound serious. “He’ll be fine. Juste with me, and all of this will end.”


    You can do this. You’re strong.


    I suck a shaky breath into my lungs. “Okay.”


    Gianni reaches for me, however it’s a failed attempt at stopping me when I gently but firmly push his hand away from my leg. There is a very good chance this could end badly, but it’s my only hope. I’ve never fired a gun in my life, and I wouldn’t trust myself to do it now, but a knife? That’s a different story.


    With the knife hidden behind my back, I step around the corner. No going back now. Donovan is only a few feet away, and when he spots me, he lowers his gun. “See? Things are so much easier when we work together as a team.”


    “Please… don’t hurt him.” I take a small, tentative step toward him. I have to y the damsel in distress. Let him see my fear, and weakness.


    “If I kill him, we get nothing. You’re what we want.” With the agility of a snake, he strikes, his hand wrapping around my forearm and pulling me close.


    Close enough for me to sink the knife deep into his stomach, which is precisely what I do. Without blinking or thinking too much about it, I tighten my hold on the butt of the knife and put every ounce of pain and anger into thrusting the knife right into the soft flesh of his stomach.


    At first, he doesn’t even notice a smile still sitting triumphantly on his face. It doesn’t take long for surprise and shock to cross his features. Most likely finally feeling the pain, he looks down to find the handle of the knife jutting out of him. It’s my turn to smile, and I do so when pulling the knife from his stomach. Just as quickly as the first time, I stab him again, ignoring the blood that seeps onto my hands.


    “What the fuck?” The gun drops to the floor and he stumbles backwards, cing a hand on his stomach. Blood starts to absorb into the fabric of his t–shirt and he looks at it with disbelief. “You… you fucking bitch!!” he growls, and I reach for the gun, picking it up with my bloody–trembling hands.


    I turn it on him and put my finger near the trigger. I’ve never shot a gun before or have even considered killing someone, but I now understand why Gianni did what he did. There was never a time when I wouldn’t do what I needed to protect those I loved.


    “Fuck you,” I whisper through gritted teeth, watching him slide down the wall at his back, his hand wrapped around the knife. ” You take one step towards me and I’ll blow your fucking head off.


    His shirt soaks up the blood like a sponge, a bloody smear following him as he slides down the wall. Running on adrenaline alone, I walk slowly back towards Gianni.


    “You’ll pay for this!!” he snarls, his features twisting in pain. I ignore the threat and slip back around the corner.