I had to leave you.
I didn’t want to. The moment I saw you lying there, blood pooling under you and streaking your face, struggling to breathe, I wanted to stay with you.
Take you into my arms, give you some kind of comfort as you left this world for whatever lay beyond. At the very least, with all you meant to me, you deserved that much.
Especially since it was my fault in the end.
If I hadn’t told you to take the road…if I had kept you with me…you might be safe right now. Safe…and alive…
In my arms…
But I didn’t. And I know why. Visions of glory, of being the agent who took down the infamous John Dillinger. My name in the papers. A handshake from J.
Edgar in front of news cameras and reporters. I didn’t want to share that with anyone, not even you.
It all seems so petty now, when I have your blood on my hands.
Read the rest via the link in the description!