He Watched Me Die Twice Chapter 09
I just kept floating above them, watching Martha crumple to the pavement.
She crawled over to Jonathan on her hands and knees, desperately clawing at his pant leg.
“Jonah, I made a mistake,” she pleaded. “I made a terrible mistake.
“Please, help me.”
Jonathan slowly looked down at her.
Then, he raised his hand.
He struck Martha across the face with brutal force, knocking her clean backward.
She rolled across the concrete, coughing up blood.
The plaza remained deathly still.
Martha cradled her already swelling cheek, staring up at him in absolute terror.
Jonathan didn’t say a word. He just started walking toward her.
“Stay away from me!” she screamed. “Don’t come any closer!”
She scrambled backward across the pavement.
Jonathan crouched down, grabbed her by the hair, and yanked her face right up to his.
When he finally spoke, his voice was slow, clear, and completely dead inside.
“Martha. Thirteen lives.
“An unborn baby.
“And the woman I loved more than anything in the world.”
He leaned in close.
“Martha,” he whispered, “I’m not going to let you die quickly.”
With that, he shoved her hard.
She went down, her head hitting the steps with a heavy thud.
The crowd in the plaza lost their damn minds.
“Beat her to death! For Brianna!”
“She doesn’t deserve to live! Kill her!”
A guy shoved his way through the police barricade and landed a vicious kick to Martha’s side.
A second later, it was like a dam broke. Hundreds of people surged forward.
They swarmed her, kicking and beating her relentlessly, whatever screams she made completely swallowed by the roar of the mob.
The cops were totally overwhelmed.
Giovani barked out orders, his voice straining. “Secure the area! Hurry! Get in there and pull them off her!”
Dozens of officers waded into the chaos, using sheer brute force to shove the frenzied crowd back.
By the time they reached Martha, she was a battered, bloody mess, barely breathing.
A few cops stepped in, slapped cuffs on her, and hauled her away.
Jonathan didn’t even flinch at the commotion.
He ignored it completely. Once the plaza finally cleared out, only he and Giovani were left standing on the platform.
Giovani walked over, gave his shoulder a heavy pat, and let out a long sigh.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Jonathan.”
Jonathan didn’t say a word.
He just stood there, dead still, staring up at my black-and-white photo on the massive screen.
My death ended up sparking the biggest drug bust in Chicago history.
Jonathan spearheaded the raid himself, sirens wailing through the city all night.
The intel they used was mine — three years of my life had gone into gathering it.
The entire operation went off without a hitch. The police hit every single hideout.
They took Damian alive with almost zero resistance.
He just loudly screamed that he was innocent the whole time they were arresting him.
Exactly a week later, a judge handed down the death penalty for both Damian and Martha, and the executions were carried out immediately.
After watching them die, Jonathan went completely off the grid.
He locked himself in the house we used to share and didn’t touch a thing, leaving it exactly the way it was when I was still alive.
All he did was sit on the couch, looping the video of the public trial over and over.
On the screen, there I was in full police uniform, taking my oath.
Then the footage would hard-cut to Martha putting a bullet in my head.
He watched it until his eyes burned. It brought everything back.
He remembered my clumsy hands patching up his wounds in that alley.
He remembered the deep blush creeping up my face the day he proposed.
And he remembered the way the rain and my tears mixed together the night I struck him with the butt of my rifle on the cargo ship.
It finally clicked for him. He realized that I had loved him right up until the second I died.
He buried his face in his hands, his ragged sobs echoing through the empty room.
He owed me too much.
It was a debt he’d never be able to repay in this lifetime.
A month later, he handed in his resignation.
Giovani threw the paperwork right back in his face, his beard trembling with rage.
“You bastard,” he said. “You’re really quitting?
“Brianna died to keep this city safe, and you’re just walking away?”
Jonathan had lost so much weight that his eyes were sunken hollows.
He shook his head, his voice a hoarse rasp.
“I’m too ashamed to wear this uniform.
“I ruined the reputation of the woman I loved.
“I don’t deserve to protect anyone else.”
Giovani stared at him for a long time before letting out a heavy sigh.
It was obvious — Jonathan had completely lost the will to live.
Jonathan gave him one last salute, turned on his heel, and walked out without looking back.
My spirit followed him.
He drove aimlessly through the city streets.
He visited the spot where we first met, and the alley where we’d made our promises to each other.
Finally, he parked by the river.
The wind coming off the water ruffled his hair, catching the edge of the wedding photo in his hand — the one where we looked so happy.
He flicked a lighter. The flame burned away our faces, reducing the picture to ash that scattered in the breeze.
Tossing the lighter aside, he walked steadily toward the railing.
He stopped at the edge, staring down into the deep, dark water.
I screamed. I hovered around him, frantically trying to grab his arm, but my hands just phased right through him.
He climbed up onto the railing, spread his arms wide, and leaned back.
As he closed his eyes, a soft smile crossed his face.
“Bri, I’m coming to you.”
He plummeted into the river. With a heavy splash, he broke the surface and quickly sank out of sight into the dark water.
My spirit hovered right above the spot where he went under.
I reached down, my fingertips slipping uselessly through the current.
But this time, a figure drifted up from beneath the surface.
It was his soul.
He saw me and paused in surprise for a second before breaking into a warm smile.
He reached out to me.
“Bri.”
Crying, I smiled back and grabbed his hand tight.
This time, his grip felt solid and warm.
“Jonathan.”
In the distance, the morning sun began to crest the horizon.
A new day had begun.