Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
I break into a near sprint until I’m on bended knee in front of her. My hands wrap around hers, nestling them to give any ounce of comfort.
“I actually deluded myself into believing it was over.” Another sniffle followed by a weak-hearted chuckle. “That things were looking up. For me. For us.”
I slide one hand up her arm, resting it gently on her shoulder.
“It will be. Soon.” Leaning forward, I give her a kiss on the cheek. Keeping everything about this soft, delicate, like she’s an ancient antique that could shatter from a strong gust of wind. “No one’s going to hurt you, Gemma, not while I’m around.”
Even if it means I have to set this whole goddamn world ablaze to make it happen.
“But then what?” she asks, glistening eyes pinned to mine.
“Then you and me—and who could forget your mom—are gonna get out of this town. Start our lives somewhere fresh. Maybe Texas, maybe the coast, with a couple of dogs, cats, and any other little critters we might pick up along the way.”
For the first time since we left the restaurant, Gemma smiles. It might not be much, but it means we’re moving in the right direction.
“I like that idea.” She hooks her arms around my shoulders, and we hug.
I hold her for as long as she needs to be held. From the sofa to the bedroom and all through the night until she falls asleep in my arms.
Hours pass with us cocooned together. But while she sleeps and gathers her strength, I lie awake, sharpening my mind. Waiting for the inevitable.
And when it finally comes, in the form of my phone buzzing on the side table, I slip out of Gemma’s arms and out of bed. Collect my mask off the floor and slot it on my face.
“Don Bernal isn’t pleased, Ghost,” Rico says as I bring the phone to my ear. “He asked for you. Better not keep him waiting.”
“I’ll be there.” I kill the call.
I glance back at the bed. At everything I have to lose if this doesn’t go the way I played it out in my head. At my little Gem, stirring back to consciousness.
But I don’t let doubt creep in. There’s no time for it.
Because this ends now.
12
GEMMA
My eyes open to Ghost, tall, masked, and looming in the doorway.
“I won’t be out long,” he says. “This will be over when I get back.”
My wake-up confusion gives way to fear when his words hit my ear. I remember that this isn’t another night in paradise with us happy as can be. Instead, it’s my nightmares becoming a reality.
“Where are you going?” My heart flutters in my chest from the fear creeping in.
“Don’t worry, little Gem. I won’t be far. You won’t have to face anything alone.”
I understand he has to do this. That staying in this bed and holding me isn’t going to get results, but what if something happens while he’s out? Or worse, something happens to him wherever he ends up.
I’ll have no way of knowing. I wouldn’t be able to help.
And I can’t picture a life without him in it.
“I want you to wait in the office. Inside the top drawer, you’ll find a loaded revolver,” Ghost says blankly. Giving instructions like he’s talking to a secretary rather than playing with life and death. “You’re gonna take it out, keep it on your lap, and wait. If someone comes inside and it isn’t me, you’re going to point your gun at the office door. Hold it there until you see any movement.”
With the mask on, it’s his eyes that carry the burden of this instruction. Soft and tortured, they stare down at me. Inspect my features to ensure his message is coming across.
“When you do, you’re going to squeeze the trigger. Again and again until the banging stops. Do you understand?”
“I do.” It’s real now. The terror I felt in the car ride home pales in comparison to this.
No going back and no chance for peace.
“I’ll see you soon, little Gem.” Ghost leaves.
I follow close behind to get to his office and do as he said. Sitting cross-legged in his wingback leather seat, with the cold steel revolver on my lap. Playing his words on repeat as if there’s a chance I might forget what to do.
I don’t have to wait long for a knock to come at the front door. A hopeful part of me wants to believe it’s Ghost. Knocking before entry so I don’t shoot him by accident. But my dreams are dashed when I hear that all-too-familiar voice again.
“Room service.” He’s here, and Ghost isn’t. Here to finish the job he set out to do at the Vasquez residence. “I know you’re in there, so let’s skip the hard parts and get down to business.”
I raise my gun to the door before they’ve even entered. But for a long while after his first attempt at contact, a long silence follows. Waiting for me to come to the door and open up. Give him what he wants without putting up a fight.