“I kept telling myself to give you more time, mami. For too long, I’ve granted you all the patience in the world.”
“Okay,” I stutter, eyes flicking to the bathroom where Roslyn is hacking into the toilet. His malevolent eyes follow. “Let’s talk, Dom.”
“Who is that?”
“Nobo—”
“Are you seeing someone else?” He grabs my shoulder as if he can shake the answer out of me.
“It’s Roslyn, my best friend. Can we talk in my art room, please?” I ask firmly, considering how I need to get him away from my pregnant friend. My gander flickers toward the knife in his other hand. “You mean so much to me. Let’s work things out. I appreciate your patience. Dom, I love you.”
“You’ve tossed that phrase around too many times, LeAnna. To me, to him.”
“What do you mean?” I inquire, gesturing for the door, but he stops to glare at me. Do I keep him talking? How do I put distance between my friend and us? Fear clings to me, making it hard to listen. I find myself drowning when Roslyn grips my hand, pulling me to her.
A million tiny particles of guilt gnaw at me. I had spazzed out in the time it had taken her to enter.
I look up at Dominic and try to remove Roslyn from my grip.
“Oye, what are you doing, Aria?” she whispers. “He’s got a knife.”
Fixating my eyes on him, I pry Roslyn’s fingers off my arm. Dominic’s words wrap around my brain: “You’ve tossed that phrase around too many times, LeAnna. To me, to him.”
To me. To him.
With Roslyn trembling at my side, I manage to free myself from her hold.
“No, Aria.”
“Let me go, Ros.” I gasp, in a trance, never removing my eyes from his. “You’re not Dominic.”
His head tracks side to side. It’s the creepiest gesture I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
“Aria, shuddup.” She wraps her arms around me. As he advances on us, the knife glides into Ros’ shoulder. My friend screeches as his hand comes down again. I block his attempt to stab Roslyn. The strength of his palm against my chest sends me flying. My temple bounces off the wall. The second plunge misses the side of Roslyn’s neck as she drops to the ground.
“Dario!” I shout the name of the cruel one.
The dripping wet blade stalls, midair.
“Dario.” I gasp. Oh, God! How is this happening? I propel myself to speak. “You love me. You wouldn’t hurt my best friend, would you?”
“Ar-Aria.” Roslyn shutters, clasping her bloody shoulder.
Inhuman, quiet, he turns all his attention on me. Blood drips off his knife. The history Roslyn and I share becomes an outlet of understanding as my eyes lock onto her. The once-popular girl chose me for her team in physical education. Hand signals were the reason I didn’t totally suck. I issue the one, warning her to run.
“I’m not leaving you.” She mouths, clamoring off the ground.
Dario extends a hand to me, just as Roslyn yanks the lamp from the wall. His knife sails into the same spot. He starts to stab her again.
He lifts his arm again, and I cling to him. “Please, please, pa-papi, please.” I hold tightly to him.
“She wants to keep you from me. They do! Her. Dominic!”
“Fuck everyone, Dario. You’ve always put me first.” Bile creeps up my throat, ready to spew out with the lies.
Images flicker in my mind of us. Intimate memories I was never aware of because he’d claimed to be my Dominic. I toss the chess piece on the table. “We’re pregnant, Dario. Like I said, we have to put each other first for the sake of our baby. Screw anyone else.”
Tensing up, I calm his nerves as my fingers skim across his face. Earlier, my heart had been blown to smithereens by Dominic’s antics. It occurs to me how his manipulative brother deceived me. But for how long?
Looking at him with the same adulation I would Dominic, I say again, “I’m pregnant. The test is in the bathroom.” Go check, bastard.
Once Dario finds Roslyn’s test in the bathroom, under the guise that it’s mine, I wonder how quickly I can get her up to escape.
Dario takes a few steps toward my bathroom. I signal for Roslyn. Her entire body freezes in doubt. I signal again how she will need to run on my count.
In a swift move, he’s spun around and gripped Roslyn by the back of the neck. “Go fetch, puta.”
Her fresh, bloody handprint coats the limestone as she attempts to stand.
“Let’s go,” I beg him. “Me and you. Now, please.”
Gorgeous eyes narrowed into slits, Dario declares, “I don’t trust you anymore, LeAnna. You’ll have to rectify that. Starting now.”
I nod, mustering sympathy. Going crazy now is bad timing, I warn myself. Separate yourself from Ros first. She’s pregnant. Oh, God, her survival is in my hands.
Gain his trust, second.
Last, strike.
“Toss it here!” Dario snarls.
“Here you go, bitch!” Roslyn throws with her non-dominant hand, falling against the doorframe. The entire front of her shirt is steeped in blood.
He catches the test, glances at it, and then at me. A gleam crosses his face; shoulders broaden in pride.
“Aria?” someone calls out to me. Dario faces the hallway. With the flick of his wrist, the knife launches out of his fingers.
Chapter Seventy-Four
Dominic
“Aria?” Bass backs the hardness of my tone. An eerie placidity follows as I start down the hallway of Aria’s apartment. “Aria!” I call out again, my vision modifying to the darkness.
Warning signs pop off as I notice bare feet inside Aria’s bedroom. Speechless, I fall to my knees, pulling her stiff body to me. I run my hands through the hair. It’s too light to be Aria. I lay the body aside and stand.
It’s Miranda. I’d avoided her as much as humanly possible when coming and going.
“Aria?” I grit out. Don’t be too late, I tell myself.
“Helppppp,” another feminine voice croaks, closer to the bathroom. I call for an ambulance, careful not to compromise the crime scene while heading over.
Roslyn is leaning against the wall, clutching her shoulder.
Snatching a towel from the rack, I apply pressure to her wound. “Where’s Aria?”
“She—fuck!” Roslyn grits her teeth. “He took her. He took my sister.”
“Where is she? Who did this? The police are on the way.”
“Dar-Dar—”
“Dario?” The revelation is almost enough to land me on my ass. Dr. Anderson had mentioned Dario was impulsive and manipulative during his appointments. He’d suggested further evaluation when Dario decided that he didn’t care to walk again.
The cabrón is walking.
He has Aria. I’m done putting familia over everything. I’m going to fucking kill him.
Chapter Seventy-Five
El Santo
Faded color bleeds across the horizon. Gripping the steering wheel of my Honda, I drive fast. LeAnna’s having my baby.
“What if it’s Dominic’s?” I blurt, turning an observant gaze on her while hustling past buildings.