“Son of a bitch, what is it about this woman? You’ve had your orders. I’m done waiting. Get rid of her.”
Get rid of her?
“It’s not that simple.”
“No, what’s simple is you. You’ve let a woman get in your head and forgot the rules, Luis. There are only two things that tempt men like us—drugs and women. Forming an addiction to either one is suicide.”
“You think I’m stupid? This will be traced back to me and—”
Furniture skidded across the bare floor, muffling the rest of his words. A painful grunt quickly followed another crack, and I bit my tongue to keep quiet.
“Either you do it, or I will. I promise you, my way won’t be nearly as pleasant for her. Am I understood?”
A sick need to see the man who craved my suffering forced me to move. Inch by inch, I shuffled toward the kitchen, my heart slamming against my chest. Rolling my cheek against the wall, I braced myself to face my monster, but all that greeted me was a shadowy figure in a black hoodie with the sleeves pushed up.
Until he shifted, and a sliver of moonlight shined on his arm.
A grotesque skull tattoo, with the bottom half of the jaw missing, covered his left forearm. Wilted roses lined either side of the cheekbones and what was left of the teeth bit an hourglass.
I looked away and covered my mouth to stop from screaming.
“Fine,” Luis yelled so loudly I flipped around and slammed my back against the wall to avoid being seen. “I’m seeing her tomorrow. I’ll finish this, and then I’m out.”
“Muy bien.” Calming down, the man gave Luis a low chuckle. “And Luis, remember, I know everything you do.”
I stood paralyzed as their heavy steps crossed outside the patio. It wasn’t until the sliding glass door slammed that I released the breath I’d been holding.
Police. I need the police.
Just as I slid away from the wall, the glass door flew back open, and Luis paced again while punching numbers into his phone.
“I’m out of time. I need it now.” His hands pulled at his hair, outrage burning in his voice. “Fuck the plan, Hector. I have a new one. I’m getting her tonight.”
My head swam. Crouched in the corner, I was a sitting duck. My only option was to wait until his back was turned and run. Blinking back tears, I waited until Luis turned toward the glass door again. Only a few feet separated me from freedom, and as he stepped over the threshold, I ran toward it.
“Leighton? What the fuck?” Rushing toward me, he grabbed both wrists and jerked me against him. It happened so fast, I didn’t have time to scream. “How long have you been listening?” His ragged breath fanned my cheek harsh and heavy, as if an indecisive war raged inside him.
“Let me go; you’re hurting me.”
“How long, Leighton?”
His agitation fueled mine, pushing me to challenge him. “What are you involved in, Luis?”
“Damn it!” he roared, dragging me deeper into the apartment. “You weren’t supposed to be here tonight. I had this all handled.”
“Why? What are you planning to do to me?”
“We have to get out of here.” Releasing one of my wrists, he pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans.
Shit.
“Oh my God, where did you get that?”
“Don’t be so naïve,” he hissed, rolling his eyes. “Do you think this is a game?”
I knew the minute I turned my back on him, it would be over. He’d either put a bullet in the back of my head or shove me in the trunk of his car.
“Don’t make me go to the police,” I warned, tilting my chin up in defiance.
He growled low in his throat, his inked arm lifting mine above my head. “Don’t make me stop you.”
He wanted a fight, but he wouldn’t be the first man. I knew how this conversation went. I could recite it by heart. Same entrance, same lines, and from what I could smell, the same half bottle of Jack Daniels on his breath.
“Look, all I came here to do was break up with you. I didn’t see anything. Just let me go, and we’ll pretend this didn’t happen.”
“Oh, you think it’s that simple?” He smiled. “I’m the only one standing in the way of your worst nightmare. Leighton, listen to me—”
I cut him off with a bloodcurdling scream. Shocked, he lunged forward and cupped his hand over my mouth. The impact knocked us both off balance, slamming my head into the wall. As a sharp pain throbbed in my skull, the kitchen light cast a faint glow on his face, and in my haze, years faded away. Whiskey no longer swam in his eyes. It was the devil himself.
That was the moment my conscience abandoned me. Blood rushed through my veins and filled my ears as I grasped for the gun. We struggled, his aggression spurring me on. Curses flew from both our mouths as we tangled, his much larger body spinning me around while trying to wrestle me to the floor.
I will not die here.
“Fucking let go, Leighton!”
He stumbled. I stumbled. He shoved. I shoved. We moved in perfect sync, dancing a deadly tango. Only this dance would end with a bullet in between my lips instead of a rose. However, Luis underestimated me. He wasn’t the first monster I’d fought, and he wasn’t the first devil I’d outrun.
The minute his ankles hit the coffee table, time stopped. I watched his legs fly out from under him, crashing through the glass and taking me with him. Our chests slammed together with our hands tangled around the trigger.
I screamed just as the gun went off and waited for the pain. When it didn’t come, I rolled off Luis and scanned the front of my sweatshirt. It was soaked—saturated with deep crimson red, but it was perfectly intact. It didn’t make sense.
Then Luis coughed, and I forced myself to climb onto my knees and face it. The right side of his stomach bloomed dark red over his white T-shirt, and his eyes fixated on my hands. They spoke louder than any words ever could.
Look what you did.
Look at yourself.
So, I did. They were sticky and warm, the tips dripping like a faucet, while still holding the gun.
“No!” All I heard was the roar of my own voice as I dropped the weapon and jerked Luis’s shirt up.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
I swallowed back vomit while pressing both hands against his stomach. Pressure was good. Pressure would stop the bleeding. But it didn’t. Liquid oozed between my fingers, and the harder I pressed, the faster it seeped.
“Luis!” I screamed, lowering my face to his in a panic. “I didn’t mean it!”
His response was a gurgle. Maybe it was my name. Maybe it was a plea for help, or maybe it was him cursing me to hell. It didn’t matter. If he died, I had a secured reservation. With one last cough, his eyes glazed over, and he never moved again. I felt numb, staring blankly at him as the reality of what I’d done set in.
A strangled sob spilled out as I crawled in a daze toward my purse. It took four tries to pull out my phone and dial the number I knew by heart.
“Lil’ Bit? It’s late. Are you okay?” My brother sounded sleepy. Part of me immediately regretted calling him, so I said nothing. I couldn’t. Once I spoke the words, they were real.
“Leighton?” he repeated, this time sharper and more alert. “Leighton, answer me.”