“Lies,” she mumbles again as if in disbelief. “All you do is lie.”
“It’s not a lie. I’m trying to protect you. Did someone touch you? Hurt you while you were here? No, because I told them I would kill anyone who put their hands on you. I love you, and you heard it out of his own mouth, he doesn’t care about you. All he cares about is answers.”
A small wave of relief washes over me as I listen to him, and I take in Amara. I can see the doubt in Amara’s features, which means he is telling the truth, at least to some degree. No one touched her while she has been captive. She might be dirty and upset, but at least no one broke her, no one raped or beat her.
Amara looks conflicted. I know she is trying to figure out who to believe, and I can’t blame her. She has every right to be wary of both of us.
My gaze is ping-ponging between John and Amara’s tearful face when I catch the smirk on his face. He wants to use her against me. He wants to hurt me even more than he already has.
Still, I wonder if there is the slightest truth in his words. Did he really protect her from his men? Is there a small part of him that does care about her?
More importantly, can I use that against him?
I have to take the chance, even if I’m going to regret this later. Turning around fast, I reach out, gripping Amara by the arm. She trips, coming out of her trance as I pull her body in front of mine. I place the barrel of the gun at her temple and wait for him to say something.
I can practically hear Amara’s heart beating out of her chest, her blood rushing through her veins. Does she think I would actually shoot her?
Looking past her shoulder, I catch sight of John with a huge smile on his face.
“You actually expect me to believe you would kill her? I know how you treated her while she was staying with you. You barely laid a hand on her. Now you’re threatening me with this?”
Fuck. Sweat forms on my brow. He is calling my bluff.
“I do,” I say, keeping my emotions hidden from my face. Pulling the gun away from Amara’s head, I slip it into the back of my pants, and I swear I can hear her sigh with relief. Little does she know, things are about to get ten times crazier. I just hope she will be able to hang on a little longer.
Pulling my knife from my belt, I get a good grip on it. I watch John’s eyes grow bigger than ever as I put the blade to her throat.
“Enzo, you don’t have to do this,” she whimpers. She is scared, and she has a reason to be. If her father doesn’t cooperate, I’ll have to hurt her.
“Now, tell me what it is I want to know,” I growl, ignoring Amara shaking in my hold. I have to do this.
“You won’t…” John jokes with a laugh stuck in his throat.
“I will,” I snarl as I grip the knife tighter and push it softly into Amara’s creamy white skin.
I can feel her pulse jumping underneath my fingers, smell her fear, and I have no way of telling her it will be okay.
“Kill her then.”
“Okay.” I shrug my shoulders and push the knife into her skin harder—praying to fucking God he is goading me.
Her small hand reaches up to push my hand away, but instead of stopping, I press the knife further into her skin. Until I can feel a small trickle of blood escaping down her neck.
“Stop!” she cries out. Her breaths turn into pants, and I hold my own until my lungs burn as she tries to wiggle out of my hold.
“Okay… Okay…” John finally pleads. Immediately, I pull the blade away and turn Amara around in my hold. My eyes skim over the cut before I turn my full attention back to John. I don’t dare look into her eyes right now, I’m not ready for what I know I’m going to see. That’s something to deal with later.
“Are we on the same page now, or do I need to do something else? When I said I took her as a form of payment, I meant I was taking her pussy to fuck it until it was useless. I didn’t say I was going to grow attached to it. I definitely didn’t say I would keep her the fuck alive.” The words coming from my mouth make me cringe on the inside, so I can’t imagine what is going through Amara’s mind.
“Killing her won’t get you the answers you want.”
“Maybe not, but killing her will make you see what it’s like to lose your last living relative. It will make you suffer the way you made me suffer.”
Releasing my hold on Amara, I push her away and swiftly pull out my gun again. I watch as she sinks to the floor while I move my gun to point it at her yet again. I only dare to glance at her face briefly, exhaustion and shock evident in her features. Come on. Stay with me, Amara.
“What do you want to know?” John asks, taking a seat again. His eyes drift to the door, and I wonder if he is expecting someone to come. If so, I have to speed this whole thing up.
The gun in my hand feels heavy as guilt presses down hard on my chest.
“I think we both know the answer to that question. I want answers, I want to know who ordered you to kill my mother, and I don’t want to go in a fucking circle trying to get them.” My voice turns animalistic as my gaze bleeds into John’s. I can see the beads of sweat forming on his face even from across the room.
That’s right, fucker. I have your one and only weakness in my grasp.
“Dad, just tell him you didn’t do it.” Amara’s voice croaks as she speaks. John’s gaze slips from mine to hers.
“Things are about to get really fucking bloody if you don’t tell me what I want to fucking know.”
His meaty hand rubs over his bald head and then down his face as worry forms in his eyes.
“I killed your mom. My partner and I were working for the FBI at the time, and I killed her. It’s not like we fucking wanted to. We were just following orders.” His words seem far away. Like they are coming from a different room. Slowly, what he says reaches my mind, trickling in like water drops from a leaky faucet.
“You didn’t want to?” I echo his words, my voice shaking at the end with raw anger surging through me.
“Your father’s organization had killed tons of our men. Our job was to go in and snuff you out. We needed to put an end to the family and after your father died was the perfect time to strike. You and your mother were the last loose strings in the mix of things. You know what they say about loose…”
“A loose string? A loose string to what? A woman and a child,” I scream. My voice morphs into something I don’t recognize, and the next moment, I lunge for him.
His gun goes off, but I don’t feel any pain. I’m not sure if he misses or if I’m simply so consumed by rage that I’m numb. I slap the gun from his hand and watch it fly across the living room, leaving him helpless and at my mercy.
This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. I shouldn’t feel so conflicted about this.
Turning his face up to me, he smiles. It’s in his smile that I lose all uncertainty about killing him and find the need to finish the job. He deserves to die—a death for a death.
Suddenly, everything moves in slow motion. I can hear Amara’s screams as I lift the gun, placing the barrel against his forehead.
I pull the trigger.
No remorse shatters within me, not even as I watch his brains splatter on the floor behind him. Not as I watch his eyes go blank, and his chest stop moving. Not even as realization sets in that I just killed the father of the woman I love… in front of her.