Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
He marches me through the house that was supposed to be my safe place, my home. Oh god. I squeal when I walk into the kitchen and see Wesley’s girlfriend dead on the ground, her body already decomposing. The air looks odd, like there’s a mist filling the room.
Gas.
Pushing me away from him, he goes to the back door, opening it wide.
“Milo, where have you been?”
“Around.”
“Why did you do that to her?” I cover my mouth, trying to avoid breathing in the rancid smell of rotting flesh.
“That’s a funny story. Well, it depends whose point of view you see it through. I was going to use animal bones, but this dumb bitch happened to run into me. It was fate.”
“I don’t understand,” I sob.
“I couldn’t have her telling anyone she saw me, so I killed her, and now she fits into my plan for us.”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
I look to the oven, hoping to turn the gas knobs off, but they’re not on.
Milo tuts, waiting waving his knife at me. “You can’t stop this, Willa. I sliced the pipe. It will look like an accident.”
“Why?”
“Because that bastard fucking stole you from me, and now I’m doing the same to him.”
“I’m pregnant, Milo—are you willing to kill us both?”
He rushes over to me, cupping my face. “No. God no. That’s why she’s here. She is you.” He kisses my forehead and grabs my wrist, dragging me to the back door. “Run,” he shouts, going back inside for a split second. I remain frozen in place. He comes back out and grabs my arm, pulling me into the tree line bordering the grounds. Just as we hit brush, an ear-hurting explosion sends us toppling over.
I cradle my baby bump, a pain shooting up my spine.
Terror and anger rage war inside my head. I’m moving, my limbs scurry until I’m straddling a stunned Milo, slapping down on him in hysterics. “You bastard! I hate you! I hate you!” I pummel against him. A sharp pain cracks into my cheekbone, sending me sideways. Another hits my jaw, then a hand wraps around my throat, squeezing so hard, my blood vessels in my eyes burst. I beg with gargled gasps, making no sense. This is it. I’m going to die out here with my baby inside me. Air suddenly rushes into my gullet, scaldinglike a hot poker being shoved into my neck.
“You and I belong together. We’re all we have, and he tried to change that. Willa, if you try to run back to him, I’ll kill him. I’ll kill that punk-ass best friend of his, the sisters he loves so much. I’ll blow up that club with everyone inside just like I did his house. Then I’ll kill your kid and keep you alive to feel every last drop of pain and guilt.”
“Why do you hate me?” I howl.
“I don’t.” He dabs at my bleeding lip with his jacket. “I love you. I thought you escaped that Royal Bastard piece of shit. You disappeared for months, I had no clue where you were, and then you came back—to him.”
He’s talking about the months I was with our mother. I swallow down her name on my tongue. If he doesn’t know she exists. he can’t infect her life like he has mine. “We’ll raise this baby together. When he’s grown, I’ll teach him to come and kill his real daddy.”
“No,” I choke out. “No, I’ll come with you, Milo. But on the one condition: you never hurt Gabe—never even look his direction again,” I beg, the cold, empty reality of what my life is to become settling in my bones.
“If I promise that, so do you. If you ever seek him out, even bump into him on the street by accident, I’ll kill your kid and send him the pieces.”
Sirens blare in the distance.
“I promise,” I say, sealing my fate.
Thirty-Nine
Gabe
PRESENT…
Jameson crumbles to the floor with a grunt, blood blooming from a bullet hole in his back. I reach for my weapon. I should have known.
I want to call out to Jameson, but drawing attention to the fact that he’s still breathing might end badly for us. Milo’s gun is pointed at Willa, mine at him, leaving us in a standoff. My head spins. Nothing was real. Everything was a set-up.
“I told you I’d find you,” Milo taunts Willa.
“I didn’t seek him out, Milo. He found me. It was…”
Waving his gun like the crazy fuck he is, Milo holds his hand up to stop her from talking. “You came here. It’s hours from him. You wanted to be found.”
“No,” she sobs. “I had no choice, no money. Mr. Right helped me out, let me use this place.”
Mr. Right? That fucking pervert from when she was a kid?
“I was inside five months, Willa. you could have stayed put and waited for me, but you decided to run.” How the fuck did he end up in prison and we didn’t find out about it?