“No!” Davis yelled, trying to lurch to his feet. He stumbled and fell back to his knees, his hands scraping against the hard floor, but Joel’s gun whipped back in his direction.
“Uncle Joel,” Leila said, her voice full of fear and disbelief. “Please don’t do this.”
“I’m sorry, Leila,” Joel said, and he actually sounded it as he centered his gun on Davis once again.
“I love him,” Leila burst out.
The gun wavered and Davis shook his head, as if there was water in his ears he needed to shake out in order to hear properly.
She loved him? Was she saying it just to stop her uncle from killing him? Or did she actually mean it?
Either way, his heart started pounding double-time, telling Davis two truths: he loved her, too, and he was probably going to die without ever getting the chance to tell her.
Chapter Twenty-One
The man she loved was about to die. And the man who’d helped raise her was going to kill him.
Leila took a deep breath, took a step closer. She kept her gaze centered on her uncle, not daring to look at Davis right now. She was too afraid of what she’d see. Not just because of the declaration of love she’d blurted, but also because he looked badly hurt. Blood saturated one side of his head, dripping down his neck and onto his T-shirt. He’d been swaying on his knees when she walked in, had almost face-planted when he tried to stand. Even if she could convince her uncle not to kill him—not to kill them both—he might not make it.
“You killed my father,” she whispered, pain in her voice. “How could you do that? He was your only brother, your only real family besides me.”
Her uncle’s jaw quivered, but his gun hand didn’t waver. “I didn’t want to do it, Leila.”
“Your greed was really worth more than my father’s life?” Leila burst out, almost a yell.
“It wasn’t about greed,” her uncle Joel replied, his tone almost apologetic. Almost, but not quite.
“What was it about, then?” Leila demanded, still not daring to look at Davis. Maybe if she could slowly move closer to her uncle, get him to lower his gun—or try to take it from him—maybe she could save them both.
“Power,” he said simply.
“Power? Is that supposed to be any better?”
“No.” His gun lowered slightly, his attention on her instead of Davis.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Davis inch slowly forward on his knees. His chest heaved as he took in deep breaths, obviously in danger of passing out.
“I don’t expect you to understand,” her uncle said. “Your dad wanted to spare you the details of what happened to us as kids, but—”
“I know it was bad,” Leila said softly. Her dad hadn’t shared much of it, but he’d told her enough. Their childhood had been horrific. They’d only been able to rely on each other. Once when she was supposed to have been upstairs in bed, she’d heard her dad confiding to her mom that he was afraid Uncle Joel had locked up his emotions so tight that he’d never be able to feel anything.
But that couldn’t really be true. He’d moved in with them for several years. He’d been there every morning, making her breakfast, walking her to the bus even when she insisted she was old enough to go by herself. Him telling her sternly that she didn’t understand what dangers could be out there, how he’d never let her be hurt the way he’d been hurt.
He loved her. She knew he did.
That certainty bolstered her courage, made her take a big step closer. “Uncle Joel,” she whispered, “I love you, too. Please, you can’t do this.”
“I can’t go to jail,” he whispered back. “Power. Control over my own life. It’s all I ever wanted growing up. I know it sounds crazy, but no amount of money, no safety net, ever feels like enough. I know you don’t approve, but I worked hard for this. I’m not letting him destroy it.”
“You destroyed it,” Leila snapped just as Uncle Joel started to focus on Davis again.
Davis, who was still inching forward, but so slowly he’d never get anywhere near close enough to rush her uncle. It would be a fatal mistake for him to try. He was way too disoriented from whatever her uncle had hit him over the head with.
“You destroyed my father’s company,” she continued, anger rushing back in. “You killed my father. You betrayed all of us. How could you?”
He shook his head, backed slightly away from her, his face shuttering, and Leila knew she was losing him.
“You love me,” she insisted, stepping toward him again, even as she slid one hand inside her purse. “I know you do.”
“Maybe I’m not truly capable of loving anyone,” he said softly, sadly, as he aimed his gun at her again.
But it shook badly and he quickly re-aimed it at Davis. No matter what he said, she was pretty certain he wouldn’t kill her. But she couldn’t say the same about Davis.
“Yes, you are,” she said, her fingers closing around the small pistol she’d carried since being attacked. Her own threat to counterbalance his, a last resort, since she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to actually fire on him. The man who’d help make her who she was, who’d taught her to be strong, made her feel like she mattered when her whole world had been crashing down. “You love me. You protected me. You always did.”
As she said the words, her certainty grew. The fury she felt was still mixed with confusion, disbelief so strong that she knew it hadn’t fully set in that he’d killed her father. It sounded so unreal, even in her own mind. The love she had for him, the man who’d put his whole life on hold for years to make sure she was okay? Even knowing what he’d done, she couldn’t just erase it all.
Yes, he’d stumbled onto an opportunity to make money illegally
