Any hint of enjoyment at relaying this fascinating history disappears at that topic. “It didn’t occur to me that I was the target of all these little crime sprees of yours until around the fourth one. By then, all my clients were…understandably worried and upset. Kudos to you, son, for managing to get under my skin.”
Once upon a time, such a confession would have given me the satisfaction I crave. Right now, I don’t give a shit.
“Where is my mother’s body?”
His brow rises as though the answer should be obvious. “Oh that part was no lie. Well, maybe the airplane bit. But it was easy enough for me to get rid of one of my smaller personal propeller planes for the sake of a cover-up. And of course an unfortunate pilot. Your mother is most definitely somewhere at the bottom of the Atlantic. Good luck finding her.”
I want to scream and yell and tear this entire room apart, after ripping the man apart limb to limb.
“Although,” he says, bringing the gun back to face me. “You will soon be lucky enough to join her. Any last words…son?”
A ghost of a smile touches my lips. “Not a one…pater familias.”
Chapter Fifty-Six Leira
I’ve been so wrapped up in Richard’s confession that when the lights go out, I don’t even notice at first. In fact, I’m so mentally startled, I thought for sure it was the sound of the gunshot going off, which I was expecting.
“No!” I scream in the darkness.
The darkness beyond the semi-closed blinds don’t even leave a hint of light, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.
“Leira!” Enrique calls out in the darkness, which is still blinding. Why the hell is he giving Richard a target to aim at in the dark by speaking?
That’s when a shot does ring out. The sound of Enrique’s grunt of pain has me silently screaming into the nothingness.
No!
The shots continue, going wild, and I fall to the floor to avoid getting hit as well. They ring in my ear, but I’m almost certain I hear the sound of a door locking? As I crawl away from where Richard was behind the desk, the sharp thuds of his men trying to get in confirm it.
Enrique is still alive?
I stop in my tracks to force my ears to listen. The sound of a struggle behind the desk lifts my hopes. I stupidly crawl back, if only to help.
Love makes us do crazy things.
By the time I reach the desk, I have enough visibility to see what’s going on. Enrique and Richard are struggling for the gun in his hands. Enrique manages to slam his hand against the desk hard enough for it to drop to the floor.
Unfortunately, that’s when Enrique seems to sag with pain and exhaustion. He must have been hit with that first shot.
I gasp when Richard takes advantage of his weakness and pushes him up. A sinister laugh escapes his lips as he forces the incapacitated Enrique across the room. I know what’s coming.
I pick up the gun and stand up, coming in close enough to hit the right target. Just as Richard tries to force Enrique’s head down onto the large spoke on top of the globe, I fire.
The sound of it, now that the gun is in my own hands is deafening and I feel the vibration through my arms down to the bone. Or maybe that’s just the numb feeling that follows the shock of actually firing it.
Killing Richard.
Both Enrique and his biological father fall to the floor. At least the former is still breathing. I drop the gun and rush over to him.
“Is it bad? Where are you hit?” I cry out.
“I’m fine. It just fucking hurts,” he hisses, cradling his left arm.
The thuds on the other side of the door are more insistent, and I hear the first cracks, warning us that and intrusion is forthcoming.
“Get the gun. We need to hide behind the couch,” he says.
I don’t waste time before scrambling for the gun and heading back to meet him behind the couch, where he’s slowly managed to drag himself.
“Stay behind me, Leira. I won’t let you get hurt,” he says as I hand him the gun. Before taking it, he reaches his good hand out to cup my face. “Whatever happens, I want to make sure I say this. Te amo.”
He seals those words with a harsh kiss. Suddenly the madness stops and a perfect moment of bliss erupts inside of me, filling every inch of my body with serenity. But like the eye of a storm, it soon passes.
The doors burst open almost instantly. We pull apart, and I wince and curl into a ball, certain that this is how it ends for us.
“Trust me, Leira,” Enrique whispers before pushing me behind him with a hiss of pain.
“Your boss is dead!” He calls out. “Right now, you have a choice. The two of us in here will cover for you when the shit inevitably hits the fan. You didn’t know anything about what was going on here or what your boss was up to. Each of you can also walk away from this five million dollars richer.”
My heart is still pounding in my ears, and my brain is practically mush, but even I can appreciate the wisdom in what Enrique is doing. These men are, at best, a professional security team, at worst, hired goons who simply look the other way. Either way, that carrot and stick has to be a tempting offer.
Which is probably the only thing keeping them from
