Chonk’s ear is laying in a puddle of bloody snow adjacent to the SUV. The doors of the vehicle are unlocked and no one is inside. I have to shut off my emotions if I’m going to be able to do any damage against God knows what I’m up against. At worst, it’s going to be Rufio and his boss, at best, just a solitary man obsessed with Maeve. I can reason with a man on fire and in love. I can’t reason with a fucking kingpin. I aim my weapon up the staircase and press my back against the wall.
Listening, I hear a man with an Italian accent. “Where’s Ramona,” he asks. “Who are these people?”
Maeve says his name once, it’s strained. Stavros.
That motherfucker. Goddamn the philandering rake and his timing. At least he’s letting me know there’s more than just Rufio up there.
“Ramona isn’t here,” Maeve says. “Just let him go,” she adds, trying to bargain with the cartel. “He has nothing to do with this.”
I take a few more steps up. Only two more and I’ll be able to see into the living area where they’re at, and I’ll be better able to discern what needs to happen.
“Don’t you realize they’re mine? They’ve always been mine. What makes you think you can just take them from me?”
Rena. Rena. Rena. The voice I’d recognize anywhere. So much for keeping my fucking cool. My pulse throbs in my ears, in my neck, in my eyes. Her presence changes little with regard to outcome, but a lot when it comes to how I handle this situation.
“I didn’t take anything from you,” Maeve’s voice snaps me back to reality.
“You’re going with Rufio today and you’re never going to see them again,” Rena says, tone terse.
I hear a gun cock and adrenaline hits in spades as I slide up two more stairs and pray that Maeve doesn’t give me away by looking down. That’s when the scene unfolds in front of me like a horror movie. Maeve is covered from hand to shoulder in Chonk’s blood. He’s laying by her feet in a dark red puddle. I know she knows I’m here because her stance changes, but she doesn’t move her eyes in my direction. Thank God. Her breathing is erratic, but she looks unharmed. It’s only when I know she’s okay that I let my gaze seek out Rena and Rufio. Their backs are to me. Lucky day.
“Maeve, where the hell is Ramona?” Stavros says. He’s sitting on the sofa not knowing what the fuck he walked in on. “Is she okay? What kind of trouble are you guys in? I tried calling her but she wouldn’t tell me anything and I got the impression she needed help.”
Maeve is calm. She’s collected. “Ramona is fine. She’s at her studio.”
Lie. Lie. She must be with Turner, and I’ve never been more thankful that Maeve’s harebrained friend was here to keep Turner away from what’s unfolding.
“We’re not in any kind of trouble. No one needs help.” She has her palms facing away because Rufio is waggling a gun around like a limp dick. Rena’s frail body sways left and right, and I know she’s using—can tell just by looking at her back. “These people have me confused with someone else. That’s all.”
Stavros scoffs in that Italian, disgusted way. “Why does he have a gun if he’s confusing you with someone else.”
“I am not mistaking you for someone else. You are the reason I don’t have a family to come back to. You stole my life.”
Maeve shakes her head and for the first time, she lets her gaze light on me for half a second as her head turns. No one noticed, but I saw her desperate plea for help in that millisecond. “I didn’t steal anything. It’s all yours, Rena. All of it. Lincoln doesn’t love me like he loves you.”
“No,” Rena hisses. “He loves you more. I saw it all. I saw the moment he fell in love with you. The look in his eye. The things he said while he was fucking you. It was never going to end any other way after I knew that he loved you more than he loved me. I was his forever. Don’t you get that? He made me a promise, you understand? I won’t let him break it.”
I break out in a cold sweat. The door is still open, blowing snow and ice up the stairs, but I’m hot. I know what I have to do, and it might be harder than shooting this bitch dead.
Closing my eyes, I lower my gun. “Stop this, Rena.”
She spins at the same time Rufio does, except he has a gun aimed at my chest. Rena snatches the gun from his hand, and clocks him with it. He falls to the ground. Good. She cares if my life is in danger. “Abraham Lincoln,” she whispers, eyes going round with emotion. Her pupils
