Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
My head whipped in her direction as I landed.
And that was when I saw it.
The flash of metal pressed to her forehead.
The look of wide-eyed fear.
My stomach lurched.
“No!” I yelled.
But it was no use.
The finger squeezed the trigger and the bullet lodged in the woman’s head, killing her before her body even slumped to the ground facing me, lids open, eyes blank.
It was the moment that changed the course of my future.
That night, I fought for my life, dragged my bloodied and bruised body home, grabbed my brother, and hopped on a flight back to Navesink Bank.
I could never forget that woman’s face, the sounds of her cries, the way I couldn’t get to her in time.
But I never knew her name.
Never knew her history.
And that shit haunted me.
It was the nightmare that still woke me up in a cold sweat. The memory that crept up on me even in good moments, refusing to be buried.
Maybe it ate at me because I had no one to share it with. It was a night whose details I didn’t even share with my twin. I claimed it was to protect him. But I knew the truth. It was my own shame and guilt that kept me from telling him what I’d seen, how I hadn’t acted quickly enough, hadn’t saved someone innocent caught in an ugly war.
After all this time, she had a name.
Victoria.
Vicky.
“I don’t believe you,” Carmen said, looking up at me from her position on the ground.
Exhaling hard, I lowered myself down to my knees in front of her.
“Look at me,” I demanded, waiting for her gaze to flick up. “I was there, and I saw it. And it’s the worst fucking moment in my life,” I admitted, surprised at how my voice wavered, how my eyes stung. “I was about ten feet away in my own fight for my life. And she was there and the gun was pressed to her head. And…” I trailed off, squeezing my eyes shut against the image, as if it wouldn’t be right there behind my lids. “And I couldn’t get to her in time.”
Carmen was watching me, her face unreadable.
“I am not the kind of man who is capable of murdering a woman.”
“I don’t know why I should believe you.”
“If I were, why would you still be alive?”
To that, her brows pinched.
“I don’t hurt women. That’s not who I am. That’s not how I was raised. I don’t know where you got your information. But they got it fucking wrong. I didn’t kill your friend.”
“Then who—”
The sirens drew close, then paused outside the house.
Carmen sucked in a deep breath, then slowly let it out.
“We have to talk to them.”
“Yes.”
“Should I leave my gun here?”
“If you don’t want them getting trigger-happy, yes.”
“Should I tell them I have it?”
“You can tell the truth. You hid in your room with your sister and the dog with your gun to protect you.”
“Okay,” she agreed, letting me take the gun and put it on her dresser. I reached down, offering her my hand.
There was a strange static electricity sensation that shot up my arm as her hand slipped into mine.
There were a million things we both wanted to say at that moment. There just wasn’t time.
“Your sister probably told the cops that I’m your boyfriend,” I told her. “It’s probably best if everyone’s stories match up.”
“Okay,” she agreed, voice hollow.
She didn’t pull her hand from mine, so I squeezed hers tighter as we walked as a unit toward the door.
Hamster didn’t even try to escape as we moved into the hall and closed the door behind us.
Everything about the life I was raised in, and the life I’d lived since leaving my parents’ house told me to avoid cops whenever possible.
That said, I hadn’t done anything here. This wasn’t some crime I could be accused of when I was inside with the girls when it happened.
“Well, I might have gotten into it with that group of guys a few days back,” Chip was telling the cops as we moved out onto the front deck after walking through the glass strewn about the front room. The whole front was going to need to be boarded up until the girls could get someone in to replace the windows.
“What guys?” the cop asked as Sofia stood a few feet away, her arms wrapped around herself, looking wide-eyed and even smaller than usual.
“Those three brothers. Red hair. Troublemakers, all of ‘em.”
“You got into an altercation with the Callum brothers?” the cop asked.
“Mighta whacked one with my cane. But he almost plowed me over on that electric bike of his.”
Was that all this was? Some local street gang pissed at an old man?
“You can’t go around hitting people with your cane,” the cop admonished.
“They can’t go driving by shooting up people’s homes!” Chip snapped. “There are innocent women living here.”