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Nasty motherfucker.
“What thefuckdo you think you’re doing with my woman?” I spit at him, and he grins.
“Oh, this is rich.” He laughs. “Did she finally suck your cock enough to have you pussy whipped?”
I smile and look at Camilla with a twinkle in my eye. “You could say that she’s definitely swallowed my cock a few times.”
Another laugh, another urge to gut him. “She’s been fucking me this entire time.”
Camilla shakes her head quickly. “No, Nik.” Her eyes plead with me. I know precisely the last time she fucked him, which seems like a lifetime ago, but it was definitely before we were married. What’s done is done. “You know that’s not true.”
I do know.
She lives with me.
“That’s mywife, and if she says she’s not fucking you then I believe her.”
“The fuck she is.” He flicks his gaze between Camilla and me. “She’s going to marryme.” She shakes her head at him, and he sees red. I can tell by his face that something has switched. A little voice tells me to back up, so I do, putting at least ten feet between us.
A shot rings out and my right shoulder feels like it’s on fire, then I drop to the ground just as quickly as I felt it. While I’m probably not going to die, my vision is blurred. I’m not sure if it was the sound of it being so close or the short distance at which he shot me, but I’m unable to move.
Searing pain incapacitates me, rendering me immobile, and I support myself with one arm to try to get up. I fail, falling on my ass as more pain courses down my arm.
“Fuck you,” Leonardo growls, grabbing onto Camilla’s arm. Her eyes are wide, and she looks between the now bloody Dahlias and my pained expression. “She’s mine, she will never be yours.”
“Solnyshko—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Leonardo interjects.
“Nik!” Camilla yells, fighting Leonardo to come to me. He’s too strong, holding her back is effortless for him. “No, baby, look at me!”
“Wait—” I beg. “Don’t take her.”
“Nik!”
Leonardo yanks her to his side and shoves the gun against her ribs, making her walk wherever he needs her to. I know he wouldn’t hurt her, but after he just shot me I bet she believes he would kill her. Who knows, maybe I’m wrong, and he just might.
My breaths heave and my chest feels like it’s burning. I watch her leave me behind and follow him out of the backstage area while I struggle to breathe. Someone notices me at last and screams for help.
“Are you okay?” the blonde woman asks me, her blue eyes crinkling with concern. “Oh my God! You’re shot!”
I want to say it’s okay, but suddenly I can’t breathe. Maybe it’s not my shoulder. Maybe it’s my lung.
Maybe—
I fall to my side and hit my head on the ground, my world quickly going black, fuzzy around the edges.
But even that is painful.
* * *
It’s been two weeks since I got shot.
For two weeks, I haven’t been able to go get my wife. I know exactly where she is; I just haven’t been mobile enough to leave the apartment. Honestly, I should still be resting, but I feel fine. I got lucky. But Leonardo? He’snotgoing to feel fine when I’m done with him.
Now, however, I’m sitting right outside of her neighborhood in Chicago. The plan is to leave my car at our park and go on foot from here. Once there, I’ll figure out how to get inside. Even with security, it shouldn’t be that hard to find a way, regardless. I always used to.
An hour later, I’ve tripped security and gotten through the gate and the guards, and now I’m standing on her bedroom balcony just as I used to do when we were kids. I hear voices from the other side as I hold my breath and try to listen to who it is over the pounding in my ears. The whoosh of my heart makes it impossible, so I hide to the side, away from the doors, in fear that my shadow will give me away.
