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Her unfocused gaze fixes on mine and she squeezes her eyes shut, breathing heavily before she slowly begins to calm. “That’s it, baby,” I whisper. “Breathe…”
As her panic subsides, she inhales slowly, then exhales. Tears stream down her cheeks. “He’s—He’s…” She slams her eyes closed again and sucks in a breath. “Diego.” Blinking back tears, Isadora straightens her shoulders, grips my wrists with her small, delicate fingers, and says, “Make it hurt, Zain. When you kill him… make it hurt.”
With one single nod, I make her a promise. “I will.”
By the time we make it back to the hotel, it’s after midnight and Isadora, overcome by exhaustion and grief, is slumped against the car door, snoring softly. I cut the engine and stare out the window for a long minute, recalling the sound of the gunshot and the image of Diego’s head exploding.
Isadora’s screams are stuck in my head on replay, a reminder of the moment I fell to my knees and screamed Sara’s name.Fucking hell.I’ve seen—and done— some messed upfucking shit in my life, but nothing has ever come close to the scene I just witnessed.
Hands still gripping the steering wheel, I clench my fingers a few times before I rest my head on the leather between my hands. The remnants of adrenaline still runs through my veins and I’m on high alert when I crack open the car door and step onto solid ground.
After a quick check of the surrounding area, I head around to the passenger side and carefully lift Isadora out of the car and into my arms. She remains sleeping and nuzzles into my neck as I cross the parking lot to our room.
Once inside, I place Isa on the bed before turning back to lock the door. Hand raised, reaching for the knob, I stop in my tracks.
On the floor lays a large manila envelope, my name—my real fucking name—written neatly on the front.
Pulling my gun from the back of my pants, I raise it, and slowly head toward the only other room in this dingy hotel, the small bathroom. I give the door a nudge with the toe of my boot, and as it opens, I shift my stance and aim toward the open space. There’s no one there, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
After checking the windows and locking the door, I swipe the envelope off the floor and drop down onto the bed.
With quick movements, I open the envelope and shake out the contents.
The photographs, all ten of them, are spread out on the floral comforter. Each image shows a moment between me and Isadora. Snapshots of our bodies, naked and entwined, fucking in this very hotel room. The two of us, only hours ago, sitting outside the café, talking to Diego. My body splayed over Isadora’s as I shielded her. And finally, at the bottom of the pile, an image of Diego’s body, his head unrecognizable.
How did they get here so quickly? Who the fuck has been following us?“Fuck!” I stand, hands gripping my hair as I pace the room. “Isadora!” I shout too loud. Lowering my voice, I rush out, “Isa, baby, wake up!” I give her shoulder a shake before I start throwing our belongings into bags.
Isadora sits, rubbing her eyes. “What? Zain, what’s going on?”
“He found us, we need to leave,” I say. “Pack a bag now, hurry.”
“Pack a bag now, hurry…”
The memory crashes into me, taking me to my knees. “No! Not now, not now, not now!” I slam my hands over my ears to block out Sara’s desperate cries, and my father’s voice.
Soft hands cup my cheeks. “Hey, hey, what’s happening? Zain?” Soft, gentle lips press against my mouth, and I melt into her touch. A tiny moment of reprieve in the midst of chaos.
Coming back to myself, I open my eyes and our foreheads touch. “I’m good,” I say, kissing her one more time before I brush off her concern. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
I scoop up the photographs and shove them back into the envelope then into my bag. I do a quick scan of the room to make sure we haven't forgotten anything. Satisfied, I throw the bags over my shoulder and grab Isadora’s hand as we race out the door.
We make it to the car without incident, and I jump in and take off toward the cabin.
Chapter 17
Isadora
BANG!
The sound reverberates through my mind and my body jolts with the force of the memory.My brother is gone.
The sounds of my own screams still ring in my ears. There’s nothing I can do to silence them.
Big, heavy tears fall from my eyes, and I choke back a sob as I press my forehead to the cold tiles in the shower.
“You okay?” Zain calls.
I inhale, then exhale slowly before I clear my throat and pull the shower curtain aside slightly. “Yeah,” I lie. “Can you just give me a few minutes… I—I just need…”
