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The walls were closing in on me, the generic beige paint clouding my vision. “Is that all?” I asked.
“I noticed you have a picture with your Irishman on the table here.” She nodded toward my bedside table, but I couldn’t look without deepening the cut at my neck. “But it’s facedown. Love life not going well?”
“You can’t kill me, Amara,” I reminded her. She narrowed her black eyes on me. “I’m untouchable. Don Luca will be furious if you break the promise he made. So, get your knife off my throat and get the hell out of my apartment.”
Amara’s glare was pure hatred. If I hadn’t made a deal with her uncle, she would—without a doubt—have stabbed me. Then again, if I hadn’t made a deal with her uncle, I wouldn’t be in this colossal mess.
She pulled the switchblade from my skin, flicking it around her fingers before tucking it into the pocket of her trench coat. “Three days.”
I followed her out of my bedroom, my gaze bouncing between Amara’s shoulders and Ella’s sleeping form. Movie credits were rolling on the television, otherwise Ella might’ve woken up.
Amara didn’t spare me another glance as she sauntered into the hall, closing the front door to my apartment behind her. I put one foot in front of the other, holding my breath while I paced back to my room. When I shut the door, I slid down the back of it, trembling from head to toe.
After the week I’d had, I didn’t think I’d have any tears left to cry. Alas, something hot and wet dribbled down my cheek. I smothered the sobs, covering my mouth with my hand. Oxygen was being sucked from the room, leaving me a withering corpse. I was heading straight for a panic attack.
Not wanting to wake my sister, I crawled toward my closet, my heart a blur inside my chest. I sat in the corner, shutting the door behind me. I grabbed a sweater from the floor, stuffing the cashmere between my teeth before letting out a long, hopeless scream.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Emma
Ella babbled around a mouthful of French toast, but I’d checked out of our conversation thirty minutes ago. The ominous sound of a clock ticking down rattled my already-sore brain, reminding me I had three days.
Once Don Luca realized I’d lied to him about Nate’s suicide note, he’d kill me without hesitation. I needed to get a hold of Jack. Broken up or not, it was the right thing to do. The don would be coming for him as well, if only just to hurt me. I wanted Jack to live a safe, happy life. I no longer felt bitter about the cheating, not when I’d done so much worse.
Lives would be ruined. My sister—who was now prattling about her course catalog—couldn’t move in with me. She wouldn’t be able to attend her dream school. My family would have to stay away from Manhattan—maybe even the country—for a while. I wasn’t sure how far Don Luca’s wrath would extend, but I wouldn’t put their lives at risk with my idiocy.
Where would they find my body? Would Don Luca kill me or would he have his Babau do it? I would discover the bogeyman’s true identity, but it’d be too late to do anything about it. Either way, I was destroying lives. My death would hurt my family to no end. Would they have to identify me? Would I be identifiable?
Three days, then nothing.
“I need you to defer Tisch for a year,” I blurted, interrupting Ella’s stream. The noise of the boisterous diner threatened to burst my eardrums—the clanking of dishes, the scraping of cutlery, the chatting at nearby tables. No one had a clue they were sitting among a girl marked for death.
“I’m sorry?” Ella asked, eyes widening. I stared at her fork, watching a piece of egg dangle from a tine before falling with a plop onto her syrupy plate.
“I need you to defer Tisch for a year. This is important, Ella.”
She searched my face, parting her lips in disbelief. “You’re scaring me, Em.”
“I’ve made a huge mistake.” I took a deep breath, rubbing my temples. “Like, really huge.”
Ella set her fork down with purpose. “I’m waiting.”
“Defer Tisch, go abroad, try to convince Mom to go with you.” If my mom traveled with Ella, then I’d just have to worry about my dad’s safety. He’d be harder to lie to. “I’ll pay for everything. Hotels, planes, trains, food—you name it.”
Ella drew her brows together as I spoke. “Are you… What’s going on?”
“I can’t go into detail,” I answered, praying she would give me some grace—not that I deserved it. “But I’ve pissed off some dangerous people. I don’t know what lengths they’ll go to for revenge. If they can’t find me, I’m scared they’ll hurt you. Or Mom and Dad.”
Ella bit her lip, rolling the paper from her straw between her fingers. I knew she was analyzing my words and inflections, trying to piece the puzzle together. She wouldn’t be able to. It was too convoluted.
She cleared her throat. “Has Jack threatened you?”
I should’ve assumed her mind would jump to Jack. “God, no. This is on me. I made this particular bed without anyone’s help.”
And now I have to lie in it, forever.
Ella glared at me from under her lashes, but it wasn’t with anger. “Then what are you going to do about it? Because from what I’m hearing, it sounds like you’ve given up.”
