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“What about Romeo?”
She trembled. “I only hooked up with him to make my husband jealous. He hates—hated the Mafia.”
“So Romeo had nothin’ to do with Elise? He didn’t help you find a hitman?”
“No, he wouldn’t have.”
Heat simmered in my chest. Mafia politics hadn’t killed my sister. Elise died because of this broken creature. It all happened because Becky couldn’t deal with her husband’s affair. It was pedestrian…so inadequate. This could’ve been avoided.
The worst part?
None of it had to do with Achille. I let my fears paint him as the villain in a tragedy he had no role in crafting. The enormity of my mistake suffocated me.
“So you killed Travis and my sister,” I hissed, loathing simmering in my veins. “After ripping my family apart, you introduced yourself to me.”
Becky nodded, her sobs subsiding into shuddering breaths. “I wanted to be close to my husband’s son.”
I shuddered. “For what?”
“To see how he was doing. You were struggling, and I felt bad about that, so I…I helped when I could.” Her eyes glazed over. “Jack’s such a good boy.”
“You wanted me dead because I was raisin’ Jack?”
“I thought, if you were gone, maybe I could have a piece of Travis back.”
I bristled. “So my life meant nothin’ to you?”
“It did,” she murmured. “I enjoyed being your friend, but it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry.”
An unholy silence fell in the room. There was nothing, save for the occasional drip of water from Becky’s hair. Her apology hung like a poisonous cloud. My hands clenched into fists.
“For what?” My voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “Toying with me? Dangling happiness in front of me only to snatch it away because of your twisted sense of entitlement to a boy that isn’t yours? All because of a vendetta against a woman who’s no longer here to defend herself?”
Becky looked down.
“We were supposed to be friends,” I continued, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “I opened my home to you, shared my fears, my dreams. Let you babysit my child. And all the while, you saw me as an obstacle to your delusions.”
Her soft gaze met mine. “I know it’s no excuse. My anger consumed me. Jack was…a chance to hold on to Travis. But it was wrong. I see that now.”
A hollow laugh escaped me. “A bit late for epiphanies, don’t you think?”
I stood up, pacing the shed. How many nights had I spent, fearing what Achille’s world would bring into our lives, only to find the true danger wore the mask of friendship?
“All this time, I’ve been afraid, thinking Achille’s family would harm Jack. But it wasn’t them. It was you. You brought this madness to our doorstep.”
Tears blurred my vision, not for Becky, but for the love I’d discarded so easily. Achille. His face flashed in my mind. He had to be furious with me. She slumped in the chair, the picture of my own broken heart. Fear had pushed away the one person who loved me and Jack. She’d ruined that.
“Please,” she begged me. “I’m sorry.”
She needs to die.
I grabbed the gun on the table. I had no idea what I’d do with her body, but she deserved death.
Do it.
I pointed the gun at her head. Flipped off the safety.
The door swung open.
