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Vander would come. I knew it. I just had to stay alive, and my chances were greater if I was with Joyce instead of this psychopath.
“I’m out.” Air rushed into my lungs as relief washed over me.
“What?” Joyce stepped towards us. “We had a deal. You’re supposed to send her out of the city.”
He straightened his shirt, standing taller. “She’s damaged goods. Who’s going to take her looking like that?”
I had never been thankful for what Mitchell did. I didn’t believe in ‘pain makes you stronger.’ Or ‘everything happens for a reason’. But in this moment, I could’ve dropped to my knees and prayed. If my scars sent this man away from me, then I’d be grateful for each one.
“Wait!” Joyce called after him, following the man towards the exit.
I couldn’t make out her words, but I could feel her desperation. It cracked when the door slammed shut, but that sound was my hope igniting.
Joyce’s look of panic and outrage made me smile.
“Stupid bitch!” She crossed the room in a matter of seconds. Her heels clicking on the floor. And even though I should’ve suspected it, I hadn’t.
So when her hand came down, a gasp of agony fell from my mouth. My teeth cut into my lip, splitting it open. I swallowed the thick metallic tang before sucking in an unsteady breath.
Why did it still surprise me when someone who was supposed to love me hurt me? After Mitchell, you’d think I’d be done. But the physical pain of her slap had nothing to the bruising of my heart.
“Fine, I’ll do it myself.” Her chest rose as she huffed. She said it like I was an inconvenience. Like wrapping a present that was supposed to come gift-wrapped. Like my life was annoying, but not important.
“I tried to kill you already.” She tossed the comment out as she dug around in her bag.
“That was you?” My shout died, my question unanswered as she pulled a small handgun from her bag. It was fucking pink, matching her purse, but there was nothing funny about it.
“I couldn’t hire someone; it would just get back to Vander.” She shrugged, but I wasn’t focused on her words. All I could see was the gun in her hand. The bullet that would kill me in an instant.
I knew. I’d seen it happen. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to see Mitchell’s head exploding. Thick red blood as it splattered across my face. Screams. Agony.
“Then I thought I’d make a little money and send you far away.” Joyce’s voice pulled me from the edge.
I needed to stay focused on this room. On her. Not the past. I couldn’t change the past, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to anymore. It had brought me to Vander. But I couldn’t go back to him if I didn’t focus.
“But you can’t even do that right.” The anger rose in her tone again, as did her hand. Her ring connected with my cheek. I felt the impact deep in my bones, and I knew there’d be a bruise.
My stomach rolled as more blood filled my mouth. Sweat broke out along my skin. It made my hair cling to my face as I glanced up at my mother-in-law.
I saw it then. The thing in her eyes that reminded me of Mitchell. It was insanity. Whatever sickness lived in him, he got it from her.
I’d survived it once, but I wasn’t sure I would this time.
47
Vander
The sun was still high in the sky when my tires screeched to a halt in the asphalt. I left the keys in the ignition and the door open as I jumped out. The magazine clicked in place as I checked my gun; the sound echoing across the deserted parking lot.
There were chunks of grass growing through the cracked concrete. The windows were missing panes, and the ones still there were thick with dirt. I heard a ship’s horn and saw crashing waves beyond the building. Once part of a shipping business, it backed up to the bay. Now, it held discarded needles and burnt-out cars.
And my wife.
Rage exploded in my chest as I imagined Grace being in a place like this. I hadn’t brought her into this life. But I’d forced her to stay. To marry me. And I was failing at doing the one thing I was supposed to as her husband.
Protect her.
I didn’t wait for Cole or Angelo. I couldn’t. My wife could be hurt right now. Bleeding. Dying. She needed me.
