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“You mentioned Joey was the last of them…”
“Yes. I hope Marissa is proud.” He reaches up for the sun visor and flips down a picture of his wife smiling so bright her eyes are squinting.
She does look angelic, which makes my gut twist that much harder, and what’s weirder… she looks like me. That connection jolts all my nerves into hyperdrive. For the first time in my life, my body is limber in the face of a killer, and I lunge for the gun. To my surprise, it’s in my grasp.
Leandro doesn’t flinch. He’s just petting the face of the picture tucked into the corner of the mirror, half-glancing at the road.
My hands are shaking as I point the pistol to the back of his head.
“Do it,” he says calmly. “It’s my turn to be free.”
I forget how to breathe. Pointing a gun at someone is nothing of what I imagined. My heart is beating through my chest, thumping all the way to the top of my head.
He slows the car down, which scares me more.
“Don’t swerve or I’ll shoot.”
He cackles at that. “I don’t have any regrets for giving you the gun, Alessia.” He’s still petting the picture as the car slows. “I’m giving you a chance to survive if you find the guts to pull the trigger.”
I exhale audibly, strengthening my grip, though my finger refuses to touch the trigger.
The car bounces as it settles off-road on the grass, making me brace my legs against the back seat, and jolting me out of my doubt—he wants this, clearly. And… I don’t want to die. I make sure my aim is perfect, resting my index finger on the trigger. I’m not sure where I would go or who I would call. Arnold failed to protect me. Surely the Rigianos would send more of their thugs after me now that I’m an even bigger liability.
A vice grips my chest, making it hard to breathe. This is a different type of panic. Taking a life?
Leandro plucks the picture from the mirror and holds it gently in his grasp. He then turns around calmly, almost like he’s trying not to scare me.
This is the first time I glimpse his face up close. A scar on his eyebrow, perfect jawline, eyes that are so hard it’s like looking into two marbles. The corners of his lips curve up even when he frowns.
“Back!” I blurt.
His tattooed fists flex as he braces around the headrests to awkwardly turn in his seat. He leans his forehead forward so it presses hard against the silencer.
“Do it, Marissa.” He shuts his eyes, not an ounce of fear in his expression. “I avenged you. There’s nothing left. Do it. Free me.”
I bite my lip so hard, the barely scabbed skin from my earlier panic breaks open. My arms are shaking.
He snapped, but not in the way I imagined.
I’m free… if only I can pull the trigger.
“Do it!”
His deep voice scares me and I drop the gun, tears rolling down my face.
His eyes open, and I fear I’ve let the devil live.
That terrible grin is intact again. “Why?” He’s looking at me, but not asking me. His eyes pierce right through. “There’s nothing left.” He sighs, regaining himself.
“I—” My voice shakes so hard, I shut my mouth and curl up.
“What?”
“I—I’m not Marissa,” I dare to say.
He sighs again, shaking his head this time, then turns around to put the car in drive. “Now we’ll both live on my borrowed time, Alessia. I don’t know why, but we will.”
We make the rest of the drive in silence. I glance at the gun on the floor to my side, but now know I don’t have the guts to use it. So I just sit there, perplexed and stricken, until we finally make it to a rickety house in upstate New York.
