Page 61 of The Voicemail

What I find, though, is a gun. A very large, very heavy gun.

I quickly close the box and slip it back under the bed, heart pounding. It’s no big deal, I tell myself. Of course he has a gun, he’s in security. That shouldn’t be such a shock.

I pull my shirt over my head and rush to his bathroom. Except I open the wrong door and end up in his closet. On the back wall is a display of guns. A dozen, at least.

I freeze when I see them and realize I don’t actually have any idea who Alex is.

20

ALEX

Iwake to a cold bed and think Elena’s slipped out in the middle of the night. Then I hear a sharp gasp.

“Elena?” I call.

I scan the room but don’t see her. She doesn’t answer. I look blearily toward the bathroom, assuming that’s where she is, but the door’s open and the light’s off.

“Elena?” I try again.

Another sharp inhale, and I know something’s wrong. I get out of bed and follow the sound to my closet, where she stands staring at my wall of guns. Fuck.

“Elena,” I say carefully as I approach. “What are you doing in here?”

“I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “I thought it was the bathroom.”

She turns on me and I see terror in her expression. She tries to mask it, but she isn’t fast enough.

“Please, just let me explain,” I say.

“You don’t owe me anything,” she answers, brushing past me as quickly as she can.

She heads for the bathroom and slams the door. The lock turns, loud in the quiet of my room. The only thing louder is my heart pounding against my ribs.

How am I supposed to explain this to her? I could lie again, but that’s not going to help. Not after what we just shared. I have to be honest. I knock lightly on the bathroom door.

“Please come out,” I say. “I promise you, I’ll explain everything.”

“Like you did last night?” she shouts back.

Her voice echoes in the large space. I rest my forehead against the wood and groan.

“I fucked up,” I admit. “I should have given you some warning. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

She yanks the door open, so fast I nearly stumble forward. Her expression has jumped from fear straight to fury. I can feel it radiating off her.

“Don’t you dare minimize this,” she warns. “You have exactly one chance to tell me the honest truth, or I swear to God, I’m walking out that door and you’re never going to see me again.”

“It’s not safe,” I remind her.

“I don’t care,” she says in a low, hoarse voice. “I’ll find Tomaso myself and offer myself up to him. Tell me what the hell I’m looking at or I’m gone.”

I sigh and nod, backing away to show her I mean her no harm. I would never hurt her. She crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe, unimpressed by the gesture.

“You may want to sit down,” I warn her. “What I’m about to tell you is a lot to process.”

“I’ll stand,” she shoots back icily.

I nod and look down at my hands as I try to form the words.