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I won’t be home when she gets there.
14
I am not a survivor. I am a warrior.
Lara
Armand is on the couch, and I hear noises in the kitchen.
Running through Roland’s small house, I spin on my heel in the dining area. I slam my bedroom door open, but it’s dark and silent.
“Are you okay?” Evie’s light brows are pulled together as she steps into the room.
“Where is he?” My insides break. “He’s not here.”
“Who?”
“Mark!” I push past her to Jilly’s room, but she catches me before I open the door.
“The baby’s sleeping, Lara. Mark hasn’t been here. Was he supposed to be?”
“Oh God… Oh God, Oh God.” I’m in my bedroom ripping the silk dress over my head and jerking on a pair of jeans.
Slamming drawers open and closed, I pull on a long-sleeved tee and a pair of thick socks.
“What’s going on?” Roland is at the door.
“We have to go—Armand!” I run out to the living room. “Armand, I need your help, please!”
His dark brow quirks. “What is it?”
“Mark said he would be here before I got home. Something’s happened. He’s in trouble or he’d be here.”
Armand stands slowly. He’s wearing a dark, tailored suit, and it makes him look even taller, slimmer.
“He went to Landry’s.” He opens his blazer and takes out a small handgun. “We can take my car.”
“You carry a gun?”
“Darling, I’m not as nice as you think I am.”
“I never thought you were nice.” My voice is just above a whisper. I didn’t mean to say it out loud, and I press my lips together quickly.
He gives me a wry smile, and my stomach is tight. I realize how little I know about Evie’s boyfriend—other than he loves her. I guess that counts for something?
I don’t have time to sort out my feelings right now.
Roland’s voice is sharp. “Just hold the fuck up a minute. What the hell is happening here?”
I’m already at the door. “There’s no time—Roland, come on! Mark wanted to confront Landry, but I didn’t want him to go. I wanted him to wait…” My voice breaks, and tears heat my eyes. “He’s so stubborn. Oh, God, I knew something was going to happen.”
“That’s why he borrowed my car?” Roland dashes to the tall cabinet in his living room and opens a small drawer. He takes out a black case shaped like a gun, and his eyes level on Armand’s. “Let’s hope it’s not too late.”
My knees go weak, but I get it together. We’ve got to get to Algiers.
“What’s happening?” Evie’s voice is panicky. “Armand, I don’t like this…”
“Evie,” I rush over and grip her arm. “We have to go. Please stay here with Jilly.”
