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“Do you mean it?” Her voice sounds so hopeful, almost like this is exactly what she wanted, me taking her away.
“Of course, I mean it, just stay in your room until I get there, okay?”
“Okay. I–I can do that.”
Faith lets out a steady exhale, and I smile. I blast through a red light, knowing I’ll be with my love in mere seconds. Almost home. Almost there.
“I’m going to hang up now,” she says in a steadier voice. Her breath sounds less panicked. I smile softly as I pull into our neighborhood, dropping to a slower speed to make it through the snow.
“I’ll be there in sixty seconds,” I say softly. Then she hangs up.
In forty seconds, I make it into my driveway, park, turn off the car, and run to Faith’s home. The front door isn’t even latched. That wino bitch couldn’t even close her own front door.
I kick it in. I’m greeted with the sight of an obliterated Margaret’s jaw dropping open. She screams wordlessly, falling back into the arms of her lover.
Who I recognize immediately.
You gotta be fucking kidding me?
Rico. My boss’s brother. Frederico’s father. Fuck. I got away with killing his son, but will I get away with this one? Tony was never fond of his nephew, which is probably why he never looked into his death, but Rico is a different matter. This is worse than I expected.
“Vincent!” he says in a false-jovial tone.
“Rico,” I growl. My fists are curled at my side. His smug, bloated face is especially worn today. He’s in his forties, but the years of partying and no consequences have taken a toll. He doesn’t sound drunk, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t. “What a delightful surprise. Would you like to share?”
“Huh…?” Margaret says, looking between the two of us. She stumbles again to the side and looks me up and down. “Well, I wouldn’t mind.”
“You shut your mouth,” I snap, jabbing a finger toward her. “I’m not here for you.”
Rico’s mouth falls open with realization. He’s a mean bastard, but he’s far from stupid.
“I thought that house next door looked familiar.” He grins, tapping a finger against his flabby face. “You have a thing for that little vixen upstairs, don’t you?”
I don’t say a word. Margaret sways in place, trying desperately to make sense of things, but gives up after a moment and turns, walking into the living room. With a sigh, she flops onto the couch and promptly begins to snore.
Mother of the goddamned year.
“Well, we seem to be here for the same thing, Vincent. Since you saw her first, I’ll let you have a go at her.” No amount of drugs, alcohol, or money could ease that cruel look behind his eyes. A look that I want to snuff out.
I lunge forward and clamp a hand around Rico’s fat neck. I’m younger, taller, and stronger than him, and he barely puts up a fight. Cheap whiskey is on his breath, and I resist the urge to gag. I slam him against a wall and tighten my grip. He starts to spit and gasp, and I watch a red flush creep up his face.
“If you touch her, you die. I don’t care who your brother is. Nobody harms her.”
Rico coughs again, tries to mouth the words at me. I respond with a squeeze. Red begins to turn purple, and his eyes start to bulge.
“If I find you downstairs after I get her, your life is over.”
I let go. He slumps to the floor, taking a deep wheezing breath, and I head to the stairwell.
“You’ll…regret…this…” he says through gasps. I ignore him and leap up the stairs, heading to my love.
Even if I hadn’t already known which door is hers, my soul would have found her. I knock in a rush.
“Faith. It’s me. I’m here,” I call out, desperation creeping into my voice. From downstairs, I hear the front door slam. He’s gone.
The door swings open, and Faith leaps into my arms. I shudder, overstimulated by the sudden onslaught of her. I smell her. I feel her. Her face is buried in my chest. It’s like a dream. She has a small backpack on, and her hair is starting to come out of its braids.
She looks up at me, tears in her eyes. I can tell she’s been crying for a long time, but the red rims around her eyes make them look even bluer. I wipe a tear from beneath her eye and smile gently.
“Please, take me away,” she whispers, her bottom lip trembling.
I swoop down, lifting her by her legs. I carry her like my bride, heading down the stairs on steady feet. She wraps her arms around my neck, burying her forehead against me.
“As you wish, princesa,” I whisper as I carry out of her former home and over to mine.
