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"How did you—"
"Don't bother making up some pathetic lie. I know all about your gambling debts and just how much shit you're in. Afraid I have some more bad news for you." I throw down a stack of papers on the desk in front of him.
He picks them up with shaky hands, and as he scans them, his cheeks redden even further as the anger radiates off him. "She thinks she can just annul the marriage? Over my dead body. She’s my insurance policy," he spits out, then looks back to me like it was a mistake. "I mean..."
"Don't bother. You really are a lowlife piece of shit, using a cancer patient to get to my money," I spit angrily back at him.
His eyes narrow, and he studies me. "You don't know the half of it, Son. I have been using that bitch mother of yours for years, ever since your daddy disappeared."
Anger that I had simmering close to the surface bubbles over. For years, I have heard enough of his shit. He's a fucking dead man. But as I go to reach for the gun I have tucked into my waistband, Cassandra appears in the doorway.”
"I heard shouting. Is everything okay?" she asks, looking between us.
And in the split second I take my eyes off Jerry to look at her, he draws his gun, pointing it toward her. "Lucky for me I have a backup plan." He slowly walks toward her. She stands deadly still, her eyes wide in shock of what she just walked into.
"Leave her alone, Jerry. Your fight is with me, the girl has nothing to do with it."
He smiles a sadistic grin of a man who is on the edge. "I actually feel quite proud of myself really, orchestrating this whole thing. And I didn't even realize when I hired her that she was going to be so important to you. But she is, isn't she?" He points the gun to her head, and there is nothing I can do but watch. "Our little star is going to be your downfall, Lewis."
Her eyes search mine, looking for answers. "I don't know what you're talking about, Jerry, but I'm sure we can all work this out if we just talk it over. We don't need guns."
He looks from her to me like he’s possessed. He has completely lost it. He knows how much shit he's in. He's a loose enough cannon that he would pull the trigger. "She’s more important to you than anything, even money. I can see it in your eyes."
I don't say a word, just keep my eyes fixed on hers, trying to work out how the fuck I get her out of this. I could pull my gun on him, but he might just shoot her on the spot.
"You don't have to answer me, I know the answer already. Why do you think I sent you two away together? I needed you distracted so I could take what I wanted from right under your nose. And it would have worked too. But I didn't count on your connection with the fucking Rivera boys. But now that will work out for me as well. Two birds with one stone and all that."
My last hope is to try and negotiate with him. "If it’s money you need, I can get it for you. Just let her go, she has nothing to do with this. I know you, Jerry, you're not going to hurt an innocent girl just to pay off a debt."
His eyes meet mine. They’re cold and detached, and I know in this moment there is nothing I can say. He is going to get what he wants or die trying. "This is how it's all going to go down. I'll take the girl with me as my insurance."
She whimpers, tears rolling down her cheeks. My heart stirs.
He looks at her. "Don't worry, sweetheart. You will be fine so long as your man Brandon gets his shit together and gives me what I need."
"What do you need?" I demand.
"My debts squared off with the Riveras. And the death threats from them gone for good."
"Done. I can transfer the money now. Hand her over to me," I insist, hating the desperation in my voice, but he has me. I don't give a shit about any of the money I have. The only thing that matters is that I have her back in my arms.
"Not so fast. You're not running this, I am." He wiggles the gun around for emphasis. "Your ma can have her annulment, but I want five million dollars in cash and a private plane waiting for me at the Palm Springs Airport by seven pm today." His lips turn up at the side in a slow sardonic smile. “Or you won't be seeing her again." He checks his watch. "Tick-tock, you're already running out of time."
CASSANDRA
THE COLD HARD BARREL of his gun is pressed to my temple. Jerry's other arm is wrapped around my side. He stinks of sweat, and my stomach turns with revulsion having to be so close to him. I could see Brandon wanted to help me, the fear in his eyes as I was dragged from the room, but there was nothing he could do. If he tried, Jerry would have shot him or me for sure. The hallway around me spins, making me feel dizzy as I try to keep up with him.
"Jerry, what's going on?" I cry, trying to make sense of what just happened and why he's turned a gun on me. "Please let me go and we can work this all out," I beg, trying to plead with him as he shoves me toward his car. I don't want to get in there with him. I've seen what happens to girls who get into cars with gun-wielding madmen; they don't come back alive, and that is not going to happen to me, it can't.
"Open the door and get in the fucking car, Cassandra." My body stiffens at his tone. He's furious, and if I don't do what he says, he might shoot me, but if I do, I'm probably dead anyway. Unless Brandon can get him what he wants in time. Even then I feel like my chances of surviving this are slim.
"Jerry, please, I don't really know what's going on, but we can smooth this all out. I know we can, you're not a bad person." I look at him, trying one last ditch attempt at his decency, but I already know it's going to be useless. Something had happened between him and Brandon that's so bad he has completely lost his shit.
His eyes narrow in on me. They’re dark and cold in a way that makes him look inhuman, like he is possessed by a demon or something. "Get in the car, or I will shoot you right now," he spits again. And this time my body does what it's told without another thought. Opening the passenger's side door and getting in, he follows me, shoving me over so I'm in the driver's seat, and he sits next to me, the gun still drawn and pointed at my head. He tosses the keys in my direction, and I pick them up. "Drive," he demands, his tone deadly.
My chest tightens, and with shaky hands, I put the key in the ignition and press my foot to the gas. "W-where?" I stutter out as I pull away from the school.
"Airport, private terminal," he demands.
