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LAURA
Another week passed.
The only thing that consoled my heartbreak was my desire for revenge. I fantasized about it, imagining how I would make my father pay for what he did to me. I would punish him for hurting me. I would punish him for what happened to my mother.
My arm looked better, but it still stung with pain when I did too much. I wouldn’t be able to throw a punch. It was my dominant hand, so it would be hard to stab someone too. But I also knew I couldn’t just march up to my father and shoot him at point-blank range.
No, that wouldn’t work.
I didn’t want to shoot him and walk away.
I wanted to make him hurt.
I wanted him to feelbetrayed.
Countless times, I considered going to Bartholomew’s apartment and saying something that would change his mind.But that man was as impenetrable as concrete. It didn’t matter that his feelings for me hadn’t changed.
He was the most stubborn man I’d ever met.
If his ex hadn’t hurt him so deeply, I might have had a chance…but she fucked it up.
I fucked it up.
I collected my bags then stepped outside into the warm air. It was summer now and the air was hot and humid, and my body instantly started to sweat under my blouse.
I stood at the curb and waited for my ride to show up, and that was when my phone rang.
Bartholomew.
The second I read his name, a lump formed in my throat. I feared the day I wouldn’t see that name anymore, when he stopped watching my apartment because he didn’t care about me anymore.
I answered. “Hey.”
“Laura.” His voice was stern, like a parent scolding a child. “Get your ass back on the plane.”
I missed him, even when he was pissed off at me. “No.”
“Don’t do this.”
“I have to.”
“Laura, it’s not worth it. Live your life—and live it well.”
“I can’t.” My father didn’t just break my heart. He ruined the best relationship I’d ever had. I think I hated him more for that than shooting me. “I have to do this.”
“You have no chance. He’ll finish the job.”
“I have a plan—”
“An idiotic one. All of this is idiotic. I sacrificed my reputation so you would live, not go back into the lion’s den.” He sounded so angry, I imagined him storming around his apartment throwing his arms about, knocking over lamps because he was so irate. “Get your ass back on the fucking plane—”
“If you care about me this much, then why won’t you forgive me?”
Silence.
“Give me another chance if you’re this upset.” I’d never begged for a guy. Never chased a guy. But I knew he was the only one I wanted, and I believed there was still hope. He said one thing, but the heart on his sleeve was a direct contradiction.
“Are you playing me right now?” Now his voice was quiet—but ice-cold. “Thought if you took a plane to Italy you would force my hand?”
