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63
CORA
“Cora.”
The desperation in Ivan’s voice makes me want to weep. My dad was right: it’s obvious he loves me. It’s the only thing he wears on his sleeve.
I want to open my eyes and tell him that I’m awake. I’m okay.
But I can’t. Not yet.
“It’s too late for her,” Francia says. “Say goodbye.”
I’ve been waiting for the right moment. Really, I’ve been waiting for the buzzing in my ears to ease and my balance to return. I’ll be dead long before that happens, though. Unless I act now.
I feel Francia stiffen. I know this is it.
She’s going to kill me.
All at once, I slam both hands up and swing her arm and the gun away from me… at the same moment she pulls the trigger.
The sound of the shot pierces my eardrums, but I power through the pain. The time for rolling over and waiting for someone to save me is over. Ivan and Anya didn’t train me for nothing. They trained me forthis.
“What the—” Francia is frozen for a few precious seconds. The still-smoking gun is in her hand, aimed at the front door instead of my head. And I lunge.
Distantly, I hear Ivan laugh in surprise. I tune it out. I tune out everything except Francia’s hollow, angry face. I focus on her sunken-in eyes… so I can scratch them out.
She tries to swing the gun back at me, but I grab her wrist and twist. She elbows me in the ribs and knees me on the inside of my thigh, but I don’t let up until the gun clatters from her hand and falls to the floor.
“Push her back!” Ivan yells. “Get away from her and I’ll shoot.”
I try, but Francia is clinging to me. She knows I’m the only thing standing between her and being shot dead.
Francia wraps her hand around my neck and spins behind me. My head is already fuzzy and her pressing on my windpipe isn’t helping.
“You can’t fight me, Cora,” she whispers in my ear. “I’m stronger than you. I’m tougher than you.I want this life more than you do.”
I claw at her arm.
Ivan moves closer, but then I feel it. A blade pressed to the side of my neck.
“She has a knife,” I gasp.
Ivan stops in the middle of the room. I’ve never seen him so tortured. Torn between keeping me safe and wanting nothing more than to rip Francia’s head from her body.
“That’s right. I have a knife.” Francia cackles. “Cora here keeps destroying all of my plans, so I came with plenty of backup. It’s time you learn that you can’t steal from other people and get away with it.”
“You thinkIstole something from you? You’re the one who stole my life. My husband!”
“The only reason you know Ivan is because I dressed you up and pushed you in the right direction,” she snaps. “If it wasn’t for me, the two of you would have broken up once Ivan completed his little mission. You’d be back waiting tables at Quintaño's, pretending you don’t regret letting Ivan get away. Maybe that would be better than how things are going to turn out for you. At least you’d be alive.”
I shake my head, talking more to Ivan than to Francia. “No matter what happens, Ivan is worth it. He’s worth every insane thing you’ve put me through. We aren’t together because of you. We’re together because we love each other. Because we are meant to be. You had nothing to do with it.”
The tip of the knife twists in my neck. I feel a warm trickle of blood running over my skin. “One thing is for sure, even if you think I had nothing to do with getting you two together: I’m going to have everything to do with keeping you apart. In the end, Ivan’s future is in my hands. His fate belongs to me.Ivan is mine.”
She’s insane. Francia is certifiable.
But hearing her claim Ivan with so much conviction is all it takes to send rage burning through me.
