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People might say I’m just as bad as all the bad things my husband does because I pretend I don’t see it. And maybe I am. Because despite the fact he doesn’t care if he’s killing a man or woman, I would rather have him protect me and our children from it than be vulnerable to it without him.
I don’t bother explaining. There’s no fear in me. Not an ounce. Manuel is going to come for me. The only thing I feel is sadness for is all the people he’s going to kill to get me back.
* * *
Manuel
Going into the house, I’m surprised at how empty it feels. I check my watch. Nicolette should be here.
Harriet appears. “Sir?”
“Where’s Nicolette?” I ask, glancing around.
Eyes wide, she shakes her head. “I don’t know, sir. She hasn’t arrived.”
Anger fires through me. Where the hell is she? Did she run? I call her. No answer. I don’t leave a message and call again. No answer.
What the fuck? I pull up her tracker. She’s moving away from the city. My phone rings. “Nicolette?”
“No, but she’s right here. Say hello, Nicolette,” the man says. He’s on speaker.
“Please don’t kill his wife and children,” Nicolette begs.
I close my eyes. There she goes, thinking of others again. Too fucking bad. I needed something to destroy, his world sounds good.
“Still there? Look, it’s like I told your wife. We want the same thing. Richie. That’s all. You can have her back. Once you hand over Richie alive—and able to talk. I need what he knows. And when he’s done, I can kill him for you or hell, I’ll even give him back. But I need him. As soon as I have him, you can have her.”
I’m focusing on his voice. Detecting the accent is Eastern European isn’t difficult. But it’s not until he saysaliveI know he’s Serbian. Fucking Richie did something very bad with extremely bad men.
“Nicolette, it’s not your fault, baby. All the blood. It’s not. He made the mistake. I’m just correcting it.”
The laugh is brittle, forced. Good, he’s scared. He should be. “Don’t be stupid—”
“No,youdon’t be stupid. The only reason why you’re alive is because she is. Remember that. How do I get ahold of you when I have him?” I ask as I follow them turning into the state park at the edge of Illinois.
“I’ll call you. I’m giving you two days.” He cuts the call.
Exhaling slowly, I make the call I wouldn’t make unless they had my woman.
“What?”
“I need you to find Richie Angelo. Now. They have my wife for trade.”
Two sighs echo. “Tell us what you have.”
* * *
Nicolette
It’s a tiny cabin barely bigger than a stamp. My guess is it’s something set up for a resting place. All it has is a chemical toilet and an old, crusted metal sink.
He tells me to wait. He’ll be right back with supplies. I watch him through the cracked window. Sighing, I sag into what has to be the most uncomfortable chair ever.
The man is back with a bag of groceries. He goes back outside and returns, carrying two chairs I’ve seen people use at outdoor events or to go camping with.
He pushes out a cooler I hadn’t spotted beneath the metal table that maybe has enough room for four people to sit around. There’s ice at the bottom and he up ends the bag of food into it.
“You hungry now?” he asks as he nods at the cooler.
