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I shove my key into the ignition with shaking hands. Somehow, I manage to make it through the gates without crashing. I make it an entire two blocks before I'm forced to pull to the side of the road.
Great, heaving sobs wrack my body.
I lay my head on the steering wheel and sob.
I cry so hard I choke. I just lost everything. My job. The man I love. Everything. And I have no one to blame but myself. I knew what I was getting myself into, and I got myself into it anyway.
Love doesn't make us stupid. It turns us into lunatics.
"Call Ceres," I gasp, stabbing the button on the navigation menu.
My car confirms the call and then ringing blares through the speakers.
He picks up on the second ring.
"Athena? What's wrong? Why are you calling so late?"
"Ceres," I sob, needing my brother more now than ever. "It's o-over."
"What's over? What's wrong?"
"Everything."
Everything is over. Everything is wrong.
Yes, that sounds about right.
Eventually, I calm down enough to tell Ceres everything.
"I'm going to kill that dirty son of a bitch," he swears. "Who the fuck is he?"
"It doesn't matter," I mumble numbly. "It's over now."
"It does matter. I want a name, Athena."
"Ceres, please," I plead, squeezing my eyes closed. "I can't do this right now."
"Shit." He expels a hard breath. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make you feel worse. I'm mad as hell that you're hurting. What can I do?"
"Take me back in time and tell me not to fall in love with him?"
"I wish it were that easy, kid."
"Yeah," I sigh. "Me too."
"What are you going to do now?"
"I don't know. Quit my job, I guess."
"You don't owe him that, Athena."
"I know, but it's not just about him. I wanted to quit when Dennis gave me this case," I confess. "But I'm stubborn and he annoyed me, so I decided to stick it out just to prove him wrong." An abrupt laugh erupts from my lips. "I guess that ship sailed, huh?"
"No. You proved him wrong. You did what no one else was able to do, and you got the truth. That's not a small thing, baby sister."
"Yeah, but I didn't get it because I'm good at this. He gave it to me because he knew it didn't matter if he told me or not." My bottom lip quivers. "I hate him."
"No, you don't," Ceres says quietly. "You hate that you don't hate him."
"Yeah." A tear slips down my cheek. "It'd be easier if I did." Maybe it'd hurt less. Isn't that what I really want? For it to hurt less? Because right now, it feels unbearable, like I just lost a part of myself.
How did he become so important so quickly? How did I fall so fast? God, I didn't even feel it happening. I didn't even know it was happening until it was too late to change it. By the time I realized I was falling, I was already head over heels.
But I think I loved a lie.
And, perhaps, that's what hurts the most. I gave him all of me. But sitting here now, I'm not sure I knew him at all. I just knew what he wanted me to know. I was right about him that first day. He is one of the most dangerous men in this city. But even knowing that, I underestimated just how dangerous he would be to me.
When I wake up the following morning, it's to find him sitting on my front porch. My heart clenches in my chest, threatening to shatter all over again. He looks as wrecked as I feel. But I don't see how that's possible. He's the one who played me.
God, he played me like a freaking drum.
Fury bubbles to the surface with the thought. I spin on my heel and march back inside, going straight for the weapon I keep in the drawer beside the couch. I stomp back outside with it in my hands.
"Leave," I growl. "Now."
"Jesus Christ, Athena." He hops up from my porch swing. "Put the fucking gun down."
"Not until you get the hell off my porch."
"Put the damn gun down."
"Get. Off. My. Porch." I aim it at his feet. "Now."
"Not until you hear what I have to say."
"You said more than enough last night. In fact, you said more than enough to last night." I flip the safety off. "I'm counting to three, and then I'm pulling the trigger."
"I swear to God, if you shoot, you better shoot to kill, bella." His eyes glitter with fury. "Because if you don't, there will be hell to pay when I get my hands on you."
"I changed my mind," I say. "I'm not counting to three."
I pull the trigger.
Diego doesn't even flinch as the gun goes off. He doesn't move at all. Not even when shards of wood splinter inches from his feet. Splinters fly up, showering down over his shoes.
