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Murphy. He was talking about Murphy.
Guillermo raked his eyes over me. ‘Girl, he knows Murphy visited you. He knows ain’t nobody seen the man after he left you.’
I swallowed thickly. ‘What are you trying to say?’
Guillermo took a step forward. ‘Nothing. I ain’t trying to saynothing. I don’t know what happened, and I don’t want to know, because knowing anything like that puts me in the firing line, you hear me?’
‘You know he’s dead. You know I killed him.’
‘I know you can be fucking stupid, Ana.’
My anger kicked up a beat. I wanted to kill Emilio. I wanted to feel his blood on my hands. I wanted it to soak into my skin. I wanted his death to become a part of who I was. If that was stupid? So be it.
‘Open the door,’ I said, my voice hard.
He didn’t budge.
‘Now, Guillermo.’
He shook his head. Fucking prick. I responded by taking aim at the door, just to the left of his head, and squeezing down three pounds on a six-pound trigger. If I sneezed, Guillermo would be as good as dead.
He just stared at me.
‘Open. The. Door.’
‘No. Fucking. Way.’
There was a hard rap on the door outside, and it was lucky I didn’t blow Guillermo’s head off. He stepped to the side and ducked, as I stared at the door, panting heavily. I took my finger off the trigger.
Guillermo glared at me, motioning for me to lower the gun. ‘Jesus fucking Christ, I’m on your side, bitch. Settle down.’
I was seething. ‘Who did you call?’ I demanded. Guillermo ignored my question, tapping a code into the security pad that I didn’t quite catch, and opened the door with a heavy thunk.
I gripped my gun tightly at my side, ready to aim at whoever the fuck was daring to come into my house when I was reeling from the events that had happened today. My finger itched against the hard metal trigger, begging for release. I hoped that it was Emilio. In that moment, I didn’t even care if he shot me as well. As long as I got a bullet in him first. He needed to bleed for what he had done. For everything that he had done.
But it wasn’t Emilio. It wasn’t Dornan.
It was John.
Of all the people I had expected to see on my doorstep, John had been the last one. I loved him. And up until that moment, I had truly believed that he and I were the only twothat were aware of that fact. Tears pricking at my eyes, I stared at Guillermo.
Could I really trust him?
Was this a test?
Was Guillermo in with Emilio?
I couldn’t begin to imagine what he was thinking or who he was allied with, so I turned my attention back to John. He entered my apartment, closing the door behind him and standing silently in front of me. He was a sight to behold – ripped jeans and a tight black shirt that showed off his muscles to fine definition. He looked hot, not just in the sexual sense, but because sweat was beading on his forehead, his shirt sticking to his chest.
‘Did you run here?’ I asked.Did you run here?What kind of stupid-ass question was that?
His expression was grave as he looked at the gun I gripped tightly by my side. ‘Heard you weren’t doing too well. You know me. I can’t help myself.’
I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream.
CHAPTER SIX
JOHN
