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“Put the gun down, Sugar.” Rémy’s angry voice whips through the room like a live wire.
I ignore him, trying to make sense of everything before deciding I just don’t care. I keep the gun against my jaw and back up toward the laundry room.
“I think I’ll go now. I can either walk away on my own two legs or fly away in the arms of an angel because I’m so done with all this bullshit.”
“Let us explain.” Calix steps closer, but I back up, pushing the door to the laundry room open.
“There’s nothing to explain. I’m sure you all have a really good reason for doing what you did. I mean, you’re good. All of you are. You played your parts to perfection.”
“We had to make it believable,” Maxim says softly, my eyes shifting to look at him.
“Oh, it was. Believable, that is. I believed it all.” I shake my head, feeling a tear slip free, much to my frustration. “I loved you,” I tell him. “I loved you all.”
I swallow, feeling my hand shake, but I keep the gun pressed to my chin. There is something freeing about admitting it out loud.
“The guilt was eating me alive. Fuck. I hate who I am with you. I can’t look in the mirror anymore. You did that.”
Calix flinches at my words.
“You hurt me over and over, but you did it in such a way that I believed it was all my fault. I felt dirty,” I choke out, my eyes landing on Rémy’s. He growls and steps closer, but I shake my head.
“I’m happy Santos is gone. Thank you. I just think it’s time for me to go home now. Back to my life and to the people who love me so completely that my leaving would have mattered to them. It’s true and real and makes me feel alive.
“What we have is toxic. Nothing good can grow from the seeds we planted. There’s no light, no happiness, no hope. I don’t trust you. I...”
Footsteps have me whirling around, the gun up and ready. But when a small body collides with my legs, a sob rips free from me as I collapse to the ground and wrap my arms around Zale.
I feel the men crowd around me. One of them takes my gun, and I let them. I hold Zale tighter and cry. I cry for all I’ve lost, and I cry for what I’m about to do. Even though I stand by everything I said, I still love them. Still want them with every fiber of my being. I just know I deserve more.
“I want to go home,” I whisper.
“I’ll get my plane ready to take you anywhere in the world if you promise to just listen to us first.”
I look up at Maxim’s voice and glare at him through my tears. “Okay, but once we’re done, I’m leaving,” I warn them all. Nobody fights me, and for some reason, that just makes me cry harder.
Being a hormonal woman sometimes is a fucking joke— I freeze solid, vomit rushing up the back of my throat as a thought crosses my mind. I haven’t had a period in six weeks. If I’m hormonal, it’s not because I’m getting my period. It’s because I’m pregnant.
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
Before I can deal with the shitshow that my life has turned into, I have a promise to keep. I pull out my cell phone and dial a number, explaining what I need and hanging up once they agree to help me. I hesitate before making the next call, but I know it’s time. I dial the number I know by heart and listen to it ring.
When it picks up, I have to force myself to speak through the emotion threatening to choke me, “I need you.”
“Sugar? Jesus fuck.” I hear Lollie curse down the line as I squeeze my phone so tight, I hear it crack.
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m sorry—”
“Tell me what you need.” She cuts me off. “Everything else can wait. Are you safe?”
I look up at the men I love watching me and snort. “No. Not even close.”
I reel off the address of the place and the house I grew up in.
“I’m on my way, Sugar. Don’t you dare die on me.”
She hangs up, and I shove my cell back in my pocket. I tip Zale’s head back and dry his eyes.
“Everything is going to be okay now, but I need you to be strong for me for a little longer while I help out the other people.”
