Echo(39)

“I want to know when you find her mother!” I holler.

“Will do,” he calls back before the sound of the door closing grants me much needed isolation.

Slumping down into the couch, I rest my head and stare up at the ceiling, replaying the evening. Everything about it is a Gordian knot. And not just the words that were spoken, but the wound I gave her that she’s successfully mutilated. I remember ripping the hair from her scalp and the pleasure it gave me to punish her. But her reaction was not what I expected. She didn’t as much as yelp at what must have been blisteringly painful. She simply stood there as tears dripped down her face, yet she wasn’t crying, not like you would think.

But tonight, when I walked in on her and saw the blood, my only reaction was to help her. Taking care of her and cleaning her up makes me sick, now that I think about it, but in the moment, all the turmoil faded. It was when she started to speak that it all came crashing back. It flooded the room, drowning me in its weight when she told me she didn’t know if the baby was mine.

That f*cking baby.

All I wanted was that baby. I never knew I wanted one so badly until she told me she was pregnant. Instantly, my soul split and begged to have a son or daughter fill me. I would close my eyes and dream about it.

The news birthed a surge of overwhelming protectiveness inside of me, and I would have done anything for the two of them the moment she told me she lost the baby.

And I did.

It happened all too fast.

Walking away from Nina as she fought the nurse’s restraints . . . Speeding through the traffic . . . Grabbing my pistol from the car’s console . . . The chill of the metal against my back as I tucked it in my pants . . . Pulling into The Legacy’s garage . . . Back entrance . . . Elevator . . . Fury running thick through my veins.

Doors open, I walk.

Foyer, living room, hallway.

Door.

Head and heart pound. Ears ring. Blood boils.

One hand on gun, the other on door.

Open . . . Aim . . . BANG.

I can still smell the gunpowder, see the look of fear in Bennett’s eyes, hear him gurgling and choking on his own blood. I killed a man—an innocent man—point-blank. His last words, a plea for me to not do it, still haunt me. But I did it anyway because I thought him to be the man Nina manipulated to me. I believed he killed my baby, and for that, he would die.

But it was a lie.

I shake the visions from my head and walk over to pour myself another glass of Scotch. It’s my pathetic attempt to quiet the demons in me.

The conundrum I battle with is the idea that Nina is the vile one, and that somehow I’m good. But I’m not. I’m a killer. She didn’t pull that trigger—I did. I don’t want to bathe in the same evil as she, but I do.

It was her that screwed with my head, twisting truth with lies, creating me into this monster. But a monster I am, just as she, and I allowed. Whether I intended to or not—I still allowed it.

But it isn’t just what I did, it’s what she did—or didn’t do. Leaving me to die. Not doing anything to help me. Yet tonight, she vowed she loves me and wants to do everything to save me from the path she put me on. How could she say that when she left me with two bullets in my chest, bleeding out on the floor of my loft—bullets fired by her brother?

God, her brother. The brother she was f*cking.

All he had to say was Go and she went, never coming back for me. I’ve been lied to and manipulated by many, but her betrayal has debilitated me, ripped my heart out, riven to obliteration. Raping the soul entirely. Who knew her hands could hold so much turpitude?

Everything combined is impossible to digest. The contradictions she throws out do nothing but spur confusion and animosity. My mind craves clarity on the situation, but I doubt I’ll ever get that because I doubt her sanity. Yet, the mere mention of her leaving tomorrow evokes a thrum in my chest, and that shit bedevils me the most.





I’VE BEEN TRYING my best to play the part, cooperate with the authorities, and feign my innocence, but shit is looking bad. Cal’s been sitting in jail, and it’s only a matter of time before they come after me. I can trust that Cal is keeping a tight lip, otherwise, I would’ve already been arrested. But he knows firsthand what can happen if his loyalty is compromised.

Needless to say, with everything I stand to lose, if they uncovered my involvement in the gun trafficking and my other crimes, they’d fry me. I’m a dead man walking at this point, but I’m not a man who’s going to sit back and watch his dynasty collapse. Pawns are beginning to fall, so I need to move fast.