41. Petra

Chapter forty-one

Petra

I rush down the street, arms filled with coffee and donuts, hoping the brisk pace will help warm me up. My app made it seem like a short walk, but city blocks are a lot longer here than in Swift River. I round the corner to Rosewood Court, and Reed’s pretty, sunny house beckons me in.

God, I love that man. I thought sex would be scary after all this time, but with Reed it’s effortless. No uneasiness or second guessing. He drowns out any insecurities with kisses and dirty words that make my toes curl. I glance at the pink mark around my wrist, and heat pools in my belly. I’d ducked out because my stomach was growling and there was no food in the kitchen, but maybe we can have more sex first and donuts second.

But as I get closer, the front door is partially opened. Surely I didn’t leave it that way? I’m quiet as I make my way up the walk, weighing my apprehension and paranoia. Maybe it’s a quirk of the house, and the front door doesn’t latch properly without the lock.

“If you leave now, no one has to know,” Reed says from somewhere inside, and I hesitate on the porch. “You say you have my back? Ok. I’ll cover yours. No police, no jail.”

Jail?

Kinley. My blood turns to ice. I set my shoulders back outside the front door, steeling myself for the catfight I’ll need to put up. I promised Reed I’d protect him, and if he can’t get her to stop, I will .

“But you have to stop waving that thing around,” Reed continues. “The minute the gun goes off, that’s all out the window. You’ll be looking at years in prison.”

A gun. Panic steals my breath, and I struggle to remember what to do. We’ve talked about this at work, how robberies aren’t worth our lives, and we should comply and let them go. But this isn’t a burglary, and I have no idea what to do.

“I wish we could bring some of this with us,” Kinley says. Her voice is nothing like it was on the phone. It’s soft, pouty, girlish, and strangely familiar. “I got you these scotch glasses for your birthday, remember? Remember how, two glasses in, I stripped off my panties and—”

“I remember you forced me to drink.”

“Don’t be such a prude,” she chides, opening a drawer. “C’mon, Daddy, bring out your bad side. DK would tell me I’m being naughty. He’d tie me up and punish me right here. He’d pound my ass with something like this until I learned my lesson.”

“You’re sick, Kin. When’s the last time you took your meds?”

“Be careful who you call names. You’re not the one with the gun,” she warns. “I don’t need meds. I’m better now, remember? Used to be that anyone in a club bathroom could get me off. Now it’s only you. We’re meant to be.”

“People who are meant to be don’t have to hold each other at gunpoint.”

“If you don’t like my behavior, you should do something about it,” she taunts. “Remember when you threatened to fuck me with a baseball bat after softball practice if I didn’t stop being such a tease? Where’s that daddy? Be rough with me! Love me until I bleed.”

“I never—Christ, Kinley, come back to earth! Look at me. Fucking look at my face. That’s not me. I’m not him. You don’t even like who I am, remember? I’m boring.”

I remember that episode. He’d started taking requests from his highest tier patrons, and someone chose a bullying, authoritarian scene with a coach. Kinley can’t tell them apart. If she’s this out of it, there’s no limit to what she might do.

I can’t lose him. Not this beautiful man who deserves sunny afternoons. I promised he’d get them.

Please, God, please don’t let him die. You didn’t listen to me with Natalia, but please listen now. I’ll go to church. I’ll be a better person.

“I…” She pauses, as if God answered my prayer and let her sanity leak in. But then she smashes my hope with a sledgehammer. “You’re lying. I listened to some of the recording you made with her. It took me out of it each time you said her name, but you’re still that guy. I want what she has! I’ll make you love me. Even if I have to break you to do it.”

“You didn’t want it to go like this. Let’s make a different plan,” Reed offers.

I carefully put my phone on silent and set breakfast down by the door. I breathe through my panic and send a group text to Tommy and Darin with shaky fingers.

Kinley is here and has a gun. Tommy has the address. Call 911.

Tommy responds in seconds.

What? Where are you? Is anyone hurt?

Not yet. She’s in the kitchen. Front door open. Hurry.

“I have a great plan,” Kinley growls. “That’s why I got my new ID and passport.”

“What good will that do you?” Reed asks, as my phone buzzes with more texts from Tommy.

Stay hidden if you can, keep her calm if you can’t.

Love you Tron i

“Because, Daddy, after Petra is dead, you and I are crossing to Canada as man and wife. From there, we’re getting on a plane to Ecuador. Tropical life, it’ll be great.”

Something slams inside the house. “Touch Petra and I’ll—”

“Don’t test me!” Her shrill scream echoes through the house. “Take another step and I’ll shoot.”

It’s escalating too fast to wait for the cops. I search for a makeshift weapon, scrambling like an idiot. Jesus Christ, who am I kidding, trying to take on a woman with a gun? I choke back a laugh, because I shouldn’t swear only minutes after bargaining with God to save Reed’s life.

But then Mama’s words come back to me from Natalia’s burial. “Faith isn’t about what you offer in return. Faith is believing with your whole heart, and trusting that God has a plan you will never understand. You can’t pray for your plan. You must pray for His.”

As much as I hated the advice back then, it rings truer now. What would my life be like if I still had Natalia? Would I have gone back to writing? Would I be this close to my siblings, to my parents? Would I have met Reed, or spent the rest of my life unhappily tied to Nate? I’ll never stop missing her, but I will also never understand why it happened the way it did.

I trust in your plan. I grab a foot-tall garden statue that the previous owners must’ve left behind. I have faith in my blindness, for I cannot understand. My hands steady, my heart rate slows, and I creep through the front door. They’re around the corner, in the kitchen, and a quick peek confirms that Kinley has her back to me.

“I’m trying to play nice,” Kinley says frostily. The sound of a gun cocking echoes through the room. “But now you’re just insulting. If I can’t have you, Daddy, no one can.”

With a deep breath and a chest full of faith, I dart forward, raising the statue to hit Kinley with it. She’s faster, though, and spins around once she hears my footsteps.

I freeze. I’ve met her. She’s the cute, bubbly blonde from the grocery store. The one I’d wished could be a friend .

She smiles like a shark as she raises the gun, and Reed launches at her from behind, sending them both across the room. They fall to the floor with a thud. She tries to get away, but Reed yanks her back.

The crack of a gunshot rings in the empty kitchen. It’s deafening. Reed groans, hand gripping his leg, and I scream.

“No, Daddy! I’m sorry, I…” Kinley gets to her feet, pale faced and wide eyed. She turns to me and lifts the gun in my face, merely a foot away. “You did this!”

My heart pounds, adrenaline pushing me to make the stupidest decision possible. I bring the statue down on her forearm, forcing the gun down and away from us while another shot goes off. Heat blazes through my arm.

I let go of the statue and twist the gun up and to the side. The sharp snap of her trigger finger shattering is nearly as loud as the gunshot, or the concrete statue that slams down on her foot. She screams and curls forward, dropping the gun.

I lunge for it, but Kinley grabs me. Her nails rake across my cheek and catch the corner of my mouth. My vision goes red, and I’m suddenly blind to the pain.

She hunted us down. She hurt Reed. She’ll do it again and again.

I pummel her in all the places Silla ingrained into my memory, but Kinley is scrappy. She punches back equally fast. There’s an unhinged rage fueling her, but I’m getting tired. When she gets to her knees to run, I make a desperate call.

I shove her face to the side, striking her upper neck, cutting up and under her jaw with my elbow, just like Silla taught me. Kinley’s teeth clatter together, and pain radiates down my forearm.

Three of my fingers go numb, but I ignore it as she collapses to the floor. I flip her onto her stomach and pull her wrists behind her back. Kinley squirms underneath me, but I grab the roots of her hair with a strength that surprises me.

“Reed!” I scream. I can’t look away from her. “Please be alive. Please, please, please. ”

“I’m here,” Reed says, but it’s faint through the buzzing in my head.

“I should beat the hell out of you,” I growl in Kinley’s ear. “You have no human decency. You will never understand that you’re not good enough for him, and I’ll make sure you never touch him again. It’s done, Kinley.”

“Petra.” I finally let myself look. Reed’s lip is bleeding, his forearms bloody with fingernail tracks, and more blood dribbles out from where his hand is pressed to his leg. He tries to crawl toward me, wincing, but can’t move far. His hand is gentle when he stretches out to squeeze my ankle. “You did beat the hell out of her. I can’t believe you ran in here like that. Actually, I can. Baby, you okay?”

I’m shaking, my face hurts, and there is blood trickling into my eye. “I don’t know.”

Something hard hits my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. Reed’s hand slips from my ankle. My head slams against the floor, and the rest of my body follows. Sharp pain radiates up my spine, and it stuns me. My heart thuds, heavy and thick in my chest. It’s never been so loud before. It drums louder, faster. Like a countdown. It multiplies until it’s more like thundering footfalls.

Kinley’s forearm presses down on my throat while she raises the gun in her good hand. “Move and I kill her!”

“Please,” Reed begs, face ashen. He’s leached of all the beautiful color he brought into my life. “Please don’t do this. I’ll give you anything you want. You want Ecuador? Let’s go. Right now. Come on.” He reaches a hand toward her, pulling her focus away from me.

“I knew you’d see it my way,” she says with a giggle, and the barrel of the gun presses hard against my temple. “But I was just kidding, Daddy.”

Time stretches. I find Reed’s eyes with mine. His jaw tightens, no sign of his dimple. God, I miss his dimple. I love you. I don’t have enough air to get the words out .

I close my eyes, picturing sunlight and waffles. Reed’s laugh, Silla’s hugs, Tommy’s smile, Livi’s playful glare, Mama’s humming over the stove, Papa’s gentle touch as he brushes my hair back, and little Natalia. My baby.

When I open them again, Kinley’s smile disappears. “She was always going to die today.”

“No!” Reed shouts, lunging for her. The drumming quickens into a stampede of horses in my ear. The gun goes off with two pops, loud as the crack of lightning, and my ears ring and go silent. The sunlight I picture behind my eyes is doused to black.

But there is no blinding light to take its place. There’s no one waiting for me, or welcoming me home. I’m stuck here. A ghost.

Is this what I get for turning my back on God? I should’ve done things differently. Should’ve left Nate years ago. Told my family I loved them every day. Jumped in headfirst with Reed. Published my books—whether they did well or not. I should’ve done it all for me . How could I ask anyone to love me when I hadn’t loved myself?

At least there’s no pain. Kinley’s heavy weight still pins down my side. Any second now, I’ll rise out of my body to see my blood spread across the floor in the house that Reed and I were going to call home.

Tears well in my eyes, and it’s so stupid that ghosts can cry, because death was supposed to bring peace.

“Petra!” Reed’s voice barely registers. The volume of the whole world has been turned down, but his voice is shredded as he yanks my body away from Kinley’s and cups my face. He turns my head to search the wound, and I wish I could tell him not to.

Great, heaving sobs bubble to the surface. It’s not fair. I wanted a whole life with Reed. All this time fighting it—terrified of what would happen if I let him in—what was it all for? I wasted weeks of sunshine with him.

“Pet?” Reed’s hands are everywhere, and he pulls me up to sit and cradles me to his chest. “You’re okay, love. You’re okay. ”

He smells like I remember. Warm and comforting, and a little like me, which makes sense after the night we had. I reach up behind him to clasp his bare, cold shoulders, desperate to be close to him.

Wait. What?

Through my fuzzy hearing, there are loud thumps like footsteps, and voices all around me. I peel myself away, and there are uniformed officers talking to each other nearby. I search for where Reed pulled Kinley off me, but there are two people in the way. Reed puts a palm against my cheek and turns my gaze back to him.

“Don’t look,” he says. “Trust me.”

“I—she—am I not dead?”

Reed’s face is gray. “That’s not funny.”

I can’t control the way tears push up to the surface and claw at me. “It was a real question.”

“Oh, baby.” He pulls me in tighter. “You’re not. Thank God. Thank you, thank you, thank you, God. I don’t even know how the police are here, but I’ve never been so grateful. I thought I was going to lose you, but you’re not going anywhere and neither am I. I’ve got you, Pet.”

Tommy. They’re here because of Tommy and Darin. I owe them my life.

“GSW to the leg,” a voice breaks in, close to my ear, and Reed hisses out a sound of pain. A hand squeezes and prods my arm. “A graze here, too. Upper arm. You’ll need to let go of her,” the voice says, and Reed holds me tighter. “Sir, I need to see how serious your wound is.”

“Reed,” I protest hoarsely. “Let me go. You got shot.”

“So did you,” he counters, but loosens his hold. “What is this?” Reed snorts a shocked laugh. He’s still pale as he nudges the statue with his good leg. It’s a pixie sitting on a mushroom. “Only you could rescue me with a fairy, Pet.”

“I didn’t plan it that way,” I admit, hysteria building in my throat. With the shock wearing off, the world comes back into focus. My arm burns, as does my forehead. There’s a lot of talking, both in the room and over the radio, but I can’t make sense of any of it. A group of people rush a gurney out of the room. “Kinley?”

“The police intervened.” Intervened. Such a bland word for something immense. I’m shaking as I let go of him. The fingers in my left hand are still numb. I can’t tell if I broke my arm when I hit her. It doesn’t matter.

I soak up the sight of Reed’s golden eyes and strong jaw. An EMT pulls us apart to lay Reed down and apply pressure to his thigh. He says something that sounds like it’s underwater.

“How bad is it? Are you dying? Are you in pain?” I ask, crawling to kneel above his head.

Reed shakes his in disbelief. “Pet, you almost died. Yell at me. Hit me. Please.” He cups my jaw in his hand, stroking my cheek with the same reverence he traced the pages of my book. “You’re incredibly beautiful upside down.”

“So are you. You’re going to be okay, Reed. We’re going to be okay.” He nods, and I press our foreheads together, breathing him in while I come back into my body. Everything hurts. My muscles are tight and my face throbs. Reed has to be in agony. I press my hand to Reed’s chest, and his heartbeat echoes under my palm.

It’s the only thing that matters. He’s safe. Safe to see another dawn.

The officer pulls me away so the medics can get Reed onto a gurney. He reaches for my hand as they guide us toward the ambulance. We’re separated in the emergency department, and I’m given medication for the pain. It numbs me, and I fade in and out of time while they take my clothes, my DNA, and photos of my wounds before and after they’ve been cleaned out.

A scan shows that the nerve damage from my uppercut should heal in a few days to weeks, and the police come into my room to take a statement. I’m exhausted when it’s over, but all I want is to see Reed.

“Petra! Petra !” Livi is so loud that her screams are impossible to miss. There’s a low conversation and then she comes bursting in with Tommy. “Oh my God, Troni, I thought you died!” she sobs, throwing herself over me. “Darin heard over the scanner—”

“Livi.” Tommy warns her, and Livi presses her lips shut. Tommy looks me over, assessing where I’m bandaged. “We got some conflicting reports. You were shot? How’s your pain level?”

“Barely a graze, Dr. Diamante,” I tease, but I can’t manage a smile. I’m too busy memorizing both of their faces. “I’m worried about Reed. I didn’t—there was so much happening. I don’t know how he is.”

“Darin is asking about him right now,” Livi assures me. “Can I get you anything? Water? Wine? After a morning like yours, I’d want some wine.”

“Jesus, Liv.” Tommy wipes a hand over his face. “She’s probably on a narcotic. No wine.”

“Well I need wine,” she mutters. She folds her fingers around mine, and Tommy takes my other hand. “What happened? Tell us everything.”

I grimace, because the cops wouldn’t share anything with me. “I don’t know much. I went out for donuts, and when I came back Kinley was in the kitchen with a gun.”

“It’s not a game of Clue,” Livi chides.

“Troni’s in shock. Give her a break. She’s going to need time.”

“We heard—” Livi swallows. “They said there was a female in critical condition on the scanner. We had no way to know whether that was you.”

Critical condition. My heart rate monitor beeps faster as the terror from the kitchen comes back full force. If that officer hadn’t taken the shot, I wouldn’t be here right now. Was Kinley’s pretend love worth all of our pain? Worth her stress and anxiety, living a crazed life in pursuit of something that didn’t exist?

Livi purses her lips against the tears that trickle down her face. “Silla is on her way, and I left the kids with Mama. They’ll drive over later. ”

“I’m sorry I scared you all.” I squeeze Livi’s hand, and the ice in my veins thaws. “I wouldn’t be here without you, Tommy. Thank you.”

Tommy takes my other hand, wiping his face on his shoulder. “I’ve never prayed as much as I did today.”

“Me too,” I admit. It’s a good reminder, and I close my eyes and send my prayer out into the universe.

Thank you for sending Reed when I didn’t know I needed him. For saving him. For giving me another chance at happiness. I know now what it means for me to walk with faith. It was never about church and rituals. It was about family, love, compassion, and forgiveness. I promise to walk in those places, and think of you while I do.