Chapter 37

This isn’t happening. My ass hits the ground as my knees give out on me. I close my eyes, but when I open them again, I’m met with the same image. Harry’s lifeless body.

How long have I been here? And where is my dad?

I’ve never doubted my father’s ability to protect me. To keep me safe. To find me if I ever needed finding. I’m not going to start doubting him now. He’s coming for me. I know he is. Guilt for even thinking that he put a hit out on Travis eats away at my subconscious. I should have known my dad wouldn’t do anything that could hurt me.

It’s not long before regret sinks in too. I’ve wasted the last week trying to keep Travis safe by staying away from him. He was hurt. He needed me. And I wasn’t there. I should have been there. Staying away wasn’t the answer. I get that now, and I’m afraid he will never know how sorry I am. How much I love him. I made him doubt my love. Even if it was that same love that had me willing to break us to save him.

Does he know that I’ve been taken? Is he looking for me? He’s not accustomed to this kind of thing happening. Not that I am. But I have seen people disappear. Some of them are found. Most of them are not. I understand the reality of my situation, which is why I manage to creep closer to the old man’s body. My hands fumble as I search his pockets. There has to be something…

“Please just have a pen, anything really.” I look around the floor. There was a pen. I remember there being a pen to sign that bullshit marriage license. Where did it go?

I saw Lou take the piece of paper with him. But did he take the pen too? I can’t recall.

I search the pockets inside Harry’s jacket and pull out his wallet. Opening it, I’m met with a picture of a woman and two younger girls. My heart breaks for the strangers staring back at me. They’ve just lost someone important to them, and there wasn’t a single thing I could do to stop it. I don’t find anything else in his pockets. No phone. Nothing.

My hope of actually getting out of this unscathed is wavering. I know my dad is going to find me. I know that he and my uncles and my cousins… my brother… they’re all looking for me. And I know just how ruthless they will be until they hunt us down. Part of me can’t help but wonder if it will be too late, though…

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here, next to Harry, when the door rattles again. I jump up and move to the other side of the room. Creating as much space between myself and Lou Monroe as I can. He walks in dressed in a bathrobe.

“Why aren’t you cleaned up?” he yells and charges forward with only the bed standing between us now. “You’re going to have to learn the hard way that when I tell you to do something, you’re going to fucking do it or face the consequences.”

I watch his movements, and as he rounds the bed, I jump up on the mattress and bolt to the other side. My aim is to get to the door. I just need to get to the door. I’m only a few more steps away when his hand reaches out, wraps around my ankle, and pulls me backwards.

“No!” I scream out as I frantically try to grip onto something. Anything. My body is flipped over, and his weathered palm comes down across my face so fast I don’t have time to move or avoid the contact. A sharp sting burns my cheek.

“I told you to fucking clean yourself up. You think I want to fuck my wife when she’s covered in the blood of some other man?” Another quick slap leaves my skin hot to the touch. “If you won’t do it, I’ll do it myself.”

I can feel my body being lifted. I’m still dazed from the blows. My head turns to the side, and that’s when I see the lamp. My arm reaches out, my fingers close around the base, and I bring it down on Lou’s skull as hard as I can before lifting it and repeating the process.

His body slumps on top of me, nearly suffocating me with the full force of his weight. I drop the lamp and push at his shoulders before I finally manage to get out from under him. Lou slumps onto the floor. I don’t stop to see if he’s come to yet. Instead, I scoot across the bed and run. Out the door, down the stairs, and through a kitchen.

That’s where I stop when my eyes land on the wooden block sitting on the counter. I pull out the knife with the biggest handle. I will not be helpless. I have no idea what makes me do it, but I find myself walking back up the stairs. And into the bedroom. Lou is still sprawled out on the floor. Seemingly unconscious. That doesn’t stop me from falling to my knees beside him. I lift the knife above his chest, and with as much strength as I can muster, I bring it down. It takes a lot more force to stab someone than you would think. My hands tremble and my muscles ache.

“Fuck you, asshole,” I scream as I lift the knife and stab him again. Over and over until my body is drained of energy. I have nothing left.

Then I drop the bloody knife to the floor and dig through Lou’s pockets. I sigh when my fingers wrap around a phone. I tap on the screen and it lights up.

“Shit.”

What the fuck is the password?

I can’t even begin to guess so I pick up his limp hand and press each of his fingertips to the button on the side, hoping one of them will unlock the screen. When I get to his pinky, I finally hit pay dirt.

“Who uses their pinky to open their phone?” I question aloud as I type in my dad’s number.

“Hello?” His voice sounds strained. Tentative.

“Daddy,” I sob with relief.

“Liliana, baby, where are you?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Stop the fucking car,” Dad yells to whoever’s in the background before returning his focus to me. “Liliana, I need you to stay on the line. Are you… are you okay?”

“I’m okay. But I need you to come and get me,” I tell him as tears run down my face.

“I’m coming. Just stay on the line,” he repeats. Then he’s talking to someone else again. “I have her on the phone. Find out where this call is coming from. Now.” I hear some shuffling. “Liliana, Zia Romeo is pinning your location now.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“This is not your fault, baby. Remember the flowers, Liliana. What was your favorite color rose again?” Dad asks me.

I look around the room. “Red,” I tell him. The question is code, a way to let him know if there’s anyone else with me. Red represents blood. It means I’m the only one here who’s still breathing. It tells him I’m alone.

I can hear him sigh into the phone. “I love you, Liliana, and I’m coming for you.”

“I love you too. I’m sorry I doubted you, Daddy. I’m so sorry.”

“Zia Romeo has your location. We’re ten minutes out. Do not hang up, baby.”

“Dad, Travis… I…”

“He’s right here, Lil. He’s right next to me, and we’re coming,” Dad says.

Then I hear his voice. “Lili, I’m coming for you.”

“I’m sorry.” I’m a broken record, I know. But it seems to be the only thing I can say. “I love you, and I messed everything up. I know that. I… I was coming to see you. I wanted to tell you.”

“Lili, you haven’t messed anything up. I love you. I will always love you,” Travis says.

I hear the screeching of tires.

“We’re here, sweetheart,” Dad says as the sounds of heavy footsteps echo through the house. I push to my feet and walk to the doorway right as Travis lands at the top of the stairs.

He rushes forward, his arms wrapping around me tighter than they ever have before. “Fuck,” he curses as he pulls back to look me up and down. “Are you hurt? What the fuck did that bastard do to you?”

“Nothing. It’s… it’s not my blood,” I tell him as my dad and brother push through the bedroom door with their nines raised. Then I hear the gunshots, one after another. When I peer back inside the room, I see my father standing over Lou’s body.

He returns his nine to its holster, walks over to me, and cups my face in his hands. “I’m sorry it took so long,” he says.

“It’s okay. I knew you would find me.” I give him a small smile, and he presses his lips to my forehead.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart.”

The whole time my father is talking to me, Travis is here too. His grip tight as he stands as close to me as he can get. He bends at the waist and picks me up.

“No, put me down. You can’t carry me!”

“The hell I can’t,” he grunts as we descend the stairs.

“Travis O’Neil, you’re going to pop a stitch!” I tell him.