37. Fiora

That fucking hurt.

My head throbs, and my vision is still blurry from Marco's sudden attack. I cling to the handle of the car door, desperately trying to pop it open to no avail. Marco has the door locked, leaving me with no way to escape.

Why did he suddenly attack me? It hurts to think, but it's better than focusing on the rush-hour traffic on the I-5. All the lights make the headache even worse.

Come on, Fiora. What did Marco say just before he fucking slammed your head against the top of the car? It is all such a whirlwind. He complimented me, asked me to go somewhere quieter to talk. I refused because it was his idea to go to that Denny's in the first place. It was our late-night haunt when we went to university. It was our place. I wanted to leave him and those memories behind there.

Only Marco had different ideas.

"Quit playing, Fiora," Marco spits. He drums his fingers against the steering wheel when he gets stuck behind a semi, the sound like a jackhammer in my rattled brain. "I didn't hit you that hard."

I don't answer him. I'm still trying to figure out what the hell he said to me.

"Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?" He laughs so bitterly it makes me cringe. "Or maybe that tongue is busy doing other things? Congrats on the engagement."

"You already knew. When you called me a whore, remember?" I spit back.

My mouth tastes like iron. Did I crack a tooth? Cut my lip? I glance in the side mirror and see a small gash just below my nose. The top of his car must have busted something.

I need to gain my bearings. Papa always said things like this could happen, and I needed to be ready for anything. Kidnappings, beatings, rape, murder. Everything is possible when the Godwin family makes enemies. And in my father's line of work, there are plenty of enemies and traitors where that came from.

I just never expected the enemy to be Marco. He's been by my side for years now. Has always been a gentleman. Hopped at the chance to help the Godwin family and get in Papa's good graces. Treated me with respect until I became a taken woman. Is that the reason for this whole bullshit? Jealousy? Pride? It can't be. There must be something more. Something I'm missing.

"Truth hurts," he cuts in. I wince when he lays on the horn to make the semi move. "I just call it like I see it."

"Then let me call it like I see it. You're a jealous pissant with a small dick who?—"

Marco shoots out his hand and wraps his fingers so tightly around my throat I can't breathe. He looks like a wild animal, eyes wide and bloodshot, black hair messy and sticking up, teeth bared. I punch and claw at his hands but it's no use. He keeps hold on me until I'm light-headed, my vision going blurry.

I'm going to die here. Marco is going to kill me and dump my body in the Sound. All because I didn't fucking choose him. Before she died, Mama always told me to trust my intuition. She said it is a girl's best weapon in all the darkness.

How could my intuition have been so fucking wrong?

"Marco," I beg, the word half-whisper, half-cough.

Behind us, three people lay on their horns. The stretch of highway in front of us is open. It's the only reason Marco lets go. I crumple against the cool glass of the passenger's seat door, my entire body shaking with my coughs. I try to suck in a few breaths, but it's too painful. No more stoking his anger. Rule number one is keeping him calm so I can find an escape route. At least until I can get to rule number two: run like hell.

"All those years I wasted trying to get in your graces and your pants," he mocks. "And for what? You're a traitorous bitch, Fiora. Throwing yourself at the first rich man who gives you the time of day. How's his dick taste, huh? Rich and bougie?"

I stay silent. Think, Fiora, think. Back to Denny's. Marco pleaded to go elsewhere. I said no. Someone slammed a car door. Marco looked over. I saw stars. And then…

"Have your bitch on our tail, huh? Get in, Fiora."

I intake a sharp breath.

Braken.

I scan the side view mirror. Is he following us? Was he there the whole time? I can't make out his car in the traffic behind us, but there are so many cars. It's rush hour now, and we are barely inching along. He and Jasper could be somewhere back there, coming for me.

But what if they're not? What if it's too late? What if I'm left to fend for myself because of Friday night traffic?

I must search for Braken for a moment too long, because Marco swings out a hand and manages to backhand my temple. I yelp in surprise, shrinking away from him.

"I knew you were having us followed, you bitch. All you know how to do is ruin my plans. All my effort, fucking wasted."

His plans? What does that mean? Clearly whatever "plan" he had in that fucking Denny's parking lot went south. But that's only one, and he used the plural. What could the others be?

As Marco swerves around a truck, I think back to the first time we met. He sat next to me in class and struck up an easy conversation. He was older, but apparently, he finally knew what he wanted… only to drop out at the end of the semester to become a cop.

God, it's so fucking obvious.

"You knew who I was, didn't you?"

Marco barks out a laugh. "Sweetheart, everyone knows who you are. Why do you think they kiss your ass?"

So much for not caring about family. That was the only thing Marco cared about. What else was a lie? His affection? His appearance at the charity auction? Every time he gave a shit about me?

The truth cages me in more than this shitty car. I don't know who Marco Pollozo is, and I'm stuck here with a strange madman.

I pat the pocket of my jeans and curse. My phone isn't there. It's in my purse, which I dropped when Marco pushed me into the car. If I can figure out where we're going, I can formulate a plan and get out of this mess.

I need to keep him talking.

"What else are you going to tell me, huh, Marco? Might as well lay it all on the table now." I try the door handle again with no luck. "Are you stalking me?"

"Stalking is a crime. Tailing is my job."

I scoff. "Is that why you became a cop? To skirt the law?"

"I became a cop to put away pieces of shit like you and your family."

I force myself not to roll my eyes. I don't want to do anything that triggers his anger.

"So what, put us away so you can suck the dick of the commissioner and get a promotion?"

"That's your job, not mine." Marco gives me a toothy grin. That same grin used to fill my stomach with butterflies, but now it only fills me with dread. "Now shut your damn mouth. You talk way too fucking much."

"And if I don't?" I challenge. "What are you going to do, throw me out of the car?"

"There's plenty of other things you can do with a car."

Someone behind us honks, but I barely hear it. Marco's words swim through my head, replaying again and again. Normally such an innocent statement wouldn't mean shit, but clearly Marco has a vendetta against our family. Which means…

No. It can't be.

"You killed Mason."

It slips out as a whisper. Someone behind us honks again. Marco ignores me, checking his rearview mirror as he fishes in the front pocket of his plaid button-up for a cigarette. Why isn't he answering?

Marco lights the cigarette and cuts across two lanes so quickly I grab the safety handle. Someone behind us honks again, but I barely hear it. Blood rushes to my brain, my heartbeat drumming in my ears.

Some guy bugging Mason before his death. The case getting stalled. Marco ignoring my pleas for justice. His anger when I kept pressing the issue. His blowup at the restaurant.

His plans.

"You killed my fucking brother."

Marco takes a drag of his cigarette, looks right at me, and smirks. "Took you long enough."

I move before I think. I launch myself at Marco and grab onto his hair, tugging as hard as I can. Marco's head bounces off the driver's side window, and he jerks the car to the left. His car swipes another before he rights it, and the honking grows louder.

I'm going to fucking kill him. Rage boils my blood and makes my hands shake. I punch Marco as hard as I can, over and over and over. He killed Mason. He took my brother from me. Marco tries to fight me off with one hand, but I hold steady, scratching and pulling until strands of his hair are in my sore fists.

Someone is screaming. I think it's me, but I can't be sure. I go for his eyes, ready to scratch his eyeballs out. But I'm cut off with an elbow to my jaw and a punch to the side of my head. The moves stun me long enough for Marco to push me back into my seat.

"You bitch! You're fucking dead, you hear me? Dead!"

Nausea churns in my stomach and I gag, bile and blood ready to spill all over Marco's floor. Someone is drilling into my skull over and over. Bang. Bang. Bang.

No, wait. Honk. Honk. Honk.

"Fuck me," Marco whispers, reaching past me to get into his glove box.

I take my chance and reach out for his arm, biting as hard as I can. Marco cries out in pain, swerving the car so hard I go flying. My head bounces off the glass, and I fall limp into the seat, the fight drained from my tired body.

"Insistent fucking bastard. Say goodbye, Fiora."

With bleary eyes. I glance into the side view mirror.

Braken's car is right behind us. Braken is coming for me. The small piece of hope I have is dashed the second Marco pulls a siren from the glove box. He cracks his window, throws it onto the top of his car, and turns it on. Police sirens ring out and make me wince in pain.

The flashing lights and loud siren make the freeway part like the Red Sea.

Marco hits the gas as fast as he can, weaving through the line of cars.

I can only watch helplessly as the outline of Braken's car grows smaller and smaller, sealing my fate.