Chapter 11 Faith #2
My gun safe sits in my closet, the combination my mother's death date.
The lock clicks open, and the weight of the weapon feels both foreign and right in my trembling hands.
All that legal research, and here I am reaching for my gun like some vigilante.
Like Luca. The thought makes me sick. Am I becoming him?
But Janine is in that theater right now, in the dark with T.N.
, probably confused why his hand keeps moving higher on her thigh, probably too polite to say stop.
My phone explodes as I shove the gun into my purse.
"What are you doing?"
I ignore it, searching for my keys, my hands shaking so bad I drop them twice.
"Faith. Answer me."
How does he know? Cameras. Of course there are cameras. Part of me hates the invasion, but another part feels safer knowing he's watching. Even now, even as I'm about to do something stupid.
A third text message arrives. "You're putting on the dress. Why?"
Still ignoring him, I grab my phone and keys.
"Where are you going?"
"That's your gun from the safe."
He knows everything. Every move I make, every breath I take. But he's not here. He can't stop me.
"Wait for me."
The texts come faster now, still controlled but urgent:
"Faith, stop."
"Whatever you're planning."
"Three minutes away."
"Do not leave that apartment."
"I'll handle Neumann myself."
"Just wait."
But I can't wait. Every second I hesitate is another second Janine is alone with him. Another second for him to do to her what he's done to all the others. What he did to my mother.
I burst through my apartment door, heels clicking against the hallway floor as I run for the stairs. Three minutes, he said. That means I have maybe two before he's here, before he stops me, before his protection becomes imprisonment.
The parking garage echoes with my footsteps, the red dress making it hard to run but I don't care. I've already lost too long. I won't lose another minute.
My phone vibrates nonstop as I fumble with my car keys.
"I see you in the garage."
"Stop."
"Faith, listen."
"He's dangerous when cornered."
"Let me handle this."
"Get back here. Now."
"FAITH."
I throw the phone on the passenger seat and start the engine.
The leather steering wheel burns under my grip, slick with sweat.
The red dress rides up my thighs as I drive.
The premiere venue is fifteen minutes away if I speed.
Janine has already been alone with him for ninety minutes. That's ninety minutes too many.
The tires squeal as I pull out of the garage, nearly clipping the security barrier.
Behind me, Luca's headlights strobe through my mirrors like a pulse, like his hands reaching for me through the darkness.
Three minutes behind like he promised. Always watching, always following, always trying to protect me from the world.
But tonight I don't need protection. Tonight I need to be the sword instead of the shield.
How many Janines have there been while I played the long game? How many women broken or dead because I chose legal justice over immediate action?
Not tonight. Not Janine. Not again.
My hands steady on the wheel as I blow through a red light. Let Luca follow. Let him watch. Let him see what happens when you push good girls too far.
The gun weighs heavy in my purse, a promise and a threat combined.
My father's gun, loaded with the bullets he bought to protect us after Mom died.
Iron justice for monsters the law won't touch.
My hands don't shake anymore. Twelve years of being good, and all it takes is one photo to make me my mother's daughter.
Ready to fight back with everything except words.
Behind me, those headlights get closer, Luca pushing his car to its limits. But I know these streets better, know every shortcut from years of memorizing escape routes.
Two more turns and I'll be there. Two more turns and I'll stop another lamb from being slaughtered.
My phone lights up on the passenger seat, screen bright in the darkness. Not multiple texts now. Just one:
"When I catch you, little faith, you're going to beg."
The threat makes me press harder on the accelerator even as heat pools between my thighs, the red silk dress riding higher with each gear shift. His dress. Marking me as his even as I race toward another man. Behind me, those headlights get closer. Not just following anymore. Hunting.
The leather seat is already damp beneath me, my body responding to his pursuit even as my mind stays focused on Janine.
This is what we are together: violence and desire tangled so tight I can't separate them anymore.
He's going to catch me. We both know it.
The only question is whether I save her first.
One more turn. My finger finds the gun's safety, clicking it off. The metal is cold against the heat building between my legs, the contrast making me shiver.
Come catch me, Luca. But I'm saving her first.
Then you can do whatever you want to me.