Chapter 29 Angel
Angel
Explosions rocked the grounds. The sound of them was not at all familiar, but I knew what they were—and they were just what I needed them to be. A distraction. Before he could react, I barreled into Blade and took him to the ground.
The knife in my hand turned and I slammed it into his side, enjoying the satisfying shout of pain that escaped his lips.
The doors blew open and several men barged inside as I withdrew the blade and then scrambled away.
Holding the knife up, I stared wide-eyed as the ginger from earlier growled and stormed forward.
A sharp pop sounded somewhere from the hallway and he froze for the briefest of moments. His eyes went down, and I followed the trail, spotting a large dark spot forming in the center of his chest. Blood.
Acting on instinct, I dove forward as he collapsed to his knees.
My hands went to his side and I ripped the gun strapped there from its holster.
Turning, I took aim and pulled the trigger.
Once. Twice. A third time. Both men on either side of the ginger went down like piles of bricks before they could even draw their own weapons.
The recognizable sound of my sister’s shrieking dragged me forward.
I stepped over the bodies and stumbled into the hallway, falling into the wall as my foot slipped.
Liquid slid down the front of my aching, burning legs.
My earlier stab wound wasn’t much better.
Who the hell had killed Ginger? I looked down the hall and frowned as a man decked in all black was shooting around the corner.
I dimly recognized him as the man from the sex club—Ian.
What the hell is he doing here? I wondered.
I didn’t have to wonder for long. He turned and cast a look back and blinked when he spotted me. “Get over here!” he snapped.
He was here with Gaven then, I realized.
Hurriedly, I scrambled after him, the sounds of screaming and more gunshots ringing throughout the house and getting louder.
The smell of gunpowder permeated the hallway.
I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall as I got to the man.
My body ached and my head threatened to cave in on itself.
“Are you okay?”
That question had me reopening my eyes as Ian hovered over me, his brow scrunched in concern. I parted my lips to reply, but as I did, he turned away again and pressed something inserted in his ear.
“Hey, this is Marshall. I've got the target with me. She’s wounded. She’ll need treatment.”
“I’m fine,” I defended. “I can make it out of here.”
He looked back at me and his expression remained concerned and doubtful. He shook his head and then grabbed my good arm, pulling me away from the wall. “Come, we’ve got to move. This part of the estate is under fire.”
That much was for sure. I didn’t argue with him as he led me around the corner and down another hallway. It’d been five years since I’d been home, and despite the obvious changes that had been made while I’d been away, I still recognized we were heading for the bottom floor towards the foyer.
I turned my head as we passed other hallways on our way down.
I’d heard Jackie scream earlier, but where was she?
Was she already dead? For some reason, I didn’t like that.
No, I didn’t want Jackie to die and disappear from my view.
I wanted to see it. I wanted to watch the light dim from her eyes the same way she’d watched our father’s.
She deserved that. To see her own failure.
“Wait!” I shouted as I pulled up short. “My client! There’s another man here, his name is Ronald Wiser. We have to get him.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Ian snapped. “One of my men already found him.” He frowned back at me. “You should really worry more about yourself.” His gaze panned down to my bloody legs.
“I told you I was fine,” I reminded him tartly.
His lips twitched, and the frown eased slightly. “God, you remind me of my wife.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. “America?” I confirmed.
He nodded and then his grip on my arm turned hard.
He yanked me to a stop so fast I swore my arm was about to pop out of my socket.
“Fuck!” I cursed and tugged my arm from his grip as I turned to see why he had done it.
We were standing at the top of the stairs that led down into the foyer and as I scanned the area, I stopped on the figure standing before the wide open front doors.
In the time since I’d last seen her, Jackie’s face had reddened considerably around her nose where I’d broken it.
She had a newly patched white strip over it, however, as she stood there, her sheath dress ripped in various places and her heels missing.
Her hair was half undone—one side tied to the back of her skull and the other with several strands sticking out wildly.
In her hand, she clutched a handgun pointed directly at us.
“You’re not getting away this time, Angel!” she shrieked. “I won’t fucking have it. You won’t take this from me. You’ve taken everything else that was supposed to be mine!”
The gun in my hand felt both heavy and light as I lifted it. Her eyes widened and then she sneered. “You don’t have the fucking guts to shoot me, you fucking cunt.”
“You sure about that, Jackie?” I asked plainly.
With a violent scream, her arm jerked back as her gun discharged with each shot, but her aim was off.
She shot up the staircase, bullets pelting the wood as she unloaded.
I didn’t wait for her to actually hit me.
Even as Ian grabbed ahold of me and tried to pull me back—away from the line of fire—I couldn’t let this opportunity pass me by. Not again.
I lifted my arm and pointed my own gun and pulled the trigger. The litter of bullets into wood halted immediately, and Jackie’s eyes widened before she looked up at me.
“Angel!” Distantly, I heard Gaven’s shout and then he was streaking through the foyer.
Jackie blinked up at me, as if she couldn’t quite believe it. Ian stopped trying to move me. Gaven’s much larger form barreled right into her and I watched in almost slow motion as she went down beneath him.
The gun in her hand went flying, skittering across the hardwood floor as her head bounced once, twice on the floor, and then stopped. “Gaven, don’t!” Ian shouted. Gaven’s fist was pulled back, his own gun aimed downward, but at Ian’s call, he stopped.
All at once, he seemed to realize what I’d done.
Jackie’s eyes were open—staring up at the ceiling frame of her childhood home’s front doorway. I gently pulled away from Ian and, this time, he released me. I descended the staircase, holding onto the railing as I moved around the bullet holes, not stopping until I reached Gaven and Jackie.
She wheezed as blood trailed up through her breasts to rest in the hollow of her throat. Gaven looked from her to me and then frowned, confusion filling his expression.
“You … shot her?”
I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. I dropped the gun to the floor and leaned down, going to my knees next to them.
The open cuts on my thighs screamed in agony, but I ignored them.
“You wanted to know the truth, Gaven?” My sister’s eyes moved to me and her lips parted, but no words escaped.
“She was the one who killed Raffaello Price—Jackie killed our father. Not me. After we were married, I never planned to leave you like that, but I found them, and … she threatened to frame you if I didn’t run. ”
“Angel…”
Jackie coughed and a smattering of blood left her lips, dotting her cheeks and chin.
I leaned over her and Gaven backed up. Pressing my hand into the center of her chest, right where I’d shot her, I dug my nails into my sister’s body, wanting to see her feel the pain—even if it wasn’t the same kind of pain I'd experienced when she’d killed our father and took my life from me.
She bore her teeth at me and wheezed out an agonized breath. “Does it hurt?” I asked her.
“F-fuck you … you b-bitch.”
“No, Jackie.” I reached for Gaven’s gun, feeling like it was only perfect justice.
She took from him, too, after all. Five years gone.
Five years that I could’ve been at his side, forming his empire as his Queen.
Five years I’d had to run, hoping to protect him from her when I should’ve done this all along.
Five years without my father … all because of her.
Everything that had been taken from me for the last half a decade was because of her.
So much could have been different, but worst of all, I knew that if I let her go, if I let her live and I gave into the small piece of me that just wanted to go back in time before everything had blown up in my face, this anxiety I felt would never end.
She would always be there. If she lived, even if she was locked away somewhere, I’d always wonder when she’d escape. When she would come for me.
I was tired of that. Exhausted by all of the running and hiding. I wasn’t willing to do it anymore. So, this was it. This was the end of her and our relationship. My finger slid over his on the trigger and we lifted the barrel together until it was aimed at her face.
“Fuck you, Jackie.” The trigger compressed and the pop of the gun echoed in my head. Her face caved inward, right in the center of her forehead—a circular burn forming right where the bullet entered, and suddenly, the light that had been dying moments before was no more.
Jacquelina Price was no more, and now, I was the last living Price Heir.
“Angel.” My hand fell away from Gaven’s gun and I gasped for breath.
All at once, the pain in my body slammed into me. From my shoulder to my legs, I felt it. The adrenaline was draining quickly and my vision went blurry. “Shit.” Gaven’s curse reached my ears a split-second before his strong arms closed around me.
I felt myself being lifted against his broad chest. “I-I’m sorry,” I said. “S-so sorry, Gaven. I didn’t—”
“Shhhh.” Warm lips touched my forehead. “Quiet, Angel. Just let me take care of you now.”
“I-I never said it,” I told him. “But I think I … I love you.”
The body against mine seemed to freeze. “What did you say?”
My eyes closed as the world around me threatened to spiral into darkness. “Love you,” I murmured. “It’s over now … I won’t … I won’t leave again. Promise.”
The chest against my side expanded with a shuddering breath. Gaven’s low voice rumbled against my ear. “No, you won’t,” he said. “I’ve got you now, Angel, and you’re going nowhere ever again.”
I wanted to respond. I really did. But the surge of adrenaline was already gone, fleeing my system like ants from a burning pile. The world was becoming hazier. Sounds fading. The only thing I knew was that the last thing I felt was the heat of my husband’s body against my own.
If this is how it ends, I thought to myself before losing consciousness entirely. Then becoming a killer wasn’t so bad.