Chapter 41 #2
“To think that my father has allowed the Juarez family here with open arms. Welcomed you all into our family. United us by blood and marriage.” Tipping my head, I asked, “And this is how you repay our kindness? Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you?
Turn that battery on and just wait for you to fry? Let you smell your own skin cooking?”
"They're moving on Friday." He wheezed, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth.
His eyes, already glazing over, locked onto mine with desperate intensity.
"His men have failed over and over again to bring her too him and Juarez doesn't trust your old man to deliver. He's taking your sister himself."
We knew that based on what Elin and I had learned at the Lounge, but to have it confirmed from another source ignited the fire of rage within me.
I tapped it down, knowing I had to keep a cool head here.
Just for a little while longer at least. I pressed the handkerchief harder against the bullet wound in his chest, but we both knew it was an act at this point.
He was just another body I'd have to dispose of before dawn.
"Friday? That's in two days." My voice remained steady even as my mind raced. "What about the wedding arrangements?"
Ricky's laugh turned into a wet cough. "What wedding? That was always bullshit. He just wants her as leverage against your father. The things he's planning to do to her—" His body convulsed, and then he was gone, secrets and warnings dying with him.
“Fuck!” I kicked the chair he was sitting in, and it toppled over with him in it, blood now pooling at his chest.
My phone vibrated against my thigh. Elin's smirking face lit up the screen from the photo I'd taken of her lying in bed when I’d been sassing her. She’d thought me talking back was funny. I had too, until I’d tried to sit down an hour later.
I pressed my cell to my ear, turning away from Ricky's body. Blood had begun seeping into the concrete. "Twenty minutes," I said, already calculating the fastest route across town.
"Your voice is tight." The familiar sound of her coffee mug hitting the counter punctuated her words.
I glanced down at my knuckles, raw and flecked with someone else's blood. "Working." I lowered my voice. "And the walls have ears."
I ended the call and looked around the warehouse, the metallic scent of blood hanging heavy in the air.
I had to move fast. I wiped Ricky's blood off my hands onto my jeans, then grabbed my jacket from a nearby crate, shrugging it on as I headed toward the exit.
The night outside was cold and unforgiving, but there was no time to waste.
Two hours later, I was pacing across Elin's living room, explaining everything while she watched me with those calculating eyes. She sat perfectly still on her couch, my Goddess.
"And Juarez plans to take Rhea before any wedding actually happens," she summarized. "Your father either doesn’t believe you or he’s sanctioned it, because he's convinced this alliance is the answer to everything."
"He believes whatever he wants to believe," I said, grabbing my jacket from the back of the chair. "I'm done playing his games. Rico's documents won't be ready. We need to move Rhea tomorrow morning."
Elin's eyebrows shot up. "Tomorrow? That's—"
"Necessary," I finished. "Whatever safe location you have in mind, we need to get her there before Juarez makes his move. I have connections that can buy us time, but not much."
The sound of footsteps made us both turn. Rhea stood in the doorway, her dark hair pulled back in a messy bun, wearing one of my old T-shirts that hung to her knees.
"Safe location?" she asked, her voice small but steady. "What's going on?"
I exchanged a glance with Elin, who nodded slightly. “It’s ready.”
"We're moving you tomorrow," I told her, crossing the room to take her hands. "Things have accelerated. Juarez is planning to take you on Friday—no wedding, just . . ." I couldn't finish the sentence.
Rhea's face paled, but she squared her shoulders and stood a little taller. "Where are we going?"
"Not we," Elin said, standing up. "Just you. I have a place where you'll be safe until your new identity is ready. And not lake house safe. Not my safe room. Somewhere you can be comfortable and almost forget where you are."
"Where is it?" Rhea asked, looking between us. "Some cabin in the woods? Another city?"
Elin shook her head. "I can't tell you that. Not yet. The fewer people who know, the safer you'll be."
"But Gav knows, right?" Rhea turned to me, eyes pleading.
"No," I admitted. "I don't know either. That's how we're keeping you safe."
Rhea's eyes widened. "No offense, Elin, but Gav, you trust her with—"
"With my life," I said firmly. "Which means I trust her with yours."
Elin moved closer, her presence somehow both commanding and comforting. "No one knows about this place. Not your brother, not anyone who might be connected to either of your worlds. And I'll never tell, Rhea. No matter what."
“What happens if Father kills you?”
Elin let out a harsh breath. “If you don’t hear from me in a month—” I put my hand up when her eyes went wide.
“You can call Gavriel from a secure phone in the house. For the record, you can stay there for six months or longer depending on how much you eat. It’s hooked to water and sewer.
It was built to have someone disappear for a long while. ”
Rhea studied her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "When do we leave?"
"Dawn," I said. "Pack light. One bag, essentials only."
"This is really happening," Rhea whispered, more to herself than to us. "I'm just . . . disappearing."
The weight of what we were doing settled over the room. My sister would vanish, become someone else entirely. Claire Maddox, an accountant from Phoenix. No more Rhea Azzaro. No more family dinners. No more late-night talks about books and dreams.
"We should make tonight count," Elin said suddenly, breaking the somber mood. "If tomorrow starts a new chapter, let's close this one properly."
Rhea looked up, confusion replacing fear for a moment. "What do you mean?"
"Movie night," Elin declared. "Your choice. All those terrible romantic comedies you love."
A smile tugged at the corner of Rhea's mouth. "Even the one with the talking dog that Gav hates?"
"Especially that one," Elin said, shooting me a challenging look.
I groaned dramatically, but inside relief washed through me. One last normal night before everything changed.
"Fine," I conceded. "But I'm making the popcorn. Elin burns it every time."
"I do not," Elin protested. "I enhance the flavor profile."
Rhea actually laughed, the sound so wholesome it made my chest ache. "You do burn it," she told Elin. "It's charcoal with salt."
I headed toward the kitchen, listening to them bicker good-naturedly behind me.
As I pulled out the popcorn and set the pot on the stove, I realized just how out of control I felt.
Not from fear, but from the weight of what was coming.
Tomorrow, I'd say goodbye to my sister, possibly forever.
I'd send her away with only Elin knowing where, trusting that my Goddess could keep her safe when I couldn't.
My thoughts kept circling around how I was a failure, but was I really?
I was helping Rhea get to safety. I was making sure she was not going to be in Juarez’s hands.
I found myself staring out the window as the oil began to heat in the pot.
When it sputtered, I dropped in a test kernel and watched it spin in the golden liquid.
In two days, Juarez would come looking for his bride and find nothing.
My father would rage, demanding answers.
The fragile peace between our families would shatter.
And I would be caught in the middle, playing both sides until Rhea was safely away with her new identity.
The kernel popped, hitting the lid with a sharp ping. I added the rest, watching them dance in the hot oil. Soon, everything would change. But tonight, we'd pretend it was just another evening. We'd laugh at stupid movies, eat popcorn, and act like tomorrow wasn't the end of everything we knew.
The popcorn began popping in earnest, a crescendo of tiny explosions. I shook the pot, feeling the weight shift as the kernels transformed.
"Hurry up!" Rhea called from the living room. "The movie's about to start!"
"Coming!" I called back, pouring the popcorn into a large bowl, adding butter and salt.
Just one more night of normalcy. One more memory to hold on to when everything fell apart. Just one more day. We could do this.
I carried the bowl back to the living room, where Elin had already settled on the couch, Rhea curled up beside her with a blanket.
They both looked up as I entered, and for a moment, I saw what might have been in another life—a simple family night, without the shadow of cartels and arranged marriages and fake identities hanging over us.
"Did you burn it?" Rhea asked, reaching for the bowl.
"Perfect, as always," I replied, settling on Rhea's other side. "Unlike some people’s in this room."
Elin threw a pillow at me as the movie's opening credits began to roll. I caught it one-handed, grinning despite everything.