Chapter 38 #2
“He didn’t have a choice, Anna.” I brushed her hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear.
“But he loosened up after some time.” I swallowed.
“He shouldn’t have. He taught me everything.
He thought of me as a…” I didn’t want to cloud her judgment.
“As a colleague.” That was better. “But it wasn’t enough.
Not for my father. He didn’t like the power your father had on our finances.
” I scrubbed my hand over my face. How the fuck do I tell her it was all me?
“Worse.” My heartbeat raced in my chest. “He didn’t like the power he had… ” I licked my lips.
Her questioning gaze settled on me.
The truth came out through an agonized sigh. “He had over me.”
She stared at me. Unblinking. I didn’t think she understood me.
“Stella mia…” I searched her eyes. She had to know the truth. It was what would get her to avenge his death. “He died,” I choked, “because of me.”
She was static before me, with the color of her skin washed away to a hospital white. Seventy-three seconds passed. Each second ticked like a time bomb.
“Did you understand me?” I tipped her chin. “I was the reason he was butchered.”
Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing. She just stared at me. She terrified me.
“Christ, Anna.” I gripped her by the shoulders and shook her. Willing her color back. Her fury. Her goddamn revenge plan. “If it hadn’t been for me, he’d still be alive.” I hissed. “If I hadn’t learned everything, he’d still be here.”
She shook her head slightly. I continued because she wasn’t getting it.
My voice rose with each conviction, delivering proof after proof.
“If he hadn’t been an influence on me, you’d be home now with him.
Don’t you get that? Hell, your mother would still be alive.
You’d be happy. You’d have a different life. You’d be—”
“No.”
“What?”
She shook her head. Speaking the idiotic word louder. “No.”
“You’re being a fucking idiot.”
“No.” She shook her head wildly. “No. No. No.”
“Jesus Christ.” I let go of her and clutched the back of my head.
Her breathing was escalating. Mine was thumping out of my rib cage. “Did you kill him?” Her voice cracked.
“I just said I did.”
“Did you…” She squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled deeply before opening them again. “Stab him?”
I groaned. “No. I shot him.”
She nodded slowly. Stared at me, but she wasn’t seeing me. It was something else playing out in her memory, then she frowned. “Papá wasn’t shot. I remember now.”
I groaned. “I missed.”
She stayed quiet, but after a few breaths, she asked, “Do you do that a lot?”
“Fuck, it doesn’t matter, Anna. I killed him.” I grabbed the knife from under the pillow and wrapped her hand around it. Her entire body trembled in my lap. Fuck. Maybe I should just eat the poison. I steadied her hold. “You can do this.” I eased my tone.
She stared at the knife. Her hands were ice beneath mine. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly. She fought to take a deep breath and failed. “I killed your father,” she said in a shaky tone.
“You didn’t,” I assured her.
“I. Poisoned. Him.”
“And he survived.”
Her shocked gaze flew to mine. “What?” she choked.
“He would have survived. If I hadn’t walked into his hotel room, he would have lived for another fucking day, a year, fuck knows for how long.”
She clutched her head with one hand. “How did he die then?” She sought my gaze desperately. “He is dead. Right?”
“Without a doubt.”
“You killed him.” Her voice cracked.
I didn’t see the point of denying the truth.
Her breath heaved. Her voice built up in tone. “I can’t do this. I won’t do this.” She struggled to release the knife. I tightened my grip. “No.” her tone was bordering on hysterical. “I won’t do this. I can’t. Won’t.”
“Shhh…” My thumb soothed her racing pulse point. “You can do this. Just think of your father.”
“I am thinking of him, puto gilipollas,” she screamed, her gaze whipping to mine.
Fuck. She was going to back out. I’d have to help her, but her closure could only come if she initiated it. “You must,” I insisted.
She fought to scramble away from me. I couldn’t have that. “And if you can’t, I’ll do it.” Whipping her hand up, I yanked it toward my neck.
She screamed a blood-curdling scream. It distracted me momentarily. The force of her movement shook me. Her hand twisted. The knife punctured me.
Her scream froze my heart to ice. The hollowness of it, the pain, the rage, the desolation twisted my insides.
My hold on her dropped. She stumbled off me. “Shhh… stella mia, it’s okay. I’m fine…”
“No.” Her raw cry echoed through the room as she hysterically pulled at me and shoved me off at the same time. “No. No. No.”
Footsteps thundered, and the door flew open. The doctor burst in with her medical bag. She took one look at my bleeding shoulder and rushed over to me.
“No,” I snapped. “You need to calm her down.”
She dared to hesitate. “But you’re—”
“I told you my wife was your fucking patient.” I shoved her away from me and toward Anna, who was crawling away from me to the corner of the room. “Do it now before I fucking off you myself.”
She staggered back and fumbled for her syringe. But when she pulled it out, Anna lost it entirely. Jesus Christ. She pulled the closet door open and tried to crawl into it. And knowing why she was doing it made me want to stab my fucking heart out and make her play darts with it.
“I don’t think I can sedate her.”
“You’d think.” I shoved her away. “Get the fuck out of here if you can’t handle my wife.”
“But I—”
I didn’t register the nonsense coming out of her and moved toward Anna. Instead of dying down, her screams intensified at the sight of the blood oozing out of my shoulder.
“For fuck’s sake.” I ripped my shirt off, twisted it, rolled it under my arm, and tied it into a knot.
Then I forced myself to slow down and walk toward her before sinking to my knees.
She squeezed herself into a tight ball. I dragged her into my arms, and even though she fought me like a wildcat, I gripped her chin and pressed my lips to hers.
She gasped and sobbed. Her nails scraped lines down my skin.
But I gripped her chilled body tightly to mine.
Heartbeats fighting together, mixing, churning, and struggling to find a rhythm.
She escaped my grip and yanked her mouth away, burying her head in my chest. Her hands pinched my skin as they crawled all over me, but slowly her screaming melted into painful whimpers.
I pulled away to follow her movements. Eyes wide open, she was tracing my tattoos.
From hip to shoulder to arm. My entire left side where bougainvillea vines climbed and reached for her star around my heart.
Interwoven in it was her name. Again and again.
A lone sob wretched from her chest. A shiver vibrated through her body.
I gathered her closer, threading my hand through her hair. “You’re safe,” I whispered over and over again as she dragged her fingers over my skin, and finally, finally stopped sobbing entirely and fell into an exhausted sleep.