What?
My heart shrinks in on itself.
No.
My breathing comes in faster, and the blood rushes out of my face, leaving me pale and cold. This can’t be happening.
Sitting up in my seat, I ask a hushed, “What?”
His expression impossibly hard, he repeats himself, “Bounce.” I don’t move. I don’t believe him. He doesn’t mean what he’s saying. His words come out hoarse, as he utters a callous, “Get out of the car, Alejandra.”
I’m still sleeping. This is all a dream.
My body stiff with shock, I blink over at him, unable to speak. But I don’t need to. Julius speaks for the both of us, and it rips me to shreds. “Didn’t think hard enough about what it meant to be your husband. Never dealt with this kind of headfuck before. Every day you’re with me is a day distracted. No.” He shakes his head. “You gotta go.”
Oh, my God. He changed his mind.
I’m officially a returned bride, and he wants a full refund.
“We’re married,” is all I can think of saying, my stunned disbelief obvious. “I’m not a dog you can return to the shelter because it doesn’t fit your lifestyle, Julius.”
Look at me.
He continues to avoid my gaze, speaking in clinical directness. “You’ll still be my wife, in name. Granted all the protection that comes with that. But I’m done. You need to bounce.”
Look at me.
“Why are you doing this?” My rational tone abates, only to be replaced with sheer confusion. “Was it something I did?” My panic rises to new extremes as I huff out a shaky breath and try to reason with him. “You said I didn’t have to be afraid of you.” My panic turns to anger, as I cry, “That you’d stab me in the fucking front, Julius!”
My body begins to tremble in the leather seat.
He can’t do this!
But something tells me his mind is already made up on this matter.
Look at me, you fucking coward!
His eyes remain on the road ahead as he shakes his head lightly, his eyes closing for a moment. And I’ve had it.
“Look at me, goddamn it!” My shriek almost rattles the windows of the big, black SUV.
He takes in a deep breath and finally turns to face me. His eyes glacial, he mutters, “Get out of the car.”
“No,” I tell him, my manner one of disbelief.
There is no way he’s getting me out of this car. He’ll have to drag me out.
“Get out of the car, Ana.” His tone is deceptively calm.
“No!” I yell, my panic turning to fear.
Why is this happening?
Slamming his fist down on the steering wheel so hard that the horn blares into the open night, the veins in his neck bulge, as he roars, “Get out of the fucking car!”
I shake my head fervently, watching him pant in frustration, his lip curling. My quiet voice trembles. “No. No, I’m not going. I want to stay with you.” I begin to cry. “Please,” I beg on a shaky whisper. “Please, Julius. Don’t make me go. I want to be with you. Just you.”
My fear turns to cold, hard dread when he exits the car, moving around to the passenger side, my side. I frantically look for the locking mechanism, but can’t see a damn thing in the dark.
The door at my side opens an inch, and I let out a gasp when Julius reaches for me. I fight to save myself, gripping the door handle and pulling hard, attempting to close the door, but his hands get in the way. Panicked, I shout a broken, “You said you’d never leave me. You said it was you and me. You and me!” The tears come hard and fast. This is really happening. My throat thick with emotion, I choke out, “Oh, God, please don’t leave me, Julius. I need you.”
He grips my arm and yanks hard, but I hold onto the seat, and all that manages to leave the vehicle is one of my shoes. He pulls at me, and growls, “Let go.”
“You’re all I’ve got.” My heart continues to race, and my vision blurs as big fat tears trail my cheeks. I clutch at the grab handle that sits above my head, one foot in the car, the other out.
His arm comes around my waist, and we scuffle momentarily, the sounds of our struggle echoing into the darkness. But my foot slips out of my shoe, launching me backward and out of the car. I fall into a heap onto the gravel at the side of the road with an unladylike screech, my thigh aching as the small jagged stones cut through my black yoga pants. I hiss out in pain and try to regain my composure, but it’s too late. Julius turns and walks away as if he doesn’t even care. And that’s where I’ve fucked up.
At one point, he did.
Without looking back, he moves around to the driver side and gets back into the car, locking the doors behind him.
My mind is a mess. Reaching up, I grab a fistful of my hair in bewilderment and close my eyes, muttering, “This isn’t happening. I’m dreaming. This is not happening.” Tears stream down my face and my chest heaves as I fight to take in a full breath through my body-wracking sobs.
When the low hum of the passenger window being opened sounds, my eyes shoot open and a small sliver of hope shines.
A black duffle is thrown out the window, along with my other shoe.
Julius stares unblinking, before stating, “You’re free, Ana. Fly away.” His gaze darkens, eyes hooding. “Fly far away from here.”
My arms come around me, and I hold myself tight in the cool air. Instead of pleading, I open my mouth and out comes heartbreak. My voice small and broken, I confess a hoarse, “I love you.”
But the window is already closing, cutting off my declaration.
The car switches into gear, and when I move to rush toward it, my foot catches a stone, and I let out a pained gasp, falling to my knees in the dirt. Th
e SUV moves away with such speed that gravel sprays beside me, and I have to raise my hand to protect my face from the stray pebbles being launched like missiles as the wheels spin for a second before the SUV takes off, screeching down the road as Julius regains control of the vehicle.
A mute numbness radiates through me. I stare after him, still in a state of shock. Melancholy soon follows.
So, that just happened.
Taking in a hitching breath, I stand, slipping my shoes on and reaching up to finger my now messed-up hair. Gripping the duffle in one hand, I reluctantly begin to move, hoping Julius might return, but knowing damn well he won’t. I throw the duffle over my shoulder, shuffling along the road, refusing to cry. I pass one block, then the next, and finally pass a third, when I turn toward the bright yellow and white flashing lights.
Vacancy.
With a sniff of despondency, I take a moment to swipe at the tears that rest on my cheeks, wipe my nose on my sleeve and walk toward the place where all of this started.
The Sunflower Inn.
I watch her stumble into the trashy-looking motel and smile at how fucked up she looks.
Didn’t see that coming, did you, bitch?
My phone rings in my lap, and I answer it without looking to see who’s calling.
“Watch her,” are the only words spoken before a gruff Julius hangs up.
When she makes it inside the building, I search my contacts and dial.
As the phone begins to ring, I wonder if this will all be worth dying for.
Bet you won’t see this coming either.
A harsh smile settles on my lips.
Fuck it.
If you’re going to go out, go out with a bang.
New York,
Two months into contract.
I knew Claudio Conti was going to be a pain in my ass even before I started looking for him. The problem? The asshole was a lush, and he loved to show just how wealthy he was. He had properties all over, most of which were secluded and private in every sense of the word. His security team was all ex-military. Everybody knew he was married, but nobody knew his wife. She didn’t have a name and was seldom seen. He rarely let people into his inner circle, and most of those he did ended up dead. Outsiders were considered a threat—man, woman or child. He didn’t trust anyone.