“Anyway.” Mina shifted, snuggling closer to him and drawing his attention back to her. “I was supposed to meet a boy there. Mason Turner, the best quarterback our town had seen in fifty years. The All-American boy, blonde, blue-eyed, a total dreamboat.”
“And this Mason didn’t show?”
“Oh, he showed all right. He showed up with Brittany Green, the head cheerleader, tucked up under his arm looking like the perfect Southern small town prom king and queen. Which they did win, by the way, and then she dumped his ass at graduation in front of everyone.”
“Sounds like he got what he deserved.”
“He did.” Her quick, high giggle made him grin. “It was glorious.”
“How does Gabby fit into this story?”
“The night of the bonfire, she found me sitting under a tree, drinking a strawberry daiquiri wine cooler and sobbing my eyes out.” Her voice grew thick again, but she forged ahead through the unshed tears. “She stood there for what seemed like forever, staring at me, until I finally snapped and told her to go away and leave me the fuck alone. And thenshesaid if I was going to let some needle dick like Mason Turner ruin my night then I was even more pathetic than she realized.”
“Charming,” he said, keeping his tone deliberately dry in the hopes it might bring back her laughter.
It worked, though now her giggle was distinctly watery. “It worked, though. We had a screaming match right then and there. Then we went back to the bonfire, talked shit about all the boys who had broken our hearts, and got so drunk we could barely walk straight. We’ve been inseparable ever since.” Her breath hitched. “Wewereinseparable.”
Going purely on instinct, he pulled her up onto his lap, cradling her there while she cried herself out again. Anger burned in his chest, as bright and hot as it was futile.
Helpless. That was exactly what he felt. Helpless to do anything more than sit and hold her as she cried, when what he wanted to do was go out and hunt his brother down and give him the slow, agonizing end he deserved.
“Sorry.” With a loud sniffle, she sat up and wiped at her eyes. “I thought I was done crying but I guess not.”
“Oh, baby.” Setting aside his daydreams of vengeance, he cupped her cheek, brushing at a stray tear with his thumb. “You don’t have to apologize for being sad. And this isn’t the type of thing you can simply purge from your system with a single cry. It’s okay to grieve for her.”
“I just miss her so fucking much already.” Tears welled in her eyes again. “How am I supposed to do this without her? It feels like a part of me is missing and I’ll never get it back.”
“I know.” The doorbell rang, interrupting him. “Let’s get some soup in your belly and we can talk some more. I’ll be right back.”
She pouted, but she slid from his lap onto the couch so he could push to his feet. “Drink some water,” he called over his shoulder as he made his way to the front door.
Grateful to finally have something real he could do for her, he plastered a polite smile on his face and pulled the door open.
But there was no fresh-faced college kid standing there, holding bags of food. There was nobody at all. Frowning at the empty space, he stepped outside to glance around, to see if their delivery person had gotten mixed up.
His foot bumped up against something, drawing his attention to the small package on the front step. Dread coiled at the base of his spine as he bent to pick it up.
Whatever it was, it hadn’t been delivered by any normal delivery service since there was no address label to be found. Only his name, in stark, blocky letters on the front of the slim envelope.
Closing the door behind him, he found the tab to rip open the package so he could peek inside.
Pictures. Tipping the envelope sideways, he poured the glossy printouts into his open palm. And as he sorted through them, dread became terror.
Mina, arriving at her office, her head down, her expression fierce as she scanned her phone. Mina, standing on the front steps of his townhome, waiting to be let in. Mina at a coffee shop. Mina shaking hands with someone outside an office building. Mina, Mina, Mina, at all points of her day from the past few days.
Mina, sitting on his couch, wrapped up in an oversized robe as she sipped from a bottle of water. Mina, with a bright red target painted directly over her heart.
Terror nearly rooted him to the spot, but he managed to turn and race for the living room.Too slow. You’re too slow, and it’s going to be too late.
“Mina! Get down!” he screamed as he rounded the corner.
For once, she didn’t question why or argue, she simply threw herself onto the floor, flattening herself against the hardwood. There was a soft thud as the bullet hit the back of the couch a second after she’d disappeared.
Safe. She was safe. She’d moved, she wasn’t there.
Now get yourself down, you idiot!
He dropped to his hands and knees just as the wall above him splintered with a loud crack. Laying flat, he army-crawled to where she was stretched out beneath the coffee table, her eyes wide with terror.