Although, maybe if I yell, he might hear me.
But if I yell, I might make this worse on myself.
TANGO
When my eyes fight through the darkness, realization sets in . . . she’s gone. I want to assume she’s just looking for a tree to squat behind, but why am I having trouble convincing myself of that? I pull myself out from beneath the hovering rocks and squint my eyes through the darkness. She wouldn’t have gone that far. Shit. Shit. Shit.
I rip my pack out of the rocks and secure it over my shoulders. I fucking knew it. I should have told her to wake me up if she had to go to the bathroom. This is all my fault. After searching around every surrounding tree, I still don’t see a trace of anything or anyone. The memory of the assault rifle pointing at us earlier washes through me, sparking my nerves into realization. It’s Reaper and he must have her. It has to be him. I throw my pack down and pull out my night-vision goggles to search the area again. It’s several minutes before I find three sets of footsteps. This is getting worse by the minute.
After following these erratic footsteps for several minutes, I don’t feel any closer but I hear a faint hint of leaves crunching in the distance. I pull out my knife and continue toward the growing sound. The fighter in me takes over, and I’m focusing on the target as I push myself up against the tree, waiting for this asshole to show his face. With only the thought of someone putting their hands on Cali, the rage firing through me will end this situation quickly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CALI
WITH JORGE on the hunt for Tango, Reaper and I are left alone. Face to face. “How did it feel when the knife went through my sister’s throat?” I ask him, swallowing the rising bile.
His eyes widen with excitement. “Mmm. Not as good as fucking her right before.”
My toes curl, my teeth grind against each other, shooting pain into the roof of my mouth. Hearing a detail I would have been better off not knowing forces more heat to rage through me. I have to pretend he’s lying. “All along you thought you had the upper hand, didn’t you? You were sure you were using me as bait—using me to find my dad. But you know what’s funny, Reaper? I knew the whole time. I knew you were my dad’s assistant in China. When I told him about you, he told me to keep you occupied for as long as possible. Well clearly, I did what I had to do.” I can’t help the psychotic laugher pouring from my throat—it’s pure adrenaline. “I made you fall in love with me.” He didn’t have to tell me he loved me three weeks after we started dating. He could have strung me along with all the other niceties. “You can deny it, but when a person’s cheeks flush and their heart races while trying to speak those intimate words, it’s pretty obvious the feelings are true. You stuttered those three dreadful words to me. You stuttered because you meant them.” I look past him, remembering how sincere he was. He looked me right in the eyes. Actually, he was searching my eyes, probably wondering if I’d respond the way his racing heart wanted me to. I could see his pulse stammering along the side of his neck. “You must have been pretty torn between sacrificing me for money and power.” I sigh heavily. “I think the best part though, was an hour ago when you were probably forced to hear the girl you fell in love with fucking another man, moaning his name, letting him feel all the parts of me that you once claimed to be yours. He was so good, Reaper. So much better than anything you ever gave me.”
His lip twists between his teeth, his mind likely gnawing at a memory. This is why I study people. This is why I know every little thing about the people I’m around. I didn’t know what his true intentions were, but I know he loved me.
“Every time you ‘made love to me’ I was faking it. Truth is, I never did care much for you. I was bored and trying to help my dad. I mean, I was hoping to get something out of it, hoping you’d fill that need I had. I guess . . . you tried, but I know no man can really control the size of his dick, so I forgive you for that. You couldn’t even turn me on. So it’s no wonder you need power. How else would you impress a woman?” I laugh, a real laugh, because I’m starting to believe every word coming out of my mouth. “Your words, your gifts, and your lying promises—they meant nothing to me.” I laugh a little more, just to drive my lying points home. “Actually, since we’re being honest. I was cheating on you the entire time. You were really my bait. You kept my bodyguard at bay while I snuck around behind your backs and fucked the other guy. You’re such an idiot.”
His eyes narrow at me and he stands up, brushing the dirt off his knees. “You’re a cunt.”
“Truth hurts, Reaper,” I grin.
“Quit calling me that shit.” He kicks the dirt below his feet and shoves his hands into his pockets, turning away to hide the look on his face. I’ve found his weakness. It was me. “Your parents ever ask you what happened to me? Did you tell them you were trying to use me to find my dad, but instead ended up falling in love with me like an idiot? I mean, really. Who does that? Did you tell them you murdered a nineteen-year-old girl? A girl who had already been raped and tortured the very same year by a different man? Does any one girl really deserve something so horrible in her life? Maybe your parents don’t know that you have a one-way ticket to hell, but they’ll know some day. They’ll know about everything. Then you’ll be a nothing to them too.”
With one step, he’s hovering over me again. His hand rests on the tree bark above my head, and his fingertip is pressed against my nose before his hand wallops my cheek. The pain sears through my head but increases my rage even more. A trickle of blood drips over my lip and I lick it for effect. I know I’m in his head, and I’m not done.
“Did I make you sad? Did I make you regret, Reaper? Have I made you wish you were dead yet? Because, if I haven’t, I’m not fucking done yet.”
Reaper places two fingers against his temple and presses firmly. His eyes bulge and he leans toward me. “You think you can get in my head?” The luminous complexion of his face is turning dark, highlighting the shadows of the veins protruding from his forehead.
I smile presumptuously and laugh. “Reaper, I have already gotten in your head. As a matter-of-fact, I’m making you do everything you’re doing right now.”
“You’re a goddamn psycho. You know that?” he croons.
“What if I told you . . .” I pause. “Actually, I probably shouldn’t.” I can tell my smile is sickening him. It’s sucking the control right out of his head.
“Tell me what, you little bitch?”
I pull my smile even tighter across my cheeks. “What if I told you, you were the one being set up right now? I mean here, in the canyons. You think you’re after my dad? My dad is after you, Reaper.” It sounds like it could be true, even though Reaper is probably the least of Dad’s worries. “You can go kill Tango.” The thought plagues my heart, but my words are only for effect. “But my dad will find you. He has you trapped up here. You aren’t coming out of this alive.” God, I hope what I’m saying is the truth. “In a matter of seconds, a group of men my dad works with are going to poke their heads up from the surrounding rocks and shine their flashlights into your face.” I rub my wrists up and down against the tree, trying to weaken the rope holding me in place. His focus is darting from tree to tree, from rock to rock. To the sky and to the ground. He’s losing it.
“You’re lying,” he says softer, his voice weakening under my control.
“Maybe. But I might not be.” I continue tugging at the rope. My wrists are burning against the coarse fibers, but I have to push through it.
I stand up, pulling myself away from the tree, trying to catch the rope against the bark to weaken the fibers more. The rope is thick; this could take hours. “You hear that?” I say dramatically, nudging my ear toward the sky. I don’t hear a thing. But I bet he does. He scouts every opening to the clearing we’re in, paranoia sensationalizing his perceptual awareness. “I think they know we’re here. You should run.” I move my hands up and down against the tree faster and faster. I feel sprigs of the rope pulling away from each other, making me sati
sfied that the pain in my wrists is worth it.
Reaper sprints over to me, rips out a knife from his back pocket and slices the rope in half. His hand coils around my arm, and he pulls me behind him. My skin is so raw from the rope I might be able to leave traces of blood behind me. As we move past a broken branch, I swipe my wrist over the serrated edge. I can feel the warm trickle dripping down my hand. The drop beads at my fingertip and falls. I squeeze my hand together tightly, holding my grip for a few seconds, and release. More drops of blood follow.
After being dragged in what seems like circles for a half hour, we come to a ledge. He shoves me to the ground and walks away with his hands clutching the back of his neck. He’s pacing in circles.
A gunshot sounds in the distance, and the sound pierces my heart. The thought of it being Tango works my mind into a frenzy. Forget about the fact that my feelings have quadrupled for him over night, if he’s gone, I’m alone here in the middle of these canyons with no survival skills.
I look over my shoulder at Reaper. His focus is lost in the surrounding wooded area. I suck up my fears and continue to push forward. “They’re coming for you.”
His massive body is barreling toward me again, and I’m probably going over this ledge this time. I have nothing to back myself up against. I can’t stand, because he’ll knock me right off the side. Instead, I look him straight on. Seconds feel like minutes with his eyes burning into mine. He pounces on top of me, knocking my head into the rock below. The pain is numbing, and the trees above me are swirling. He’s screaming at me, but I can’t understand what he’s saying. His eyes are bloodshot; his mouth is stretched in both corners as a muffled sound shrieks from his lips. I should close my eyes and shut everything out. But if I do, I’m giving up. And I will not give up. I will not lose this battle. It’s him or me again. And this time, it’s going to be him.
Clarity starts to wash over me. The numbness in my head fades and pain replaces it. A throbbing rattles through my ears, making me feel as though there’s an earthquake inside my head.
“Tell me where he is,” I hear the words still screaming from his crazed mouth. “I’ve invested the last two years of my life into finding him. You’re not worth giving up this fight.”
Oh, yes I am.
I push the tears out, and I force fake sobs up through my throat. “I’m sorry—“ I should call him by his actual name so he thinks I’m sincere. “Reagan.” I sniffle a bit. “I did love you. I wasn’t cheating on you. You did bring me pleasure. A lot of it, but—you just hurt me so fucking bad and then you took my sister.” The tears are starting to feel real as the truth pours out of me.
But the truth ends here.
“For the life of me, I can’t understand why you did what you did, but I still love you. I do. I’ll help you do what you need to do. I’ll go with you to find my dad. I just want you to love me. Make me yours again. Forgiveness is trivial in the shadow of love. Reagan, you were my one and only. My forever.” I lift my hand toward him, hoping he takes it.
I see the weakness develop in his eyes as his hands loop around the back of his neck, and he squeezes tightly. “Fuck, Cali. I do fucking love you. I always have—never stopped. I’m so sorry for everything I did.” Yeah, but sorry can’t bring my sister back. He actually thinks forgiveness for murdering my sister could come so easily? “And I didn’t rape her before—you know. I was just saying that to piss you off.”
“You didn’t?” my voice shakes. “Let me help you find my dad. We’ll do this together, and then you’ll have your power and success, and we can live a happy life together.” I smile lustfully. “What do you think?”
He takes a couple of steps over to me and takes my hand, pulling me up to my feet. Ugh. My head swirls and pounds from pain, but I push it to the side. He takes a couple of steps away from me before pacing in small circles. “Cali, you deserve more than me.” Yeah, um. I know.
“No. You and I are meant to be together,” I cry.
He turns to look at me, hope swirling through his eyes. He opens his arms, waiting for me to jump into them and claim him as mine again.
I run toward him, my arms open wide. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips into his, pushing hard. Harder. And harder. Walking him backwards as he loses himself within our kiss. I pull away and look him in the eyes once more. “Reaper, I—I—“ I shove him once. I shove him less than three inches, and I watch as he topples off the ledge, screaming like a girl. “I never fucking loved you, asshole!” I shout.
The moment gets to me. The release of adrenaline in my body makes me weak and causes my knees to give out. I fall backwards and hit my head against a sharp corner of a rock, forcing more swirls and swishes to float in front of my eyes. The memory of his body falling off the cliff disappears, and I feel like I hear faint screams in the distance. But I’m sure the sounds are from within my head. The screams soften almost completely . . . and then the noise stops. I hear nothing—nothing but silence among the grasshoppers singing against the soothing winds whisking through the greens.
He’s gone.
I killed Reaper.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CALI
I’M SCARED to close my eyes. I’m scared of becoming unconscious here in the dark. The pain in my head is radiating through my entire body, and I’m stiff, lying here gazing up into the millions of stars. Some twinkle, saying hello. Others just stare with curiosity. I wish I could send them an S.O.S, but no one would respond.
The place between heaven and earth is a one-way mirror that separates those who’ve moved on from those who are still on earth. They can peek in on us; see how we’re doing, and rest knowing we’re okay. But those of us down here, who are wondering the same about them, have to live with the unknown.
Footsteps sound in the distance, but I don’t care. I have no desire to know what’s next. I fulfilled my promise to Krissy. There’s nothing left on my to-do list.
A cold sweat and darkness washes over me. I see Tango’s smile. I think about how we were here to save him, and now I’m the one who needs to be saved. God, I hope he’s okay.
***
As the footsteps quicken into a run from whoever is nearing me, I notice the subtle glow from the sun sneaking up over the horizon, telling me I made it through the night. My fingers curl into each other by my side. I have no energy to fight. If it’s Jorge, he can just push me over the edge, and I’ll follow the path Reaper took.
The noises are muffled again, but the ground vibrates next to me, and a hand swoops under my head as I hear the word, “Shit,” yelled loudly. “Cali?” I think I hear. An arm curls under my back and another around my legs. Why is my head still spinning? Why can’t I see who’s holding me?”
I feel something pressed against the back of my head as I’m set down on a spongy surface. My hands rest by my sides and the sensation of grass tickles my palms. Tango appears in my sight, clambering on top of me. His lips are moving, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. It’s the ringing noise in my ears that is blocking out all softer tones. I feel his lips on my forehead. My cheek. My chin. My lips. The sensation lingers there.
Tango slides behind me and carefully lifts my head to rest on his lap. He strokes his fingers through my hair and into my scalp. The sensation makes me weak and I succumb to more sleep.
TANGO
I have to assume she’s the reason he isn’t here anymore. He wouldn’t have left her. He would have either finished her off or taken her with him. There’s no blood, just a slight bump on her head. I’m sure she has a concussion, and I’m worried since she’s asleep. But she’s breathing and her heart is beating normally. I continue to comb my fingers through her hair—I love wrapping the strands around my fingertips and watching them slightly bounce away when I let go. She’s so beautiful, and I’ve come to love staring at her like this, when she’s unaware of my lingering gaze. I press my lips against her forehead, hoping it will pull her from her sleep. I need her to wake up. My worry for her injury
is growing by the second, and it’s only been twenty minutes since she fell back asleep. But I know how important it is for people with head injuries to stay awake.
I feather my fingertips over her cheek, trying to rouse her again. Her body responds to my touch this time. She flinches a bit, and I’m relieved she’s at least reacting to me.
“Cali,” I whisper softly into her ear. “You okay, baby?” Baby? Did I just call her baby? That’s a new one for me, but it sort of feels natural. This girl has seriously done me in, and it’s hardly been a week. She’s made me feel things I’ve never felt for another woman. She’s made me care in a way that I didn’t think I had the ability to do anymore. Maybe that’s what an undesired four-year abstinence does to a man. Knowing she could be the beginning to my supposed end is the answer to my last dying wish.
CALI
The hot sun nips at my skin as my tongue struggles to find moisture on the roof of my mouth. My eyelids feel heavy, but I force them open. Two large bright green eyes are looking back at me. “Cali?” The sound of his voice is crisp, and I vaguely remember I could only hear a ringing sound when I closed my eyes.
I try to respond, but my mouth is too dry. An achy noise grumbles in my throat to let him know I need water, and he gently places the mouthpiece to his water-pouch between my lips. My lips are cracked, and when I move them, they crack more. I feel warm air swish across the separated cuts on each lip. My tongue works hard to suck the water from the straw, but with the first drop, my mouth craves more and sucks harder. A steady stream of liquid cools my throat and fills my stomach. The satisfaction is almost instant.
“I’m going to try and lift you up and sit you against the tree.” His hand presses beneath my shoulder blades and his other hand lifts under my arm. Slowly, he eases me up.
My head still feels like it’s spinning a bit, but steadies after a moment. I think I’m okay. My lungs constrict when a flash of what happened last night trips my memory. I clutch my hand over my heart and twist the thin fabric of my shirt into a ball. “He’s dead,” I croak out.
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