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Something Like Love

Page 27

by Monica James


  “She’s not alone,” Quinn chokes out, and I don’t understand what he means until I spin around and see Lucifer himself step out of the van, the early morning light gleaming off his bald head.

  The air gets sucked from my lungs and I almost collapse because this is surely a dream. But the moment Phil smugly waves to us through the window, I know this all too fucking real. I knew this day would come, but I never anticipated Abi would be here when it did.

  “I’ve gotta go down there!” I scream, lunging for my gun, tears blurring my vision. “She’s scared and she’s alone with them,” I spit out, bile rising to my throat.

  “No, Red, wait,” Quinn says, quickly standing in the way.

  “Move,” I snarl, my fingers flexing on the handle of my gun.

  “Wait, we can’t just go down there, guns a blazing. We need to come up with a plan,” he says, arms raised in surrender as he remembers the last time he stood in the way of my vengeance.

  “The plan is I shoot, they die,” I retort, my jaw clenching, as I need to get down there.

  “You shoot, Abi dies,” Quinn corrects, his eyes begging me to stop being unreasonable and listen to him.

  He’s right. Look what happened the last time I was irrational. Hank paid with his life. And so will Abi if I don’t stop and pull it together.

  Taking a calming breath, I nod, although I wish I wasn’t.

  “So, what’s the plan?” I ask, my eyes zeroing in on Phil as he picks some invisible fluff off his shirt, not at all bothered that Tabitha is standing beside him, crying her eyes out.

  “You and Tristan stay up here,” he of course says, and I turn around, glaring at him. “Let me finish…” He huffs, and I nod. “I go out there, try and buy us some time while you sneak round the back, and catch them unaware,” he finishes, sounding hopeful.

  “That isn’t going to work for so many reasons,” I snap. “Anyone other than me going out there means Abi is as good as dead. They won’t shoot me, but you, they will,” I say, my heart about to launch from my chest.

  “How do you know that?” Quinn questions, as he narrows his inquiring eyes my way.

  “I just do,” I reply, avoiding Tristan’s stare like the plague because he knows what I’m about to do.

  He’s the only person who knows what Phil and Thomas have planned for me. And in the end, I always knew it would come to this.

  “I’m going out there, Quinn, and you can either come with me, or you can stay in here,” I state with finality, as this is no longer up for discussion.

  Slamming my gun onto the dresser, I look at Quinn with nothing but regret in my eyes. I am so sorry I have put him through this, but I know he wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “Lose the piece if you’re coming with me.” I sigh, gesturing my chin to his gun. “We come out there armed, they kill Abi.”

  Quinn hates this as much as I do, but he knows I’m right. “Give this to Polly or Cynthia. Protect them, Tristan,” he says, grabbing Tristan by the shoulders and giving him a stiff nod.

  Tristan hates that he’s been left behind, but he knows neither Quinn nor I would have it any other way. And this is Tabitha’s life we’re dealing with.

  So he doesn’t argue as he accepts Quinn’s gun, and nods. “Be careful. I’ll be watching from the front window, and if that fucker steps out of line, I won’t miss.”

  Giving Tristan a weak smile, admiring his courage, I look at Quinn, who nods, because it’s show time.

  Latching onto the lacy edge, I rip the curtain aside so there is nothing shielding me from the evil, predatory stare of Phil. The moment he sees me, he has the audacity to laugh, no, sneer like a snake, happy to have finally caught his prey.

  My knees are shaking, and my legs threaten to give out at any time, but I must appear strong, as I refuse to show this bastard any weakness. Tabitha takes a step towards me when she sees me standing at the window, but Phil grips her arm, violently shoving her backward. I bite my tongue to keep from crying out, as my poker face must not slip because Abi’s life depends on it.

  Crossing my arms defiantly over my chest, I glare at Phil, waiting for him to make his move. This is Phil’s game, remember, and I have to play by his rules.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he pathetically calls out, and I roll my eyes because this guy is an absolute loser. “I’ve always wanted to say that,” he yells with a smirk.

  I motion with my finger for this to get moving along, and Phil’s smirk suddenly dies down to a scowl.

  Shit.

  “Two minutes,” I shout, holding up two fingers, looking at Phil and only Phil, because the moment I meet Abi’s tear stained eyes, my entire hard exterior will crumble down into the bullshit facade that it is.

  Phil looks bored as he nods, but just for good measure, he wraps his arm around Abi’s trembling shoulders and leans towards her, smelling her hair. I hear Abi cry out, but I refuse to take the bait, and keep my eyes focused on him. He’s doing this to scare her, and I know how much Phil loves the smell of fear.

  Turning around, I see Tristan and Quinn standing a few feet away from me, nervously eyeing the window.

  “Protect them,” I say to Tristan, placing my hand over his frantic heart.

  He nods, and places his palm over mine. “And you,” he says as he leans forward, softly kissing my cheek.

  Giving him a small smile, I memorize every piece that makes up Tristan Berkeley, because I don’t know when I’ll ever see him again.

  “That wasn’t goodbye,” he says with a sad smile, but I don’t reply and only nod.

  “Let’s do this,” Quinn barks, and I pull my hand away from Tristan’s chest, my body sagging with the sadness of what we’re about to do.

  “Let me do the talking,” I instruct Quinn, who nods, but I’m not convinced.

  “Catch ya soon, bro,” Quinn says, turning to Tristan as he affectionately cradles the back of his neck.

  “Be careful, man,” Tristan replies, bringing him in for a quick hug.

  Their earnest goodbye has tears stinging my eyes because it’s my fault they are once again bidding each other farewell. But I wipe away my unshed tears and suck it up, because my tears can wait.

  Once they’ve said their goodbyes, Quinn looks at me with a confident smile. “Let’s roll.”

  Taking a deep breath, I reach for his hand, and we take our first step toward freedom, because I know what I have to do.

  Chapter 30

  Eye of the Storm

  Polly and Cynthia are waiting for us at the top of the stairs, both frightened and in tears.

  “This is my fault,” Polly cries, her hands covering her face. “If I never went out, they would have never found us,” she howls.

  Cynthia soothes her, running a hand down her back, which only induces a loud sobbing fit.

  “This is my fault as much as it is yours,” I gently say, and as Polly lifts her tear-stained face, I can see the confusion in her eyes.

  “It’ll be over soon, and then, then you can go back to the way things were.” I smile, as that future sounds like a good future to me.

  But Polly surprises me as she unexpectedly throws herself into my arms, sobbing. I don’t know what to do, but my arms rise of their own accord, and I wrap her into a tight embrace. She weeps into my shoulder and I rub her back, just like Cynthia did.

  “It’ll be okay. Tristan is here to protect you,” I coo, understanding why she’s scared.

  However, she pulls out of our hug, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. “I’m not worried about us. I’m worried about you. Who’s going to protect you?” she says, and I stare stunned, as why would she care?

  “I will,” Quinn states, snapping me out of my thoughts.

  I look up at him with a weak smile, as no one can protect me—I’m beyond being saved. But I nod, knowing the lie will end soon.

  “Protect my sister,” Polly bawls, nodding at Quinn, silently begging him to shelter me from what I have to do.
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  “With my life,” he replies, and I sadly smile at Polly’s term of endearment, because their efforts are all in vain.

  Cynthia is an inconsolable mess, and I doubt she’ll have anything coherent to say. So I decide to speak for the both of us, because there is only one simple thing I wish to say.

  “I forgive you.”

  A gut wrenching howl tears from Cynthia’s throat and she holds onto the banister for support, her tears clouding her vision. But I don’t make a move to comfort her, as my words have provided her with the reprieve she needs.

  I need her to know that I get it, and I don’t want her living with this regret a second longer. I wish her all the happiness in life, as she no longer has to grieve for her daughter, because her daughter is finally free.

  I leave my family sobbing on the stairs, and look at my man with a firm nod. “I’m ready.”

  Interlacing my fingers through his, we descend the stairs slowly, and as each step brings me closer to my freedom, my steady heartbeat begins to slow. Everything up until this moment flashes before my eyes, and although it’s now the end, I’m not nervous or scared. I’m calm, just like the eye of the storm.

  We arrive at the front door, and as I reach for the handle, Quinn pulls me back. “You’re not about to be a martyr, are you?”

  Sighing, I stand up on tippy toes and kiss the lips I’ve grown to love. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my family,” I reply, and Quinn cocks an eyebrow.

  But I don’t give him time to respond as I yank open the door, facing my worst nightmare.

  A few feet away stands Phil, who is holding a sobbing Abi by the back of neck. I finally allow my eyes to meet hers, and when they do, my entire world comes crashing down around me. I see Hank’s pain reflected in her eyes, and that’s all the motivation I need to surrender.

  “Let her go,” I snarl, looking down at him from the porch we stand on.

  “Hello to you too, dear niece,” Phil replies with a smirk.

  “Cut the crap. Let’s do this, you asshole,” I snap, and I can sense Quinn tense up near me, not understanding what’s going on.

  “Straight to the point these days, aren’t you? My, my, you have changed. Maybe it’s got to do with this young stallion over here,” he says, his eyes landing on Quinn.

  “Nope, it’s all me,” I reply instead, nodding at Abi, indicating that it’ll be over soon.

  “I don’t think I like this little attitude of yours, Mia Lee,” he scolds like I’m a naughty child.

  “Well, lucky for me, I don’t give a shit what you think. Hand her over,” I snap, faking confidence while I’m slowly dying inside.

  Phil contemplates my demand as he tries to stare me down, but I’m done being the underdog.

  “Maybe I’ve gotta hurt this little slut for you to submit,” Phil suddenly says, squeezing the back of Abi’s neck until she cries out in pain.

  Gnawing my teeth together, I try to remain calm and collected. “You’re wasting my time,” I fake yawn, examining my fingernails.

  I can see the confusion hidden amongst Phil’s cocky demeanor, and this is exactly what I want. How do you outsmart a con? By playing him at his own game, of course.

  “So you wouldn’t mind if I had my fun with this little strawberry tart while you watched?” Phil snickers, licking the side of Abi’s face in one wet lick.

  She whimpers, her eyes widening, begging me to save her.

  “Oh, on the contrary. You hurting her will destroy me, just like you killing Hank did,” I snarl, my body shuddering at the memory of Hank dying before my eyes. “So quit it with the melodramatics, because you know I’m the one you really want.”

  “Red!” This is first thing that has come out of Quinn’s mouth, but I know that’s not because he doesn’t have anything to say.

  He’s silently watching and observing, trying to figure out what the hell I’m playing at. And this is the reason why I never told him what Phil wanted me to do, because if push comes to shove, Quinn would sacrifice anybody to save me, and I can’t allow that. Not ever again.

  Ignoring Quinn, I focus on the asshat in front of me.

  “Ah, you’re right, I do want you, but this attitude you’re sporting, I don’t like it. I think I may need to break you…or maybe break a few fingers to rein you back in.”

  Before I have time to protest, he reaches for Abi’s pointer finger and bends it backwards, it snapping with a sickening sound. She howls in pain, her hand cradling her broken finger, while Phil laughs, clapping his hands in delight.

  “Ah, music to my ears.” He smirks, cupping a hand over his ear, hoping to amplify Abi’s sobs.

  “Red, what are you doing?” Quinn whispers, but I barely hear it above Abi’s wailing.

  “Forgive me,” I whisper back, now understanding the words he whispered to me when the tables were turned.

  Before he has time to question me, I step forward, hands raised in surrender. “Let her go, and I’ll come willingly.”

  “Red, no!” Quinn screams, gripping my arm and stopping me from taking another step.

  He now gets it. He, better than anybody, understands what an ultimatum looks like. Although our situations are miles apart, when given a choice, you have to choose the right one. And this, this is the right choice. This is right for everybody.

  “Let her go, Casanova, or I break another finger,” Phil threatens, snatching up Abi’s hand.

  When Quinn hears Abi whimper, he reluctantly lets me go.

  “You see, we all want the same thing,” he says, dropping Abi’s hand like he has her best interests at heart.

  Walking down the first step, I look toward the van and know Thomas is hiding inside with an assortment of weaponry on hand. I can only hope Tristan doesn’t come to my rescue, as he’ll be dead before he could fire a single round.

  As I descend the last step, I try not to recoil as I come face to face with my enemy. He looks the same. Same shit-eating grin, same cold dead eyes, same over-confident stature, but most of all, same greedy, motherfucking smell of victory. We’re all pawns to Phil, some more valuable than others. But in Phil’s mind, we’re all movable game pieces, and he’ll do anything to call checkmate.

  “I’m sorry, Abi,” I say, my voice wavering, betraying my emotions.

  “No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” she cries, her big eyes filling with more tears. “I couldn’t wait to tell you…we did it.”

  And I know by, ‘did it,’ she means we’re finally free.

  Closing my eyes in relief, the joy I feel knowing Quinn is free and no longer a fugitive has a single tear slipping down my cheek. Her words give me the strength I need, and I open my eyes with a fierce determination.

  “Thank you,” I cry. “He’s free because of you,” I whisper, and Abi bites her lip, understanding what I’m about to do.

  “I’ll do it,” I state, looking at Phil, who watches our exchange with interest.

  “What couldn’t she wait to tell you?” he asks instead, as he’s not as dumb as he looks.

  A part of me hoped that if I went willingly with him, that maybe the police would eventually catch up to him, and he would finally pay for his crimes. But sadly, I always knew it would come to this.

  “Abi, call your dad, tell him to burn everything he has on Phil. And Thomas,” I say, glaring at the van, as I want Thomas to know I can smell him hiding away.

  “What?” she gasps. “I don’t…why?” she questions, her eyes darting behind me, no doubt looking at Quinn for answers.

  “Because it’s the only way for you to stay safe,” I reply. “Can your dad guarantee Quinn’s freedom if he does that?”

  “But,” she refutes, but Phil suddenly twists her arm behind her, threatening to snap it if she doesn’t obey. “Ouch!” she cries, but nods quickly, silently apologizing to me with her tears.

  But I shake my head, as no one is to blame but me.

  “Mia, I never took you for a Good Samaritan, I mean, you were a drug dealer. You do reme
mber that, right? I know you remember selling to whoring kids, accepting their dirty money with cum still on their chin. And I know you remember selling to Lacey,” he sneers, and I rub at my tattoo, remembering the memory all too well.

  “I know what I did,” I counter with venom. “You’ll never let me forget it.”

  Phil snickers, loving this back and forth banter, and I recoil when I see the bulge in the front of his pressed slacks.

  “I’ll go with you,” I say, holding up my finger. “On one condition.”

  Phil laughs, rubbing his jaw. “And what’s that?”

  “You let everyone go, and you give me your word that no harm will ever come to them. Once this is done, you forget they exist. All of them,” I reiterate, as Cynthia is part of my bargaining.

  Phil taps his chin, deep in thought. “And what if I agree to this little bargain and this little cherry pie’s daddy is still out for my blood?”

  Swallowing down my terror, I reply, “If that happens, then I turn myself over and say I did it. I confess to…Hank’s murder,” I say, almost gagging. “I’ll confess to the drug dealing, to everything. I’ll take the fall for it all.”

  I don’t hear or see Quinn, but I know he’s come to my rescue as Phil pulls a 9mm from the waistband of his pants, aiming it at my temple.

  “Take one more step and she’s dead,” Phil snarls, pressing the muzzle of the gun into my sweaty brow.

  You’d think having a gun pressed to my temple would freak me out, but I’m so fucking tired, and if he blew my brains out right now, it would result in an endless slumber. But I can’t rest until I’ve saved my family. This won’t be over until I am guaranteed their clemency.

  “Quinn, its fine,” I say, extending my hand out behind me, asking him to retreat.

  “Like hell it is!” he defies, and I know there’s no way he’ll back down without a fight.

  However, he must submit, as Phil lowers the gun, satisfied he no longer needs it for the time being.

  “So, do we have a deal?” I ask, narrowing my eyes as I glare at Phil.

 

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