Page 83 of When Sinners Hate
I yank his head back further and jab the tip of the knife into the side of his throat, where I expect to find his carotid, and with all my force, I drag the serrated edge down, sawing through his tissue and skin and opening him up to bleed out.His hands fly up to stem the bleeding, and his voice gurgles as he begins to choke. But it’s too late.
I pull the knife out and drop it to the floor, as I straighten and watch the man who was responsible for so much of my pain crumble and slump forward. And then I listen to the silence. I don’t look up. I stand and stare at the body in front of me as the blood seeps out and edges towards where Abel still stands, and I take a deep, cleansing breath. For the first time in my life, I really feel free.
I look my husband in the eye and feel a sense of pride wash over me with his gaze, and looking at him, I finally see a truth he’s been trying to pull from me. This is the wife he wanted to see. My actions and my strength against the man who caused so much pain. Standing up for something and being unapologetic as to who I am. “We’ll need to call Dante. Or Chance.” I don’t fight the smile that tugs at my lips.
CHAPTER TWENTY - SEVEN
ABEL
The air seems a damn sight more calm this morning. For two reasons. A piece of shit is dead. And my wife let her true colours emerge.
I look out over the pool, wondering how she feels about killing her father like she did. I don’t suppose she has the same thoughts about it as I had taking Emilio out of our lives – the only real father I knew, but maybe she does. Maybe she has as much vengeance in her blood as I do. And maybe, going forward, I need to watch my damned back around her.
Chuckling to myself, I pick up my espresso and think of her in that moment. She shone. She glared enough that she could have shook the building around her with it. I’d like to believe it was protective instinct for her new family, but I’m not convinced it was in totality. I think it was years of disappointment and hatred let loose alongside it. Either way, I can use it, and so can she. We can build something more than I ever thought I’d find in a fine woman like her. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt as much pride in my life as I did watching her kill for both herself and me. Overnight, what was bordering onperfection, has become exquisite in nature. My perfect marriage, I suppose. A woman who understands my life and is part of this with me.
The phone rings, breaking my thoughts. Shaw’s burner.
“Does she need to see him again before this happens? Last chance,” he asks.
“No.”
I end the call and keep looking at the water in front of me. I haven’t asked her opinion on the matter, and I don’t care if she does or not. She’s not taking time to mourn the man she hoped he was, or worrying herself about what she’s done. She’ll remember the man he actually was and the look on his face when she finished his life for him. If that hurts her, so be it. She’s got me to cling to now. We’ll find a way to make it hurt less if she needs that. Watching a body get burnt in a make-believe meeting gone bad isn’t going to help her, no matter the pleasure I might take seeing the finality.
I drink more coffee for a while and wait until I have to go wake her. We’ve got about an hour before the phone call will come, and so for the time being she can sleep and rest her thoughts. I suppose your first death deserves a bit of adjustment. Did for me, anyway. Although, my adjustment was alone behind bars and full of carnage. Hers won't be.
“Good morning,” she says behind me somewhere.
“Do you have Andreas’ number?” I call back.
She walks out and sits on the other side of the table, coffee in hand and her robe scuffed in tight to her frame. “Yes. Why?”
Because I might kill him for not protecting you. “Because you’re the head of a profitable business now. You’ll need someone to run it for you while you’re here.” She looks at the table and stirs her coffee, as if she’s not ready to discuss that yet. “Lexi?” She looks up, and I see the tiredness in her features,which is at least useful for what's coming. “This needs dealing with.”
“I don’t even know if I’m the main beneficiary, he never acted like I would be.”
“You will be whether you are or not. We have an attorney for that.”
She nods and drinks some coffee. “I need time to–”
“There is no time. Your father’s body will be found in a warehouse near San Diego in the next thirty minutes or so. The police will call you soon after, and you need to act the distraught daughter who doesn’t know anything because you were here with me.”
“What? Why San Diego?”
“Deniability. Dante and Shaw drove through the night. Knox is talking with our lawyer this morning to prepare him. You should call Andreas now if you trust him and get him organised.”
She glares at me out of nowhere. “Why didn’t you talk to me about this? He was my father. I need time to consider the next steps.”
“Yes. But don’t think it’s going any slower for a while. You did this. I’m fixing it so we’re in the clear.”
Her chair scrapes the floor, and she stands, indignant and frustrated. “To protect your mother! And for my own self-worth. Why are you pushing me on this?”
“Sit your ass down. I’m not pushing, I’m being pragmatic.”
“It was last night! I’m not ready to–”
“Shut your damn mouth. I am not losing the woman I love to the inside of a cell because I didn’t act quick enough to protect her.” Her mouth closes.
She damn near falls back into the seat, too. “Love?”