Because my husband is coming.
Because the Saints are coming.
Because the devil himself couldn't stop Garrett from getting to me.
The door to my room bursts open.
Virgil stands there, silhouetted against the light from the other room, a gun in his hand.
There's blood on his face—from where I broke his nose, I realize with grim satisfaction—and his eyes are wild.
He looks smaller somehow.
Diminished.
Like the monster under the bed revealed to be nothing but shadows.
"Your fucking husband," he snarls. "I should have known he'd come. Should have killed you the second I got you here instead of—" He stops, shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. Doesn't matter."
He raises the gun, pointing it at my chest.
And I hear it, louder now, almost on top of us: the roar of motorcycles, the thunder of engines, the sound of the cavalry coming over the hill.
The sound of Garrett keeping his promise.
Virgil hears it too.
His hand wavers, the gun trembling.
For the first time since I've known him, he looks uncertain. Lost.
"Doesn't matter," he says again, more to himself than to me. "I'll kill you. I'll kill you and the baby and then I'll disappear. I've done it before. I can do it again."
"No." My voice comes out stronger than I expect. Stronger than I feel. "You won't."
"Shut up."
"He's going to kill you." I look at Virgil—really look at him—and I see what I should have seen all along.
A coward.
A small, pathetic man who hurts women because he can't face anyone his own size.
A bully who crumbles the moment someone fights back. "Garrett is going to walk through that door, and he is going to kill you. Slowly. Painfully. And I'm going to watch."
"I said shut up!" His voice cracks. Actually cracks, like a scared child's.
"You should have run when you had the chance. Should have disappeared like you always do. But you got greedy. You got arrogant. And now?—"
The gunfire outside is louder now.
Closer.
I hear a scream—one of Virgil's men going down. I hear shouting, Garrett's voice cutting through the chaos: "Find her! Find Vanna!"
Virgil's hand shakes.
The gun wavers.
