A single word to anyone and your boyfriend will be the one to pay the price.
With trembling hands, I swipe open my phone to see the rest.
The first message is a photo of Cade. It’s of him standing at the counter a few feet away. Tank top. Ripped jeans. His head is thrown back in a laugh, the overhead lighting highlighting one of his dimples.
Whoever took the photo is in this café.
I go to look around to seek them out, but the next message grabs my attention before I can.
UNKNOWN
You’re going to want to keep this quiet, Ansel.
No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. It can’t. It’s over.
It’s supposed to be over.
I should’ve known better. Good things don’t happen to me. They never have.
I reread the message over and over.
I can’t draw a breath. There’s something wrong with my lungs.
Another message suddenly appears. Another photo. This time, a detail on it has been crudely circled in black.
I zoom in with trembling fingers. In the center of the circle is a red dot.
My brain doesn’t catch up fast enough. Why is the red dot significant?
As if reading my mind, a text appears.
UNKNOWN
A single word or sign to Cade and I’ll pull the trigger.
The phone drops from my hand as a choked sound erupts from my throat. Cade twists around at the noise, concern lining his face.
That’s when I see it.
The tiny red dot on his chest.
I can’t get to him in time. He’s too far away.
I do the only thing I can to save him.
I smile, my muscles screaming at the motion. I wave him off and blow him a kiss.
Cade eyes me for a second longer before going back to his conversation.
UNKNOWN
Smart choice, Ansel.
My mouth is dry as I type back a response.
ANSEL
What do you want from me? I thought this was over with.
