“Drop it,” I grind out between clenched teeth.
“She isn’t good for you, Emmanuel. She was supposed to be dead. Your father said he took care of her.”
“How the fuck do you know about Laura?” I ask, my barrel still fixed on my mother as I step in front of Evie.
“Who do you think told your father about her? I was looking out for you. She was a distraction you didn’t need.”
“Drop the gun, or I will fucking blow your brains out,” I warn.
“I did it for you, Emmanuel. That girl is going to get you killed,” my mother insists. “Move out of my way.”
“That’s not going to happen. This isn’t Laura. Laura’s dead. But it wasn’t Papa who did it. It was me,” I admit. “And if you don’t drop that gun, I will end you too.”
“I’m your mother,” she says.
“You, I can live with losing. Her, I can’t.”
“Emmanuel, don’t do this,” Evie whispers from behind me.
I don’t give my mother another warning. She’s not dropping the gun and I’m not giving her a chance to take a shot at Evie. My finger presses down on the trigger. A hole forms between my mother’s eyes and then her body drops to the floor.
Paz, along with five other men, all come running into the foyer. He looks from me to my mother.
“Clean this up,” I say. Then I turn around and take hold of Evie’s hand, leading her upstairs and quickly closing us inside my bedroom.
Before I say anything, I pull her body tight against mine. She’s shivering. I never wanted her to see who I really am. A man capable of killing his own parents without remorse.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” I press my lips against the top of her head.
“You…” Evie takes a step backwards, shaking her head. “Who is Laura?”
That was not the question I was expecting.
I inhale a deep breath. “She was my girlfriend, when I was sixteen. It was a long time ago, Evie.”
“Why would your mother think I was her?”
“Because you look like her.” I shrug.
“What happened to Laura?”
“I killed her,” I say, waiting for her to run, to scream, for any sort of reaction. What I’m not expecting is for Evie to step towards me and wrap her arms around my waist.
Chapter Twenty-Three
When the man you’ve been sleeping with tells you he killed his teenage girlfriend, the last thing you should be doing is hugging him. I do it anyway as I hold on to Emmanuel tight. I needed one more hug from him because now I know this really is ending.
I just watched him shoot his mother. He pulled the trigger without blinking, and here I am, still wanting comfortfrom him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. I’m sorry he had to do what he just did. For me. Someone who is a temporary fixture in his life.
Inhaling a lungful of air, I step out of his arms. When he tightens his grip on me, I shake my head.
“Let me go,” I plead.
“I’m never letting you go, Evie,” he says as he drops his hold from me. “You are mine. You will always be mine.”
“I can’t do this, Emmanuel. I’m going home,” I tell him.
