Ella sighs, the sound cracking my chest. “Then spend these few weeks with me. It’ll hurt when you go … but I can’t live above you and not want to see you every day.”
My heart is in fucking pieces.
Earlier as we lay on that couch, my hands close to her throat, I knew I couldn’t do it. I can’t hurt Ella. Certainly can’t kill her. I’m convinced she’s caught up in something unintentionally—I just need to convince Gable of that.
Either way, I can’t have her.
Not forever, anyway.
“Okay.” I kiss her.
My dick is already hardening again, and I lift her intomy arms, about to take her to her bedroom, when my phone vibrates.
I know exactly who it’ll be.
“Shit,” I mumble, balancing Ella with one arm while checking my phone with the other.
GABLE: she dead yet? I’m bored
Fuck.
ME: you interrupted me.
Not a lie.
“Gable needs me,” I say, looking up at Ella. “Can I come over again later?”
She pouts but nods, and I place her back on her feet.
“Don’t be too long, or I’ll get started without you,” she says, and I do everything in my power not to propose.
“Okay,we’ve got the bone saw, or a good old-fashioned rug roll and dump,” Gable says as I enter Barnaby’s apartment. “What do you think?” He stares at me, bone saw in hand, brows up as he waits for my answer. I swallow, my skin still tingling from the orgasm, my stomach churning with guilt over the lies. He sighs. “Okay, fine, we’ll leave her at home and call in a bad smell so her dad can bury her. Happy?” Still, I say nothing, going into the open-plan kitchen and dropping the keys on the counter.
I can’t lie to him. Gable’s been my best friend for twenty years. He’ll see right through me; he always has.
“You’re being weird,” Gable says. “Did she poop when she died? ’Cos that’s totally normal.”
“She’s …” I rub the back of my head. “Not dead.”
When I meet his eye, he’s glaring at me. He drops the bone saw onto the couch, goes to the side table drawer and yanks it open, taking out a gun and spinning the silencer onto the muzzle. “You had your chance.”
I dart to the door, blocking his way. “You can’t.”
“I can. I will. I am.” He cocks the gun. “Move.”
“She’s innocent, Gable!”
He points the gun at the ceiling. “She is a walking, talking Range Rover. She’s a downpayment on a villa in Spain. She’s a fucking paycheck!”
“I’ve fallen for her.”
He gapes at me, mouth open. “You fucked her.”
I scoff. “I did not.”
He snatches my hand and sniffs my fingers. “Pussy!” He grabs at my belt and I twist away. “If your dick is wet, Asher Flynn, I’ll murder you, too!”
As I dart away, he goes for the door handle and I grab his arm, throwing him to the floor. His back hits the rug, the gun skidding away, and I leap on him. He slaps me and I push at his face to keep him down.
