My fingers graze my stiletto heels and I weave them under the straps to unbuckle them. "Let me get more comfortable," I tell Ricardo as I slip out of my shoes. I stand from his lap and drop down onto my knees in front of him, his eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. After I stroke the length of his thighs, I break away to unbutton my top, reaching into my bra to pull out the blade that's meant to slit his fucking throat.
But Ricardo senses the threat before I've secured the weapon, his hand latching onto my wrist with great force. "You fucking bitch. Think you can outsmart me."
My heart pounds hard, my vision going light and dark all at the same time. I should have waited, I should have been more careful, I should have done anything other than rush this because rushing it is exactly what gave me away. Why did I think I could pull this off? Because I killed my boss? I murder one fucking person and suddenly I'm a master at it?
Frantically, I reach with my other hand, desperately searching for anything to help me.
Ricardo grips me tighter, the circulation to my hand being cut off with each squeeze.
I take hold of the only thing I can think of, my fucking heel, and glance down at it, wondering what the fuck I'm going to do with it. Only, those murderous tendencies running through my veins gives me what might be the best and worst idea of my life. Seizing the place my foot was a moment prior, I yank my arm backward and heave it forward, slamming the pointed edge of the heel directly into Ricardo's cheek.
He drops me immediately, reaching for his face.
I hit him again, this time with more force, the heel penetrating his flesh.
"You fucking bitch," he yells at me while holding onto himself.
"You. Said. That. Already," I tell him, each word another blow to the face with my stilettos, courtesy of Miller. Climbing back onto Ricardo's lap in a way that he never expected, I don't let up. Not when he tries to shove me, not when he cries out for help. I keep smashing the sharp edge of my heel into his face until he's unrecognizable, his body twitching with what life is left in him.
It isn't until moments later, when hands grip my shoulders, that I realize I won.
And how fucking anticlimactic of a victory it is.
I'm pulled off what remains of Ricardo and the murder weapon is taken from me.
"Cora, Angel." Silver meets my gaze, his voice soft and gentle. "You did it." His face is speckled in blood, and I'm not sure why or how, but he seems okay, and that's all that matters.
He's okay. I'm okay. This is over.
"We have to get you out of here," he tells me but all I want is to turn my attention back to Ricardo and make sure he never hurts another person ever again.
"But I..." I try to get free of Silver's hold on me. "I have to make sure."
"He's dead, Angel. I promise."
But his promise falls flat, because he's made and broken them before.
As if he senses my exact thought, he releases me and pulls out a gun from his waistband. "Here." Silver shoves the gun into my hand, flicking off the safety and taking his own hand to guide mine to point it at Ricardo.
I pull the trigger, shooting Ricardo's motionless body, once, twice, however many times until the trigger no longer produces a bullet, the thing clicking as I tug it back. "It's not enough," I whisper, the satisfaction I expected nowhere in sight.
Seeing him dead is great, but it will no doubt repay him for the torment he inflicted on others every second he was alive. I should have been more prepared, I should have figured out a way to prolong his death, make it more painful, make him fear ever stepping foot into my life.
But I can't change what's done, the only thing I can do is breathe easier now that he's gone.
Miller rushes into the room, his steps halting when he focuses on me. "We have to get you out of here."
My ending Ricardo's life wasn't the last part of our plan, and if we stand any chance of pulling this off, I have to get my head out of my ass and focus on completing what we started, once and for all.
42
SILVER
"Did you guys seriously blow up his house?" Alec asks us even though he already knows the answer to the question.
"Yes," I say. "Should have been there."
"That's so cool." Alec opens the fridge to look inside, only to shut it a moment later, his hands empty.
