I spent seven years of prison. Much of that time, I was surrounded by violence. Yet I will never get used to the sight of blood, the stench of death, the way a man’s eyes fade after he takes his final breath.
I freeze, staring down at Pointer’s body. He fell awkwardly, half-in, half-out of the storage closet. He doesn’t move, doesn’t gasp, doesn’t beg for help. A clean shot to the head, and he’s gone for good.
“Good riddance.” Seth steps over the body and goes to Madison and Landon.
His words tug me out of my stupor, and I follow him into the storage room.
In the distance, sirens wail. Someone called the authorities. Probably our people with Nove. While it would be easier if we were to quietly make all of this go away, Erich Pointer’s death won’t go unnoticed by the world at large. It is better to finish this ordeal through the proper channels.
Seth squats in front of Landon and Madison. He carefully checks Landon’s eyes and talks to him. Landon blinks, but he seems disoriented. He wasn’t shot—I didn’t give Pointer a chance to pull his trigger.
“He jumped in front of me.” Madison brings her hands to her face—they’re shaking. “He was ready to save my life, even if it killed him.”
“It’s the job,” Landon mumbles, clearly uncomfortable with her gratitude.
He deserves her gratitude, and ours. He would have died for her.
It doesn’t take long before the police and emergency medics arrive. They block off the scene with tape and officers to guard the area from curious bystanders. We give our statements in a mix of Spanish and English. I keep slipping back into Italian, but I get my meaning across. Someone finds the drunk guy Pointer took hostage, and they take his statement as well.
It’s late and we’re all exhausted, although Madison is showing signs of fatigue more than the rest of us. Our poor girl has been through so much in the past few weeks. It isn’t fair that these atrocities keep happening to her, when all I want is for her to be safe and happy. No more fear, no more sorrow.
Finally, we’re able to leave the scene. Landon is taken to the hospital for observation, as the EMTs fear he may have a concussion.
Pointer’s body is carted away unceremoniously.
“Good riddance,” I mutter, echoing Seth’s earlier statement.
Only when we’re ensconced in Madison’s hotel suite do I finally relax. Seth and I start to help get her ready for bed.
“I can put on my own pajamas.” She halfheartedly tries to push us away.
“But it makes us feel better to take care of you.” I pull her into a hug. “Please, bella. We were so worried. Taking care of you, it…” I search for the right word.
“It soothes us,” Seth finishes.
“Yes.” I let her go, waiting to see if she’ll reject our efforts.
Instead, she nods. “Okay. If it makes you feel better.”
We lovingly remove her dress and replace it with her softest pajamas—a matching tank top and sleep shorts. Her curvy body makes my mouth water, but I will my cock to stand down. She has given no hints that she wants sex tonight, not after everything she’s been through.
I turn out the lights and the three of us climb into the giant bed.
Madison takes my hand, and Seth’s. She holds them against her chest. “I can’t believe you were both here in Mexico, all along.”
“You don’t think we would’ve sent you away, do you?” Seth asks.
“You were pretty convincing.” She sounds irritated. “I don’t like being tricked or lied to. I could’ve acted like you weren’t anywhere around. We didn’t need to do the whole subterfuge.”
I squeeze her hand. “You’re right, bella. We should have been honest. We were anxious about Pointer’s spies, and his ability to read a situation.”
“Then it turned out to be useless in the end.” Seth tugs the blanket up higher on Madison, tucking her in. “We even had a body double for you, so he would think you were with us. He saw through that pretty fast.”
“You had a body double?” She sounds intrigued and annoyed in equal measure. “Did she stay in your room with you?”
“No.” I lift her hand and kiss her knuckles. “Are you jealous?”
“I might have been.” She lets out a big yawn. “No more tricks, okay? I don’t want you keeping information from me ‘for my own good.’ You have to trust me, so I can trust you.”
