CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

Vic points the gun at Jarel’s head.

But just as he goes to pull the trigger, he screams and drops to one knee.

The gun goes off.

The bullet rips through Jarel’s shoulder.

It ricochets off the wall and comes for me.

Angelo knocks me to the ground.

As we fall, the bullet whizzes past us.

He lies on top of me. His arms shield my face.

Vic lets go of the gun as his legs contort, and his body drops.

The paper falls out of his pocket and slides across the slick floor.

Blood darkens Jarel’s shirt and drips down his arm, but he runs at Vic and kicks away the gun.

Angelo lifts off of me, and I grab the paper. With shaking hands, I hastily fold it three times and shove it into my bra.

When I look down, I see a steak knife lodged in Vic’s calf.

Blood seeps out of the wound and down his leg.

Matt is crouched a few feet away, his hand still mid-air.

Nearby sirens blare.

Jarel places his foot on Vic’s back. “Stay down!” he commands.

“Doesn’t matter,” Vic spits. “You were just collateral. I came here to ruin Valen-fucking-tina, and I’ll still do that.”

With their guns drawn, three police officers burst through the door and scream for everyone to stay where they are. Jarel removes his foot as we put our hands up.

As the story unfolds, the police decide that Matt will have to go to the station to make a statement and hopefully avoid charges, and paramedics will take Jarel to the hospital. The medics also inform the police that Vic will need to go to the hospital before being taken to the station; the knife is lodged deep in his muscle.

The female cop handcuffs Vic, and when the medics help him onto a stretcher, he grins. “Check my pocket,” he says to the officer. “There’s something you’re gonna wanna see.” When she glares at him, he follows up, “It’ll help your case.”

She feels inside the pocket. “There’s nothing here. Are you fucking with us?”

Vic tries to move his hands, forgetting he’s handcuffed. “What?! No! It’s in there!” He frantically looks around the floor. “Maybe it fell out, but it’s here somewhere.”

“What is it?” one of the male officers asks.

“A piece of paper. A folded piece of paper that–” His search becomes more frantic. “It’s here somewhere. We have to look for it!”

“CSI will be here in ten minutes,” the third officer says. “They’ll find it.”

I’m barely able to string enough words together to make a statement. The cops tell me not to leave town; they may have more questions for me in the next few days.

I stop Matt before he gets to the door, and I give him the hardest hug I’ve ever given anyone. “Thank you, Matt.”

He pats my back. “We’ll talk later.”

It’s not the response I expected, but he smiles slightly when I pull away.

He points at the door. “I have to go see a guy about a thing,” he says, and one of the officers leads him out.

Jarel is being treated by a paramedic, and as people begin focusing on other things, Jarel gestures for me to come over. He looks into my eyes, and I see everything he wants to say.

But he doesn’t.

He doesn’t ask if I’m okay or what’s on the paper. He doesn’t tell me he saw me hide it or to hire a lawyer.

Instead, he touches my arm. “I should be out of the hospital in a few hours. Will you come over?”

I nod.

He takes my violently shaking hand and kisses my knuckles. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll see you in a few hours. It’s going to be okay.”

When they wheel away Jarel, Angelo wraps his arms around me. “C’mon, love. Let’s go.”

He walks me to his SUV and opens the door for me. He sends a quick text before starting the car and exiting the parking lot.

Once we’re on the road, he places his hand on my shoulder, but he doesn’t say anything until we pull into his driveway.

He helps me out of the vehicle. “C’mere.”

When he opens the door, he locks it before taking a throw blanket from the back of the loveseat. Then he sits on the couch and helps me sit next to him. He places a throw pillow in his lap and wraps me in the blanket.

I’m barely capable of my own movements as he positions me to lie down. My hands are still trembling when he wraps his arm around me.

He strokes my forehead and begins using his soothing touch to bring me back down. “You’re safe.”

Am I?

I wonder if he realizes the folded paper is still between my breasts.

What the hell am I going to do?

When CSI doesn’t find it, will the police assume that Vic is a liar? Or will they push me for information?

If I return it right now, I can say that I just took it in the moment. They’ll probably let that go.

If I don’t tell them, and they find out, I’m guilty of evidence tampering.

But if I give it to them, I’ll have to face the consequences of my terrible decisions in my past life.

If I keep it, do I hide it or destroy it?

Do I tell the guys?

Did they see me hide it?

Will they ask?

What the fuck am I going to do?

“Val,” Angelo says, “take a breath, my love.”

My voice is a strained whisper. “I’m so sorry, Angelo.”

“No,” he says fiercely. “Don’t apologize.”

“I shouldn’t have put you all in that position.”

“Hey,” he says with an edge. “I’m serious. You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t apologize for someone else being a piece of shit.”

His careful touch reminds me of his exploration of me during sex. “I need you,” I choke out, my voice breaking. “I need you to see me.”

His inhale is shaky, and he softens his voice. “I do see you, love,” he says. “Close your eyes.”

It’s a difficult request to honor, but I do.

His fingertips slowly outline my eyes, stroke my cheeks, and trace my lips. They caress my neck and brush my collarbones before restarting their dance.

Tears spill from the corners of my eyes, but he doesn’t brush them away.

“It’s just energy,” he says softly. “It’s just my touch. My love… It’s just what happens when I see you.”

Damn.

For half an hour, I take everything he’s willing to give me.

Touch. Love. Safety.

When his phone vibrates, he picks it up without breaking his pattern. “Yeah… That’s great… I’ll tell her… Talk tomorrow.” He hangs up and sets the phone on the end table. “Matt’s done at the precinct,” he says. “No charges are being filed. He’s going to visit Julie and Tracey, and he says to tell you that he’ll check on you in the morning but that you’re welcome to call if you need anything.”

“Does he sound mad?”

“No. He sounds relieved… Val, look at me.”

I open my eyes.

“None of us are your father. We don’t get pissed for bullshit reasons or blame you for shit that isn’t your fault.”

“I–I know, but… today was…”

How do I tell him that it wasn’t my fault but that I’m not completely innocent either? How do I tell him that what Vic did was wrong but what he felt was justified? And how do I say any of that without exposing my secret?

He’s stroking my forehead, waiting for the words I’ll never let exist.

“You’re right,” I say instead. “I know.”

He leans down and kisses me, and a strong current makes me spasm.

“Not yet,” I say, taken aback by my involuntary reaction. “I can’t yet.”

“Sorry,” he says gently. “I didn’t think about it.”

The corner of my lips twitch. “You just see me, and you have to kiss me?”

He chortles. “Something like that.”

The guilt punches me in the stomach. “Angelo,” I whisper, “you’re okay?”

He nods. “I’m okay, love.”

“Thank you for today.”

“No need to thank me. I’m glad I was there.”

I sigh. “I know I said I wasn’t in a rush, and I’m still not, I guess, but today reminded me of how short life really is, how short it can be. I want to start actively looking at houses, Angelo.”

“We will. I’ll find your dream home, and we’ll be one enormous, happy family.”

Assuming I’m not in jail.