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I don’t know this woman from one I’d walk past on the street, but her stupidity is about to get her killed. I know Spade would’ve already shot the man had he thought for a second he could do it and not hit his woman.
I step up on to the porch, pressing my gun to his head. “Give me a fucking reason.”
Will doesn’t spin around to face me, but he doesn’t lower the knife either. It’s clear he’s fucking deranged, his mind only able to focus on Sylvie standing in front of him.
“Drop the fucking knife,” I demand.
Varon smiles, the sight of it making me wonder just how fucked in the head he is, but then Sylvie is shoved to the side and Spade is plowing through the door.
The knife goes flying, and it’s as if with Sylvie out of his direct line of sight, Varon can finally focus on what’s actually going on.
He tries to run, tries to fight us off, but it’s impossible. Spade is like an attack dog and won’t even let the man take a breath as he’s flung off the porch, breaking it.
As if the night comes alive, men with guns at the ready appear from the darkness. Before I can put a bullet in Varon’s head, his hands are locked behind his back with zip ties and he’s being led away. I feel no sense of closure as he’s roughly shoved into the back of an SUV.
I want to argue with them, remind them that he’s mine to deal with because I just can’t seem to let this case go, but the sound of sirens quickly approaching make my decision for me.
“Hey,” Spade snaps as I start to fade back into the shadows.
He watches my face for a moment before he holds his hand out. I look down at the thing, knowing what he wants but unwilling to just give it to him as he demands it.
“I appreciate your help,” he says, not seeming to be bothered that I don’t shake his hand.
I manage a nod.
“Say thanks by not bringing my name up in the report,” I say before walking away.
The last thing I want is to be here when the cops show up.
As I climb back into my truck around the corner, I just don’t feel right. Maybe it’s the gratitude Spade showed but doing something good just for the sake of it isn’t how I normally operate. Thinking of the pain that little girl suffered and letting it drive my actions is something the old Angel would’ve done. I haven’t been that man in a very long time, and I don’t like how it makes me feel.
As I crank the truck and drive away, I have this insistent urge to counter it by doing something terrible to level things out again.
Chapter 14
Lauren
It’s been literally days since I climbed out of Angel’s truck.
Days since I’ve seen another face.
I’ve been holed up in this motel room since I closed the door the night after leavingJake’s.
I have no fucking will to leave the room, and I hate when I get like this.
It’s dangerous. To my mental health. To my body. To anyone who bothers me.
I’m like a caged animal, only I’m the one who holds the power to escape my capture.
Images flash in my head, memories I’ve tried for years to block out.
My life is a vicious fucking circle.
Need the pain, get the pain, regret the pain, need the pain again.
I fucking hate it, and I hate myself for it, but I guess that’s sort of the point to my life.
Hating myself comes easy. I can live in it, dwell on the things I missed, the things I could’ve done. I can let it fester and hurt, infect every part of me. I roll it all inside and let it turn septic, eating away at me, but without work, I have no true outlet for it.