Page 61 of Every Broken Piece

Chapter fifty-seven

Tess

“ Y ou ready to go?” Pax is standing at the front door, hand on the knob, waiting patiently as I shove my new laptop into my new, bright red backpack. “Why’re you bringing that?”

“I want to get feedback from you guys on my new website design.”

“Cool,” is all he says, but I don’t care.

I know Pax is excited. He’s been helping me all week.

Jack has given his input about cybersecurity and writing code on the backend.

I have no idea what any of it means, but I trust him to keep me safe.

And Gabe’s been helping me set up my very own LLC.

It’s exciting and terrifying all at the same time.

I can’t help smiling even if I feel like throwing up.

For the first time ever, my life feels like it’s mine and I can’t wait to get it started.

“Was Kenzie helpful?” Pax asks as he opens the door while I slip my coat on then shrug my backpack over my shoulders.

“Extremely.” Kenzie is the girl from Starbucks that Pax told me about the night we got drunk.

They’ve been on two dates. He’s super casual about her while Kenzie is hoping for a lot more.

I like Kenzie. She’s smart. She knows website design and online sales.

She’s not charging me for her services but she’s using my website as her senior project and for her portfolio for when she looks for jobs.

I just hope Pax doesn’t break her heart.

We head out the door to meet Jack and Gabe for Thursday night pizza.

Gabe was supposed to be home yesterday, but an emergency meeting kept him in New York an extra day.

He’s going straight from the airport to meet us at the restaurant.

I’m almost giddy with excitement at seeing him for the first time in seven days.

A cold wind blowing down the street bounces snowflakes off us.

“So much for April weather,” I say as I zip my coat tighter.

Oh, yeah, that’s another gift that arrived this week while Gabe was in New York.

A coat for me, so silvery soft and warm that I almost want to bring it into my blanket cocoon with me.

He told me to stop telling him to quit buying me things because he enjoys providing for me.

I’m learning to accept with grace but it’s hard when you’ve been fiercely independent your whole life.

“Welcome to Denver,” Pax mutters as he buries his chin in his coat and his hands in his pockets.

But nothing can dim my excitement as we walk the few blocks to the restaurant.

“If I’d known it was going to be this cold I would’ve called for the car,” Pax says with a dramatic shiver.

“Almost there.” It’s just a few blocks and around the corner away. I pick up the pace because Gabe is also just a few blocks and around the corner away. And warmth. But mostly because I can’t wait to see Gabe.

I’m going to tell him I love him tonight.

I have it all planned out for when we’re finally alone.

I’ve wanted to say it so many times over the past few days, but I wanted to wait until he returned home.

No more delaying. No more holding back. I feel like that couple who were married on the red rocks, standing on the precipice of a new life and I can’t wait to get it started.

Traffic is nearly nonexistent because most people were smart and stayed inside on this cold, snowy night.

When we stop at a cross walk, Pax shivers and I tighten the straps of my backpack, the weight of my new computer a comfort.

I pull my phone out to text Gabe that we’re almost there but before I can open the app, a white catering van draws up to the curb beside us.

Pax takes a step back to make room as the side panel door slides open.

Two men dressed all in black, with black balaclavas over their faces jump out and rush us.

“What the hell.” Pax steps in front of me.

One of the men slams his shoulder into Pax’s chest, throwing him backward with a grunt of pain as the other man grabs my arms, yanking them behind my back and holding my wrists so tight that pain shoots through my injured wrist. My phone clatters to the ground.

Pax struggles to remain standing then lunges for me as a third man rounds the front of the van, leveling a gun at Pax.

“Enough,” the man with the gun says calmly.

Pax freezes, slowly raising his hands out to his side, his chest heaving.

“Run, Pax!” I yell.

The gun fires. With a cry, Pax drops to the ground.

“Pax!” I throw my weight forward, toward Pax. The man holding me stumbling forward but tightens his hold, yanking me back.

A blossom of red blood pours from Pax’s leg.

Holy crap. They shot Pax.

The man behind me wraps his leg around my ankle and yanks my leg out from under me. I cry out as my face bounces against the cold pavement.

I roll onto my back, but my backpack hinders me. I kick out, landing a blow to someone’s knee.

“Shut her up,” the man with the gun says.

The third man backhands me. My head whips to the side as pain explodes in my cheekbone then I’m yanked up by my arm.

Pax is curled on his side, clutching his leg, his hands covered in blood that's seeping into the pavement.

So much blood.

Too much blood.

This isn’t good. This is so bad.

The man with the gun points it at Pax’s head and turns beady, familiar eyes to me.

“Your choice, Theresa.”

Bad things happen, Theresa.

Only two people call me Theresa. Sandra and Ryan Carter.

“Please don’t.” I can barely see through my tears but I’m not above begging. I sink to my knees to plead for Pax’s life. “Please,” I whisper.

“Come with us quietly and I won’t shoot him.”

He’s supposed to be in Chicago. Hardwick promised he was in Chicago.

My butt lands on my heels and I hang my head in defeat.

Gabe.

I’m so sorry, Gabe.

“I’ll go,” I whisper. “Just don’t shoot him. Please.”

“No,” Pax grounds out between clenched teeth. “Tess.”

I won’t let them hurt Gabe’s son. I’ll end this now. No more running. No more hiding. No more being used by my mother. Just, please God, let it all end and save Pax.

I lift my head to glare at Carter. “I’ll go.”

I think of Gabe sitting at the restaurant waiting for us. We should have never dared to reach so high. I should have never allowed myself to hope.

“I don’t have your money,” I say to Carter.

“No, but your boyfriend does.”

I lift my chin. “I won’t let him give you the money.”

He steps closer, tips my chin up further with the muzzle of the gun. It’s still warm from the shot he fired at Pax, and I flinch. “You don’t have a choice, Theresa. Neither will he.”

He jerks his head, and the men drag me toward the van.

I struggle against their hold as terror locks its claws into me.

The man on my right is holding what looks like a gun. He presses it to my neck. I jerk away from him but they both have such a tight hold on me that I can’t move. I thought I was ready, but I don’t want to die. And I especially don’t want to die in front of Pax.

He pulls the trigger, and my entire body convulses as volts of electricity shoot through me.