Page 30

Chapter Thirty

FINISHING UNFINISHED BUSINESS

~~Junie~~

Today can’t be the day I die. I have too much unfinished business, especially with Levi.

Oh, Levi. He knows something’s very wrong by now, as witnessed by the multiple texts and calls before Chef John grabs my phone and stomps on it with his heel until the thing is shattered into pieces.

Chef John shoves me onto a stool at the island counter. He thrusts a piece of paper across the counter along with a pen. “Write,” he orders.

I cross my arms and refuse to cooperate. If I’m going down, I’m doing it my way. He’s steaming, and I don’t care. I focus my attention on Milo, who’s unable to look me in the eye. If I had enough time, I might be able to get through to him.

Chef John presses the muzzle of his pistol to my head. I wince in pain, as he’s not exactly gentle. “Write the note. Now.”

The sooner I write it, the sooner I’ll be dead. He’s not going to kill me without that note. Then again, I really don’t know this man, and I might be wrong. He’s decidedly unstable. I must stall until help gets here.

What if help isn’t coming? What if Celeste wasn’t suspicious, and I misread her? What if Levi is so busy celebrating, he doesn’t notice my absence until it’s too late?

Too many what-ifs.

I need to work on right-nows. I take the pen from Chef John’s hand and stare at the blank piece of paper.

“Write,” he insists, as he presses the gun harder against my head. I hesitate. To make it out of this alive, I must appear cooperative while stalling for time in the near-futile hope rescue is on the way. I have to believe. People will miss me at the celebration, especially Levi. If he comes looking for me, his life could be endangered, and I don’t want that.

“I can’t think when you’re holding a gun at point-blank range against my head. What are you afraid of? It’s not like I can escape.”

His grin is sinister and whittles away at my courage. I try to stay strong, but I’m sinking into despair. Chef John’s eyes are wide with the crazed look of a madman. He’s not mentally stable, and how does one reason with a homicidal lunatic?

I put the pen to paper and slowly begin to write:

Dear Levi,

I don’t want things to end without telling you how much you mean to me.

I stare at the piece of paper and blink back tears.

“Keep going.” Chef John is growing impatient. My heart slams against my chest, and I gulp in breaths of air, but I still feel as if I’m choking.

You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I know I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you. LOL I’m sorry I never told you how I feel about you.

A lone tear slides down my cheek and lands on the paper, leaving an ink splotch on the word feel. A sob escapes despite my best efforts to remain stoic. I struggle to hold myself together. I want to be brave, but it’s impossible under these circumstances.

I lift my head to find Milo staring in my direction from across the room. Our gazes meet. Perhaps it’s wishful thinking, but I see horror in his eyes. I silently implore him to help me. He wavers, then turns his back on me.

“Don’t stop,” Chef John says through gritted teeth, barely containing his fury. “You don’t have to write a novel. Tell him you’re sorry, but you can’t go on living with all the pressures you’re facing.”

“He’ll never believe it.”

“Make him believe it.” Chef John is on the edge of flying into a rage. I have to stay calm and keep him from losing it if there’s any hope of getting out of here alive.

“Nothing I write will do that.” I raise my head and project calmness I don’t feel.

“Make it work. We don’t have all night.”

I bend over the paper and continue.

I love you, Levi. I’ve been imagining a future with you. Sadly, that’s not to be. Think of me fondly, but move on. Find a woman who treats you well and loves you for you. I’ll be rooting for you. Much love, Junie

My hand shakes so much the last sentence is close to illegible. I can’t stall any longer. I close my eyes and wait for the bang that’ll end my life. The gun presses against the side of my head once more. I hear a click as he cocks it.

“Goodbye, Levi. I love you more than you’ll ever know,” I whisper as I wait for the end. Will I feel pain, or will I feel only nothingness? Unchecked tears stream down my face.

A loud bang, followed by an even louder bang, deafens me. I fall to the floor and lie there, waiting for my final breath, my final heartbeat, my final thought, which I want to be about Levi.

I hear slamming and shouting as I curl into a little ball on the floor. Something warm drips across my forehead. I reach up and swipe at it before realizing it’s blood.

Surely I’m dying.

Someone is kneeling next to me. “Are you okay?”

I blink several times before I focus my overloaded brain on the person staring down at me with concern. It’s Milo.

“Am I dying?”

He shakes his head but isn’t able to say anything further as he’s hauled to his feet by several officers. I’m confused, and my head is ringing. Is this heaven or hell or somewhere in between? My eyes flutter closed, and I slip into oblivion.

~~Levi~~

We pull into the underground garage after blowing past security. I’m sure they’ll be on us in a second.

“Big E, you’re hired as a getaway driver if I ever need one,” jokes Vick in an attempt to lighten the mood. It doesn’t work.

I leap out of the SUV, poised to sprint down the corridor toward the kitchen, but the guys grab me and hold me back. I struggle like a madman, leaving them no choice but to knock me to the ground and hold me down.

“Fucking let me go, you assholes. Let me go. I have to get to Junie.”

My out-of-control rant has no effect on them, but they have a fight on their hands and know it. I’m determined to free myself and save Junie because by now my gut says she needs saving.

Easton pulls back his fist and punches me hard in the jaw. I see stars, and for a moment I’m helpless.

“What the fuck did you do that for?”

“Because you won’t listen. The police are here. Let them do their job. Your interference might get Junie killed,” Easton growls, not the least bit sorry that he almost knocked me out.

“Let me up.” My demands fall on deaf ears. I lift my head painfully and glance around. Seattle PD cars stream into the parking garage. I cease fighting. They are right. Let professionals handle this. Yet it’s so fucking hard for me to concede my power, not that I really had any.

“We’ll let you up if you promise not to be an idiot.” Vick glares down at me, and I scowl angrily.

“You want up, buddy? Then behave like an adult.” Easton’s temper flares, and I think he’s ready to punch me again.

“Fine, I’ll do as you say. Just let me up.”

My teammates exchange meaningful glances, but a few seconds later, they let me go. I shoot to my feet, but my reflexes are sluggish, and they hold me back. A uniformed officer approaches and asks what we know, which isn’t much. More cars appear, and my teammates and the WAGs stream out of them.

“I need to go to Junie.” I clench my jaw and narrow my eyes, letting this cop know I mean business. He’s not impressed.

“Don’t do anything stupid, son,” the officer warns me. “Or you can watch all this from the back of a squad car.”

“We’ll take care of him.” I freeze at the sound of Ice’s voice. The reinforcements are here, and I’m not going anywhere, no matter how much I want to. There’re too many of them, and only one of me.

I sigh deeply, feeling defeated, and lean against the car. Several of my teammates form a circle around me in case I try to bolt. I’m not going anywhere with this many bodyguards. Even so, I dart my gaze around in search of an escape route. There is none.

Celeste hurries to my side. I want to dislike her, but she may have saved Junie’s life.

“They’ll get him. Don’t worry.” Her sympathetic smile is the most genuine one I’ve ever seen from her. “Juniper will be fine. She’s a fighter. I’d put my money on her.”

In a different situation, I’d be struck speechless by Celeste’s words. She doesn’t sound like the selfish, entitled witch we’ve all come to know and dislike. Right now, though, she’s not my concern. Junie is.

“Thanks.” I have no other words. Celeste shrugs and moves to stand near Landon, who puts his arm around her.

“You holding up okay?” Ice studies me closely, most likely probing for signs that I’m about to go off the deep end again.

“No.”

Ice blinks a few times before he recovers. “I understand.”

I want to yell that he doesn’t understand. No one understands.

“I can’t lose her.” I sound so pathetic and helpless, which I am.

When I hear a gunshot, the entire team isn’t enough to hold me back. I barrel past the policemen streaming down the hall toward the kitchen.

They can’t stop me either. The door is open, and I rush inside before putting on the brakes. Chef John lies on the floor with a large gash in his head. Milo stands off to one side clutching a large cast-iron frying pan.

And Junie? Where the fuck is she?

Then I see her in a fetal position on the floor. A couple first responders are kneeled over her. I drop to my knees and reach for her hand.

“Is she—?” I can’t finish my sentence. I see the blood on her forehead. I’m too late. I throw back my head and release an inhuman-sounding howl, like a wounded animal.

An older cop glances up at me. “She’s going to be okay. Just fainted.”

“She. Just. Fainted?” I can’t comprehend his meaning. “But there’s blood.”

“From Chef John. He was next to her when Milo hit him over the head with a frying pan.”

“But I heard a gunshot.”

“It appears the gun went off when he was hit. There’s a hole in the ceiling.”

I stare upward briefly, but I don’t give a shit about holes in the ceiling. I only care about Junie.

“Move back, son, for the paramedics. We’re taking her to the hospital as a precaution.”

Reluctantly, I move away and watch helplessly as Junie is loaded on a stretcher. I walk beside her and hold her hand. Her eyelids flutter open, and I break into a smile. I hadn’t truly believed them when they said she was okay. Relief washes over me.

Junie manages a weak smile and squeezes my hand. “Am I okay?”

“Yeah, you’re fine.”

“Wha—What happened?”

I repeat what the policeman told me.

“Milo saved my life.”

“He did.”

“But not as much as you’ve saved mine.”

“Ditto.” I grin and manage a chuckle. “I love you, Juniper Diaz.”

“I love you, Levi. You’re the only one I want.”

“I’d say ditto again, but that’d be lazy of me.”

“Yes, it would.”

“Then I’ll tell you that I can’t imagine life without you in it. You make the bad times better and the good times epic. I promise to be the man you need.”

“You already are.” I lean down and kiss her cheek before they load her into the ambulance.