Page 50 of The One Night Match (Mafia Matchmaker #1)

FIFTY

RILEY

S omething about hearing the lengths Cruz will go to for me gives me the strength to do the stupidest possible thing I can do.

Or at least that’s how it will look to everyone else standing in the clearing.

My body is weak, my vision blurred from the hit to the head, and Jeremy is seconds away from opening fire on everyone, something I refuse to allow.

This is my mess, my problem that I brought to Cruz’s doorstep, and I won’t allow anyone else to get hurt because of my past.

I use every ounce of strength I have left, which admittedly, isn’t very much, and shove Jeremy backward, catching him off guard.

He stumbles slightly, and I push harder. The edge of the hill is just a few steps away, and all I have to do is get us there.

The ground beneath our feet begins to give way, and my heart lodges itself in my throat as I give one final shove and Jeremy’s feet slip in the mud.

His hold on me tightens like he thinks it will stop him from going over, but he clearly doesn’t realize I intend to go down right alongside him.

The mud beneath us crumples, and before I can take my next breath, we’re sliding down the steep hill.

A sharp stone slices into my leg, but I’m so cold at this point I’m past feeling pain. I’m past feeling much of anything, really. Sticks and mud cling to me as we slide toward the ravine, and I desperately try to dislodge him.

Jeremy grabs at me, trying to hold on to me so I can’t escape, but in the process, he loosens his hold on his gun.

Before I can think better of it, I dive for the weapon, narrowly avoiding a tree as we pass it, and to my surprise, he lets it go without much of a fight.

I glance up at his face and notice the blood pooling along his hairline.

He must have hit his head on a rock or something, disorienting him.

We’re close to the bottom of the hill now, and our bodies gain speed through the steepest part of the slope.

This is my only chance. A few more yards and we’re in the water where I don’t have the hope of getting a shot off.

It’s now or never.

I’ve done a lot of shooting practice over the years.

I’ve spent days at the range. I’ve done live training drills to ensure that when it matters, I can do what needs to be done, but I’ve never had to shoot a target while sliding backward down a muddy hill with a potential concussion and probably hypothermia.

There’s a first for everything, I suppose. Too bad I have no other choice than to succeed.

If we get in the water and Jeremy gets hold of me, he will drown me. There’s not a doubt in my mind that he’ll take the opportunity to kill me. And to add another layer of complication to the situation, I’m not a strong swimmer.

The rain belts down on us like freezing cold ice, but I ignore it, turning my body as best I can and gripping the handle in both hands.

It takes longer than I would like to get my body steady enough to aim, but like I said, these are hardly perfect circumstances for shooting someone.

“You little bitch!” Jeremy slurs.

The tips of my lips turn up in a wicked smile as my finger tightens on the trigger. “See you in hell, asshole.” I squeeze, and a gunshot fills the night.

For a moment, I thought I’d missed. Aiming for his head was a risk, but it was the only way to ensure he died. But then I see it.

Blood pools around the wound in the center of his forehead as his body goes lax.

A savage sob tears from my throat.

I did it.

I fucking did it.

Holy shit.

I’ve never killed anyone before. I’ve never had to, and I always figured I’d have an immediate sense of guilt or grief if this day ever came. But all I feel is relief.

I’m close to the ravine now, the water rushing beneath me, and when I look over my shoulder for something to hold on to, all I see is empty space.

Fuck.

The water is moving fast, much faster than I’ll be able to swim with the way my body is feeling. Then add how inevitably cold it will be, and I don’t have a chance in hell of being able to fight the currents.

Falling into that water may as well be a death sentence, but perhaps death won’t be the worst thing in the world.

Peace.

No more pain.

No more heartache.

I never thought I’d go by drowning, but if I don’t have a choice in the matter, I guess it’s not the worst way in the world to die.

By the time I reach the ledge, I’ve already made peace with what’s about to happen, but I reach for a rock as one final effort to survive, and I slip. My body tumbles into the icy cold water, and a sharp pain slices through my head as I struggle to tell up from down.

Darkness inches into the edges of my vision, and water fills my lungs.

This is it.

This is how I die.

I just wish I had a chance to tell Cruz everything I was too scared to say before.