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Don't Look

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I won’t give it up.

Using his temporary pause to my advantage, I snatch up the book and start running. I just have to get out of the house and past him. If I can beat him to the glass sliding door at the back of the house, I can find a way down into the canyon. I’m lucky he’s alone right now, without his ever-present gang of dead-eyed gangsters. I only have to elude one man. With my happiness at stake, I can do anything.

I sprint fast enough to make my legs burn, reaching the glass door and flipping the lock, but I only get half of my body through the opening when my father catches up, dragging me back into the house by my hair. No. My balance is lost and I go down, still clinging to the book, my eyes watering at the pain in my scalp.

“Where are you going, huh? Who are you running to?”

I make a grab for his wrist, hoping to ease the pressure of my hair being pulled, but I shrink back at his expression of rage. He’s going to kill me. The book is proof that I was going to betray him, and to him, that’s the ultimate sin. One that comes with the penalty of death.

We’re in the middle of the kitchen when my father flips me over onto my back and lands a smacking blow across my face. It renders me blind for long moments, church bells ringing in my ear. When I regain my sight, he’s kneeling between my thighs, his shaking hands coming toward my neck. They wrap around me tight there, squeezing. Stealing my ability to breathe.

There are no weapons left in my arsenal, so I try to beg with my eyes. Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t touch me. Please don’t kill me. But there is no rationality left inside him. There’s only the violent criminal. I don’t even think he knows who I am anymore. I’m merely another adversary who threatens his livelihood. I’m beginning to lose consciousness when I hear a click to my right.

“You’ve got two seconds to let go of her. After that, you’re getting a bullet in the head. Give me any excuse to pull this fucking trigger.” Mick’s voice is a chilling whip crack that echoes through the kitchen, but to me, it’s a shot of hope. Relief. Love. “One. T—”

My father moves so fast, he’s a blur. He whips a gun out from the inside of his jacket and fires at Mick. Once, twice. I scream. My father’s body jerks in mid-air and he lands on his back with a choked moan. Dead. His eyes are lifeless, his body unmoving. Dead. A pulse raps against my temples as I sit up, my body lethargic from lack of oxygen. In the distance, I hear my name being called and turn…and find Mick slumped against the wall, holding his chest.

“No,” I scream, scrambling in my father’s pooling blood, desperate to get to Mick. “No, please.” It seems to take an eternity to reach him, crawling across the floor with denials clogged in my throat. “Mick. Mick.”

“I’m okay, Goldie,” he rasps, wincing.

“No. No, you’re shot. This is all my fault. We have to call—” The sound of sirens cut me off. “Oh thank God. They’re coming. Please don’t die. Please. I love you. Please.”

Mick’s hands cup the sides of my face, bringing it close to his, allowing me to see the crackling life in his eyes. The intensity of his affection. “Hailey. Look at me. You think I’d let myself die now that I’ve found you?”

Hot tears roll down my cheeks. “But—”

“I’m wearing a vest, baby.” He drops one hand from my face, guiding my fingers to the bullet hole in his shirt. On the other side, I feel the hard material, the still-warm bullet lodged in the right side. Right over that part of him that beats just for me. “The only thing getting inside this heart is you.”

I climb up onto his lap, sobbing like a baby into his neck. And when his big arms close around me, I know I’m home. This man is my home.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No,” I reassure him. “No, he only managed to slap me. And then you were here. You came just in time. I’m fine.”

His chest shudders. “I’m sorry it had to happen this way, baby. I’m sorry you had to see this.” He curses under his breath. “But I’d do it all over again. I’d kill for you, no matter the price.”

“I know.”

I find Mick’s mouth and kiss him, whimpering when he tugs my hips closer, smoothing his hands down my backside. “Don’t run off on me like that again, Hailey. You damn near killed me. If I hadn’t reached you in time—”

My lips cut him off, followed by a slow tease of tongues. “You saved me. I was trying to save you, too. And I had the evidence you needed, right there in the book. Names of his clients. Dates and addresses. I wanted to help.”


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