Truths and Lies Duet
Zoe’s screams get louder and louder. She’s pissed. I’d like to think it’s because she hears my voice and wants me, but she’s only six months old, so that’s probably not right. I don’t know much about babies. What I do know is she’ll be one happy kid the moment she’s in her mother’s arms rather than this cunt’s.
“He doesn’t want you,” I grind out. Delusional bitch. “You were always a cover for him.” That much I realize now. Had I thought he was remotely interested in Talia, I would’ve shaken him down a lot sooner. But the fact he pretended to love Selene and I thought he wanted to marry her, he was able to fool me.
“He does want me!” she cries out. “He loves me and one day I’ll give him a baby of our own. We won’t need that stupid bitch’s baby anymore!”
This is taking too long.
Adrian is probably outside wondering what’s going on but won’t enter, especially if he overhears me trying to talk her down. But Talia? She’s probably panicking. I know her. The last thing I need is her flying in here like a loose cannon upsetting the situation even further.
“Put the gun down,” I command, my voice loud and sharp.
Crash!
The motel shakes as something explodes nearby. It’s enough to distract Selene to jerk her head toward the sound, dropping her guard.
Pop!
I put a bullet on the part of her body farthest from my daughter. Her foot. She screams, dropping Zoe, who rolls to the floor with a loud thud. My daughter screams—which is music to my fucking ears considering the drop to the floor—and I stalk forward. She’s okay. Selene raises the gun and I put a bullet into her shoulder. Another one pierces her throat. I want to make her hurt. She gurgles, grabbing her throat as blood sprays. With my eyes on her, I scoop up Zoe, tucking her under my arm like a football. Selene gapes at me as she tries and fails to stop the blood flow.
Pop!
I hit her in the stomach. I want her to bleed to death, thinking about what she did. How she struck my goddamn daughter. How she hurt my wife. How she aided my brother in an unimaginable crime.
Tucking my gun into the back of my jeans, I pull Zoe to my chest and kiss her sweaty head. “Shh, I’ve got you.”
Selene has slumped against the headboard of the bed, but she’s still alive, trying desperately to hold onto her life. I stalk over to her and grab a handful of her greasy red hair. Slamming her head down, I connect it with the corner of the end table, ending her misery early. Her skull cracks and she’ll be dead in seconds. If I had more time or if I didn’t have my daughter in my arms, I would’ve tortured her.
Turns out, I’m a family man now.
Torture can’t happen at every enemy encounter. Sometimes I need to be quick and efficient to get back to what’s important.
“Let’s go see Mommy now,” I coo to Zoe. “Daddy’s here. No need to be upset.”
Zoe grabs my shirt and screams, still super pissed at being slapped, screamed at, and then dropped. Fuck, I’d be pissed too. Holding her to me, I step outside the door I kicked in and frown when I see Adrian’s SUV rammed into the unit beside this one. Talia is sitting behind the wheel looking every bit like a mafia queen. Wild eyes. Furious stare. Protective motherly aura rippling toward me in hot waves.
“What did you do to my fuckin’ car, woman?” Adrian gripes as he comes up behind me.
“I stayed in the car!” she yells out. “I obeyed! Now bring me my baby!”
Zoe screams harder and tries to flip out of my grip.
Someone wants their mother.
Talia
My first thought when I saw Kostas stalking toward the SUV with our baby in his arms was that she’s alive and safe and I can finally breathe again. My second thought was how fucking sexy my husband looked holding our daughter to his chest like she’s his entire world. Those hands that are capable of killing and torturing are also capable of being gentle and loving. When his eyes met mine, I could see the hardness in his light eyes—quite the contradiction—but the moment he looked down at Zoe, who was crying, his eyes went soft. The same way they go soft when he looks at me.
Once I stop staring at his eyes, and how precious our little girl looks in his arms, I notice the blood. Blood everywhere. All over their clothes, and splattered across their flesh.
“Is that blood?” I jump out of the driver’s seat and run around the back, needing to get to Zoe and Kostas. “Is she bleeding?” I snatch her out of Kostas’s hands and start checking her for injury. Her face is red and swollen from crying and there’s a handprint mark on her thigh, but there’re no cuts.