“This. Is. Awesome!” Elio races around the playroom Sunday evening with his eyes bugging out of his head. Having arrived back at the penthouse a little after four, I had just enough time to finish the space station before Cristian returned with his son. “This is sooooo cool.” Elio stops beside the flag with the rocks. “Daddy, take a pic of me and send it to Nonna and Nonno, and Grandma and Grandpa.”
Cristian chuckles as he takes out his cell phone.
“Hold that thought!” Pressing my mouth to Cristian’s ear, I whisper, “I’ll get the astronaut costumes.”
I race to my room to grab them. Walking into the closet, I deliberately avoid the hiding space where the cartel cell is. I didn’t send the schedules, deleting every pic so the decision is final, and I couldn’t change my mind. Not that I would. It’s the right call. I cannot place anyone else in danger. My stomach lurches as the thought lands in my mind. Sleep evaded me last night, despite the comfort of Cristian’s arms, because I couldn’t stop thinking about those missing women and kids.
I did that.
They are missing because of me.
I know the cartel has done something to them.
I haven’t eaten anything all day because I’m sick to my stomach thinking of what could be happening to them right now. Maybe they’re dead and I’m an accomplice to murder. I deserve to be locked up because I’ve done everything all wrong. I’ve made the worst decisions, and now other innocent people are paying the price. I’ve considered using the handgun Cristian gave me to end it now, but that’d be the most supremely selfish act of all. Taking my life without trying to right my mistakes would be cowardly, and I’ve got to try to fix things.
Cristian needs to hear the truth.
He will hate me, but he’s the only one who can possibly help now.
Hindsight is torment of the highest degree. It’s easy to look back now and see the situation more clearly. I should’ve taken a risk and told Cristian from the start because the harsh truth is Mom and I were never getting out of this alive. Pablo played me like a finely tuned instrument, pulling all the right strings to make me do his bidding. If I’d succeeded, he still would’ve killed us or used us as cartel playthings until we no longer served any purpose. Our lives were fully over the moment we were kidnapped in Cancun. I know that now.
Bending over, I clutch my aching stomach as wracking pains assault me from the inside.
I’ll never see my mother again, and she’ll have died because of me. Slumping to the floor, I raise my knees to my chest as I stare straight ahead. I can’t even cry. Something intrinsic is broken inside me, and I’ll never be the same again.
All day, I’ve tried to find the courage to tell Cristian, but the words wouldn’t come out. So, I’m giving myself this last night before I bring everything crashing down around us.
The fantasy ends in the morning.
The stakes are too high, and there can be no more delays.
On autopilot, I climb to my feet, retrieve the costumes, and walk back to the playroom.
“I’m an asonaut!” Elio proclaims, puffing out his chest and glancing at his reflection in one of the silver foiled panels. Thankfully, the costume fits, and he looks so cute. “This is the best day of my life.” Turning around, he throws himself at me, hugging my legs. “And you’re the best nanny ever.” I lift him up, and he circles his legs around my waist and flings his arms around my neck. “I wish you were my mommy,” he whispers before burying his face in my neck and squeezing me tight.
I can’t stop the tears as they silently glide down my face.
Can a broken heart break all over again? Because that’s what it feels like inside my chest right now.
I can’t even see Cristian through my blurry vision to note his reaction. When his arms envelop us in a group hug, I cling to my little family, wanting this to be my reality more than anything. How I wish I had a time machine so I could go back and do everything differently.
“Sloane.” Elio’s cute little voice snaps me out of it.
“Yes, my little prince?”
“Why are you crying?”
I swipe at my eyes as Cristian holds us steady while gently rubbing my shoulders. “Sometimes adults cry when they’re happy, and you make me happy, Elio.”
“Oh.” His brow puckers for a few seconds before smoothing out. “You make me happy too.” He plants a light kiss to my lips before shimmying down my body. “Can we play space station now?” He grabs my hand as Cristian presses a kiss to the top of my head.
“Absolutely.” I dry my eyes, refusing to ruin this last precious night together. Grabbing the remaining costumes from the bag, I thrust one at Cristian. “Time to suit up, handsome.”
I stare at Cristian in the dark like I’ve been doing for the past few hours since he fell asleep after making love to me several times. He’s so beautiful. The best of men, and I’m so lucky I got to share these last few weeks with him and his adorable son. My biggest regret is never telling him I love him. I couldn’t say it because it wouldn’t have been right, and even if I did, he wouldn’t believe it once he learns the truth. Cristian will doubt my feelings are real, and that guts me because none of it was fake.
Daylight won’t be long now, and the fantasy will be over. I’ve had a taste of how perfect my life could’ve been. It was more than I ever dared to dream of. Hoping for forgiveness is futile, as is hoping Cristian can get my mother out alive. I have missed Pablo’s deadline, and she could already be dead.
My eyes squeeze shut as pain rattles through me, and I curl into Cristian’s warmth in one last act of selfishness. His arms pull me close, even in sleep, and I silently fall apart while he cradles me to his bare chest.
When slivers of light creep through the blinds, I slowly extract myself from Cristian’s safe embrace and pull on my robe. Padding in my bare feet to Elio’s room, I am careful as I open the door so as not to wake him. This little boy has come to mean the world to me, and I am going to miss him badly. Pain ruptures my heart as I kneel beside his bed, snapping a picture of him so I can remember him like this, looking angelic, happy, and peaceful in sleep.
My heart won’t be the only one breaking after today, and it’s killing me.
I’m numb as I pack a bag, leaving all the clothes Cristian bought me on the hangers. After storing my bag in the closet, I grab jeans, underwear, and a hoodie and take a quick shower.
Cristian is still asleep when I return to his bedroom. He’ll wake soon with his alarm, but I can’t wait any longer. He needs to know now. Perched on the side of the bed, I lean over and whisper, “I love you, and I’m so sorry,” before kissing him softly on the lips. I will never forget how amazing it feels to be loved by this man, and I’ll never stop missing him.
The pressure in my chest is so intense it feels like I might rupture into billions of atoms and disintegrate into nothing. A choked sob rips from my lips before I can trap it. It’s a miracle it doesn’t wake him, but he’s still sound asleep. It takes effort to compose myself, but I swore I wasn’t going to cry or beg. I’ve got to own my mistakes, accept the consequences, and I can’t be an emotional mess. There will be time to fall apart later. I lightly shake him. “Cristian, wake up.”
He murmurs, reaching for me automatically, and pain pummels me from the inside, but I force myself to be strong. “Cristian,” I speak louder. “I need you to wake up. I have to talk to you.” Running my fingers through the stubble on his face, I call his name again, and this time, his eyes pop open.
“Sloane,” he rasps in a sleep-heavy voice. “You’re dressed.” Concern is instant as he rubs his eyes and sits up against the headrest. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything,” I whisper, struggling to keep my emotions at bay when I look at him.
“I’ve got you, beautiful.” He reaches out for me again, but I scramble off the bed, shaking my head, and folding and unfolding my hands.
“I need to tell you things, Cristian. Important things, and I need you to get dressed.” I can’t do this with him naked in the bed where we’ve shared so many intimate moments. “I’ll make coffee and wait for you in the kitchen.”
I don’t wait for a reply, turning around and walking off, praying my nerves hold because I’m already a mess. I fix two coffees on autopilot while shivering and shaking. I’m so cold inside, and it feels like I could throw up any second. Nerves jump around my chest, and my stomach twists painfully as I wait for him to appear. Cradling the mug in my frozen hands, I take little sips, praying I keep it down.
Footsteps approach, and my entire body locks up. This is it. The moment when I lose the only man I’ve ever loved.
“Our talk will have to wait,” Cristian says, still buttoning up his shirt as he enters the room. “There’s an emergency. I have to go.”
“What emergency?”
He leans in, kissing me quickly. “I’ll tell you later. Kiss Elio for me.”
The front door slams a few seconds later as I stand in shock in the kitchen. My entire body convulses as I slump over the island unit, my heart racing so fast it feels like it might jump out of my chest.
“Sloane.”
My head lifts at Elio’s sleepy voice. “Good morning, my little prince.” My smile is instant despite my heartbreak. It looks like I’m getting one more day with this little guy, and I refuse to waste it being glum.
“Is Daddy gone to work already?”
“He is.” I scoop him up and place him on the counter. “How about pancakes for breakfast?”
“But it’s not pancake day.”
Pancakes are usually only served on Saturdays, but I’m throwing out the rulebook today. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“Deal.” He holds up his hand for a high five, and I vow to give him the best last day ever.
I’m on edge as I watch Elio run around the playground in Central Park, keeping one eye on him and watching for any sign of Diego or Alvaro with the other. I didn’t take my cartel cell—I’ve been afraid to even look at it today—but that doesn’t mean we weren’t tailed. Trying to keep Elio in all day didn’t work because he’s not the kind of kid who can be cooped up inside. He was begging me to come to the park for ages, and I relented after lunch. With four armed bodyguards protecting us, it should be safe. Especially when we’re in public, in a crowded part of the park, in the middle of the day. Still, I can’t relax, and I won’t until we are safely back indoors. I don’t know how long it will take the cartel to come for me, but I plan to be far away from Cristian and Elio when they do. My fingers curl around the Glock in my jeans pocket, and it offers a modicum of comfort. “Five more minutes,” I call out when Elio looks my way.
“I wish I had a tenth of his energy,” John Angelo says, chuckling as Elio whizzes down the slide for the umpteenth time.
“You and me both. He’s a live wire.”
“He’s a great little guy.”
“He is the best. It only took about three seconds for him to claim my heart.”
“How long was it for the boss?” John Angelo asks with a wink.
“Instant.” I don’t even hesitate to offer him complete honesty.
“He’s crazy about you too. We can all tell.”
His words are meant to reassure me, but he might as well have taken a dagger and shoved it straight through my heart. It’s said there’s a fine line between love and hate. I wonder how long it will take for Cristian’s love to blacken and transform into hate?
John Angelo frowns as he looks at me, but he doesn’t pursue the conversation, and I’m glad.
I have to practically drag Elio out of the playground a few minutes later. “Please, Sloane. Five more minutes,” he begs, and I hate disappointing him, but my nerves can’t handle being outside any longer. I want to get him back indoors where he’s safe.
“I’ll have to start making dinner soon, and I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“What is it?” he asks, clasping my hand and grinning as we exit the park with two bodyguards behind us and two in front.
“Want to learn how to make paper airplanes?”
“You can do that?” His eyes widen.
“Yep.”
“Yay. I’m gonna make one for my daddy.”
Screeching tires skidding on asphalt claim my immediate attention, and my pulse races in my veins as I whip my head around. My heart thumps wildly against my chest wall as a black van stops at the curb a few feet behind us. The back door slides open, revealing six armed men clad in black, wearing balaclavas. Our four bodyguards pull out their guns as screams echo around us. “Give us the kid, and no one gets hurt,” one of the men shouts as they jump out of the van and start walking in our direction.
Reacting on instinct, I scoop Elio into my arms. “Hold on tight, and don’t let go.”
“Get Elio and Sloane out of here,” John Angelo bellows at Umberto and Clint as the kidnappers come closer.
“Go, Sloane.” Clint places his arm behind me and prods me forward.
My legs are pounding the sidewalk before I’ve even processed the motion. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins as I push my limbs faster, desperate to get away from the men who wish to do Elio harm. I will die before I let them take him. More screams pepper the air as gunshots are traded behind us. Elio is crying, clinging to me with his head buried in my neck. His entire body is trembling.
“Shit,” Clint says. “Run, Sloane.” Warmth fades as he falls back.
“Aim for the front entrance,” Umberto says, dropping back into Clint’s vacant position. “Get out onto the main road where it’s busy. They won’t follow.”
My feet pound the pavement as I run, hugging Elio tight to me.
“Fuck,” Umberto shouts, still running behind me. Alarm bells ring in my ears, but I don’t look back. My sole focus is getting Elio out of here to safety.
“Keep going, Sloane,” Umberto adds. “Get to the main road and call for help.”
I scream as gunshots sound closer, and I feel the loss of Umberto behind me. Bile swims up my throat, but I try to stay calm. Elio is counting on me, and he’s not getting hurt on my watch.
“I’m scared,” Elio cries.
“I know, sweetie. Keep your head down.” Up ahead, throngs of parkgoers are causing a traffic jam at the main arch in their haste to get out of the park. I’m praying some police officers show up soon. Surely, someone has raised the alarm by now? The woman running beside me screams, tumbling to the ground with blood gushing from her leg.
I don’t stop to think; I dart left, taking the side path that circles around to the information kiosk.
Elio screams when a shot whizzes over our heads, and warmth trickles down my leg when he wets himself. I’m panicking as I race forward, cradling Cristian’s son to my body, begging someone up there to help me.
“You can’t run from this, Sloane,” a man with a horribly familiar voice says, and my legs almost go out from under me. I look behind me at the man in the mask chasing me. He’s eating up the distance between us, but he appears to be the only one. Farther down the road, bullets are crisscrossing through the air, flying over a few prone bodies on the ground.
Making a split-second decision, I dart behind a cluster of trees out of sight and put Elio down. “You need to run to the nice lady in the kiosk.” Elio makes a point to say hello to the volunteers who man the information kiosk every time we come here, and they all dote on him. Hailey is on duty today, and she can hide him inside. I point toward the path ahead, in the direction he needs to go. “Run as fast as your legs will carry you, Elio, and don’t stop for anyone or anything. Run to Hailey, and tell her to call the police.”
“Sloane, I’m scared.”
“Be brave like a superhero. I’ll be right behind you.” I give him a gentle push. “Go now, Elio. Run fast, and don’t look back. Keep running. Go. Go.”
He takes off crying, pushing his little legs, and I pray he makes it. I flatten my back to the tree and swipe a thick fallen branch from the ground as I wait. A modicum of relief settles when Elio rounds the bend up ahead out of sight.
“I’ll kill him, Sloane,” Diego taunts, his voice so close it causes goose bumps to sprout on my arms. “I don’t care if Pablo wants the kid alive. I’ll kill him and make you watch.”
No one is hurting Elio. If I only get to do this one thing, I will make sure Elio is safe. A snap to my left spurs me into action, and I swing the branch, putting every ounce of strength I have into the motion.
Diego curses as the branch hits him, and he falters. His gun clatters to the ground. I move to kick it away, but his hand wraps around my ankle, and he tugs. Screams rip from my lungs as I end up in a tangled heap on the ground with the bastard. I kick out and swing my fists as he tries to grab me. We roll around for a few beats, and I lash out, kicking, screaming, and clawing at his mask. Pain skitters across my jaw when his fist connects with my face, momentarily stunning me. Climbing onto my legs, he pins me to the ground, flashing me a savage grin.
“You stupid whore.” He grabs my neck and squeezes as I attempt to reach my gun without him noticing. “You had one job, and you couldn’t even do that right. It’s your fault your mother is a dead bitch and El Rey changed the plan.” I try to buck him off, panicking as I struggle for air. My fingers find my jeans pocket and slip inside. “Killing DiPietro is too easy.” His fingers loosen a little as he brags about the new plan. “Taking his kid will torture him forever, especially when we groom him to be a cartel killer.” My finger curls around the trigger as I slowly slide my gun out. “Killing his whore is an added bonus,” he adds, retightening his fingers around my throat.
I shove the gun into his stomach and pull the trigger.
Diego’s eyes flare wide, and he releases me when his hands automatically gravitate to the bullet wound leaking blood from his gut. My hands shake as I shoot him in the stomach again and push him off me. “I’m not the one dying today.” I shoot him a third time for good measure, watching the blood pooling around him with sick satisfaction.
Then I remember Elio, and I shove my gun in my back pocket and take off running in the direction of the kiosk. Please be safe. Please be safe. Please be safe. I repeat it over and over as I run.
Excruciating pain rips through my calf, and I scream before face-planting the grass, eating a mouthful of dried leaves. Sobbing, I push off the ground, grab my gun, and sit up. Scooting around on my butt, I point my gun straight ahead, ready to fight to the bitter end, but there’s no one chasing me. The injury to my leg was Diego’s dying shot. He’s lying face down, unmoving, his arm outstretched with rigid fingers curled around his gun.
Ignoring the pain, I smother my sobs and stagger to my feet, hobbling toward the kiosk, praying I find Elio there.
