Hooked: A Stepbrother Romance (26 page)

“No, of course not. You came back to
help people
, didn’t you? To spread the gospel about professional sports, to make everyone cry with little tales of redemption. Aren’t you such a
wonderful person
,” he said, the effort to turn his voice high-pitched and sarcastic sending him into a small coughing fit. “How about you tell them the
real
trick? Let your friend die on the street, run away, and get lucky.”

My jaw clenched tight, fingers curling into rock hard fists. “Stay the fuck away from them,” I said, my voice suddenly as dry as his.

“Simon, Simon, Simon. You might be grown up, but you’re still a goddamn idiot,” Argus said, nodding to the two goons who were flanking me. They both charged towards me, one of the men tackling me and wrestling me to the floor. Instinctively, I raised my foot with as much strength as I could gather and kicked the other in the face, using the force of his charge to send him tumbling down to the ground in a heap.

With his friend stunned, the remaining man sent his knee into my chest as he frantically tugged at his jacket. I knew he was probably looking for a gun, but I didn’t give a shit. The rage that had been building up in me since talking to Marjorie was now a maelstrom of raw hatred, and with a loud groan I managed to flip him onto his back a couple feet away from me, on top of his friend.

I lunged to my feet, rushing over to the guard as he struggled to stand back up. My fist connected with his gut, and his slammed into my mouth in retaliation. Blood poured down my chin as my lip split from the pressure, and I slammed into the man with all my strength. Pinning him against the wall, I rained down more blows into his chest and stomach while he futilely tried to defend himself.

Playing dirty, his fingers went to gouge my eyes, but I was too fast for him. With all pretenses of an honorable fight now gone, I held his neck against the wall with my forearm while slamming into his testicles repeatedly with my knee. He groaned, collapsing the moment I stopped holding him up.

Trembling with rage and adrenaline, I bent down and ripped the man’s blazer off of him, the seams popping as they ripped at the shoulder while he moaned in pain. The gun he’d been searching for spilled onto the floor, and I snatched it up before he had a chance to move.

Looking down at him, I could see his eye almost swollen shut as he squinted at the weapon.

“Don’t get in my fucking way a second time,” I roared at him, kicking him in the stomach one last time before turning to face the other man. He was a lot smaller than the first, and twitching as he started to come back to his senses. I didn’t waste any time before bending down to search his clothes, finding the gun I knew he’d have somewhere. I clicked the safety on and shoved it into my pocket, using my free hand to lift the man and throw him on top of his friend.

With one gun still in hand and adrenaline screaming in my ears, I walked towards Argus with a manic look in my eye. He was hunched over, but his wizened face was arrogant and unafraid.

Trembling with rage, my eyes went wide as Argus began to laugh. Not the petty, sardonic laugh of earlier, but in genuine amusement.

“Go ahead, get it over with you worthless little punk. You think I’m afraid? Hurry it up now, or the cancer will do it for you.”

Spitting blood on his face, I raised the gun in his direction and put my finger on the trigger very slowly.

“It’s never going to bring him back,” Argus said, and for the first time a little uncertainty crept into his voice. I stared at his face as his wrinkled, white skin turned even paler. I could see the same fear and uncertainty that had been in Jake’s eyes so long ago.

“Do it,” he wheezed.

The shot resonated all around the room, deafening me.

Ten years, and I still have nightmares.

How much it hurt when the bullet grazed my shoulder.

The wild, terrified look in his eyes while he clawed at my arm.

The horrible gurgling.

I’ll never forget that noise.

Never.

I am not available right now, but please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.
 

My lips moved in sync with Simon’s voice mail greeting as I was, once again, met by the same impersonal announcement. My stomach roiled with worry as I tilted my head back and sighed, my hand sliding down along my leg. I ground my teeth as the phone beeped at me, telling me to leave a message as if everything were normal.

Across from me, the clock on the wall said it was almost midnight.

Simon was late. Very, very late.

I didn’t know what to do with myself anymore, trying to steady myself and not worry. I’d tried everything I could think of to distract myself, but as the hours ticked on my fears became more and more incessant. Finally, it seemed there was no way to deny them.

I’d been staring at my phone since ten.

He’d left early in the morning after our daily jog in the local park, heading for town where he’d had urgent errands to run. I should’ve known something was wrong then, when he’d been cagey about what he planned on doing, but the truth was I hadn’t worried at all.

We’d been almost inseparable all summer long, but we’d
always
gotten back together quickly on those few occasions when we needed to part for a few hours. I hadn’t subjected him to my friend’s baby shower, for example, or to go dress shopping with Lena.

For his part, he’d visited an old friend who was passing through the area, and went on an interview with a local news channel who’d gotten wind of his presence in town. He visited his mother often, and several times a week he would spend a whole afternoon slaving over workout machines at the gym, striving to counter my so-called “decadent cooking” and keep himself in shape for the upcoming World Cup.

So, it wasn’t exactly as if we’d never been apart. It had happened quite a bit, but it was never an issue. He’d always been back in time for an evening stroll, for drinks at our favorite bar, and for a night of lovemaking and cuddling.

But now, suddenly, he wasn’t back tonight.

Or even answering his phone.

My nerves were beyond shot.

I’d thought of calling his mom, but I had no way of contacting her. I’d thought of calling the hotel, but they wouldn’t give me any information. Time ticked on, the anxious buzzing in my head getting louder with each passing second.

When the clock finally turned to midnight, I’d had enough. I jumped out of my chair and called a taxi. Less than half an hour later, I was standing outside his hotel room door.

I won’t ever talk about him.

He’s dead and nothing will ever get him back.

Particularly not a fucking diary.

Of course I’d wanted to shoot him. I’d placed the barrel of the gun straight between his evil, milky eyes and took a deep breath, imagining his brains splattering across the large window behind his wheel chair.

I had nothing to lose, I thought. My life was in shambles, and this whole incident had taught me that there was no way I could ever truly move past Jake’s death.

Never.

The most I could do was to help make sure that this evil old man didn’t hurt anyone else.

But when I tried to pull the trigger, something stopped me.

Emilia.

My life didn’t matter, but hers did.

Jerking my hand into the air, I aimed the gun straight up and pulled the trigger. The noise was like a hammer striking me in the ear, and a thick cloud of plaster dust fell from the ceiling above us.

It was too late for me, but Emilia still deserved happiness. A good, sane husband. Healthy kids. No scars, no trauma, no painful memories.

She deserved everything that I could never give her.

Withdrawing with the least fuss was now the only option I had left.