Soberness never occurs so quickly to me in my life. Gasping, I stare at the eyes that are looking back at Hunter. I told you so, they yell at me. Hunter sits in a wooden chair with a taped dirty rag used as a gag for his mouth. His ankles are restrained in rope that’s wound around the legs of the chair. His hands are cuffed behind the back of the chair. His clear blue eyes are wide and he’s staring right at me in rage, in mock. His gaze is extremely transparent. It makes me sick with guilt. My heart plummets into my stomach when I notice Max bound in the exact way in the next chair that’s back-to-back to Hunter’s. Max has blood running down the side of his right temple and he’s out cold.
“You took my son away from me, Gamila.”
“Mr. Gabai. What are you doing?”
“Killing all of you soon, but first you must know why, yes?”
My lips begin to tremble. “Mr. Gabai. Please. Don’t-don’t do this. Please.”
“Shh, Gamila. Your beloved Hunter came straight to me when I informed him that I had you. No hesitation. There is no limit in which he loves you, Gamila. It was a trap, of course. But I don’t think that mattered much to him. I can see and appreciate the type of man he is—strong and unyielding. My boy is very different from him. Max is strong and unyielding in such a humbling way that you will not recognize his love until your helplessly drowning in it.” He stands, dusting his hands on the back of his black slacks. He strokes Max’s hair a few times, tenderly kisses the top of his slanted head. “I love my son, but he must completely understand with absolute clarity what happens when he disobeys me. I am where his loyalty should lie. Not you, Gamila. But I do acknowledge the powerful influence love can have over someone.” He pauses and flops down in another wooden chair in the corner of the barn. He shoves a frustrated hand through his thick hair.
“Why are you doing this?” I say in a broken whisper, staring at a powerless Hunter and Max.
“Grace if you must know. I love her more than my life.”
Oh.
My.
God.
Omar is insanely delusional like Smith was about my mother.
“Like I said, I do acknowledge the powerful influence love can have over someone. I did push your brother off the bridge. It was storming and I took the opportunity.” He scratches a thick brow and sags in his seat. “What can I say, I’m an opportunist.”
“Did you push me off the cliff too?”
He simply nods as he reaches back to massage the nape of his neck. “You are a warrior, Isabel. I’ll give you that. You don’t go down so easily.”
I stifle the burning vomit that threatens to spew at the back of my throat. “But why did you hide that tape that has Hunter on the bridge with my brother?”
“I wasn’t exactly concealing anything. Max was trying to be undetectable, snooping around my office and buildings, inquiring my employees about where all the security footage is stored. I knew precisely what he was looking for. So put in an obvious place he would surely check.” He inclines forward, rest his elbows on his knees, staring me in the eyes. “But the most tragic part is that you didn’t give your beloved Hunter the benefit of doubt. You truly thought that he was capable of killing your little brother. Though he is indeed dark, that boy does not have the strength to betray his Isabel—it’s simply is not in his nature. But you thought otherwise, didn’t you, Gamila? Perhaps, that’s the biggest treachery and most fatal flaw of all. ”
The rumble in my stomach grows. Vomit fights its way from my mouth. The vile ejects everywhere, searing my throat in the process. I close my eyes, focusing on breathing.
“When you saw the footage, did a minuscule thought of doubt ever enter your head? Did it ever occur to you that it was the same bridge but different night? Well, I did alter the tape so well that it appeared that Hunter tossed young Tyler off the ledge. Hunter did nothing of the sort. In fact, he was trying to persuade Tyler to leave Cherry Creek before it was too late. Your brother, he was immensely bright. Tyler figured out everything with the help of Taylor. But he refused to listen to Hunter, that’s when Hunter got a little rough with him. He only yanked on his coat, but quickly let go after that. They both went their separate ways. Tyler lived to breathe another night…until I came along. It was raining very hard that night—”
“Grace—she doesn’t love you,” I interrupt him. I can’t stand to hear the gruesome details of Tyler’s death.
He immediately straightens his spine, gaze growing darker. “She wouldn’t have had my child if she didn’t love me.”
“What?” I choke.
“Rex. The lighter hair. The blue eyes. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”
“Rex is-is Grace’s son?”
He gives his head slight nod.
Max makes a muffled sound. Both our eyes dart to him. His expression is alarmed.
How long has he been up?
“Welcome back son.” Omar stands and grabs a large plastic jug, popping the cap off. “Let the show begin.” He strolls over to me, dumping the clear contents over my head.
I’m drenched with gasoline.
The pungent odor is undeniable.
“Now you must make the hardest decision yet, Isabel.” He pulls a gun from the back of his pants and carelessly sways it between the two. “Which one dies first?” He shoves the muzzle of the pistol against Hunter’s head. “Will it be your longtime love, Hunter Knight? The one you loved before you were old enough to understand what it meant.” Hunter eyes are solely focused on me. His gaze never wavers. Then Omar shifts it to Max’s head without an ounce of remorse. Omar is definitely a PSYCHOPATH. “Or, will it be the man of your dreams. The one you saw yourself contentedly growing old with.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. The acerbic aroma of puke fills my nostrils. I think I’m going to pass out.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
“Choose, Isabel. If you don’t, I’ll kill you first. They will suffer more that way.”
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Keeping my eyes close, I reach out and grab the chilly steel bars with my hands. I can’t choose between them, especially which one gets murdered first. “Rot in hell, Omar.”
“Wrong choice.” There’s a sickening BOOM! A deafening ringing follows.
My eyes fly open. Rex stands inside the entrance of the shed door, eyes wide and petrified with a gun hanging limply in his hand.
Omar’s left leg is bleeding and has a gaping hole where his knee used to be. He’s crawling towards the gun that’s flung by me. With shaky hands, I reach between the spaces of the bars and yank it from the ground.
Taylor cuts Hunter and Max free.
Accepting defeat, Omar digs in his pockets and tosses a small metallic key at Taylor. It skids across the panels of the wooden floor, stopping at Hunter’s foot. He picks it up, unlocking the cage door.
The center of my universe shifts. I no longer see Hunter holding Max back, Rex’s tears streaming down his cheeks, or Taylor urging me on with her direct gaze.
They all fade away.
The only sound I hear is the steady rhythm of my heart that leads me to my ultimate destiny.
It’s just Omar and I in this moment. He smiles at me as I make my way to him, unafraid and…grateful. The gun is smooth metal in my hand, feels as light as feather in this moment.
Beautiful.
Squatting next to him, I desperately search his face for something.
There’s nothing.
Not even pain.
With every ounce of concentration, I peer into the depths of his eyes.
They mock me.
My index finger curls around the loop of the trigger as I press the muzzle of the gun to his chest, over his heart. I ease the trigger back, in no hurry. “Tyler, he never begged for his life. I never thought the Angel of Death would be as beautiful, Gamila.”
Keep both your eyes open, baby girl. My father said to me.
<
br /> You want to be able to see what you’re doing.
Unblinking, I push back the trigger.
I swear I can hear the bullet tear and rip its way through his heart.
I’m so sorry, Tyler.
You can rest now.
Swiftly standing, I empty the entire magazine until there are no more bullets left to shoot. Only then am I able to breathe.
The gun falls to the ground with a hollow thud.
Max and Hunter drags Omar’s lifeless corpse from the barn. Taylor wraps a supportive hand around my back, leading me out.
Hunter asks Rex something. Rex nods, swipes his nose with his hand and rummages in his tux jacket. He throws something that glints silver at Hunter. Hunter flicks it until a bright flame appears.
I watch my dragon set our enemies on fire.
Epilogue
New Year
“They are still out there,” Harmony says, peeking out the blinds of my house. “Don’t they have anything better to do?”
“Yeah, that’s a lot of press,” Falcon adds, looking out the window next her.
Our small southern town has made world news because of my “mercilessly tragic yet beautiful” story. After a thorough investigation, Omar’s death was ruled as self-defense.
There were no court dates.
No lawyers.
No judges…Just our statements of all the events that occurred.
Our statements didn’t exactly reveal the truth of what transpired that night.
In our version, Max bursts through the barn door and saves the day.
He kills his father for the woman he loves.
It was originally Hunter’s idea that Max should take the blame.
Hunter assured us it would “look better” that way.
What a hero.
“This is the part where you guys help me blow my candles out,” I say, staring down at the sparkling flames of my massive blue and yellow birthday cake that’s perfectly lit with twenty-one candles.
“I have a surprise call for you,” Taylor says, holding her cell out towards me. “Ya’ll are on speaker.”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Naya and Hero say simultaneously.
It’s all-too-soon when moisture hits my eyes. “Thank you.” Mr. Knight has them in an undisclosed location, keeping them far, far away from Grace. No one has seen her since our town’s “little secret” news broke and went international. Now Grace is world-famous for reason I’m sure she would rather not say. She didn’t have any involvement with Tyler’s murder or plotting our deaths. That’s what her well-paid lawyers said. I don’t know if she did or not.
Evil is evil.
A hand runs down the length of my hair, softy pressing into my back. I cock my head to see loving lavender gazing down at me. Max gives me a tender smile. “Make a wish, Pumpkin.” I glance around the table at all my friends’ joyous faces. I don’t know if it’s the soft flickering candlelight in my dim kitchen or the fact that it is New Years, but something about this moment seems magical and enchanted. An aching disappointment dampens my cheerful mood though.
One person would make me feel better.
Hunter.
If only he were here.
Smiling to the best of my ability, I close my eyes and lean forward. The heat from the flames is pleasant and warms my face.
I don’t wish for eternal happiness or anything silly like that; I wish for just enough, enough of love to get me through my darker days, enough of support to keep me balance when I feel uprooted and shaky, enough of patience and understanding when I feel vulnerable and lash out.
Just enough.
A quiet hush and a definite stillness falls over my small crowd like a thick shroud. Taking a deep inhale and expanding my lungs to the maximum limit, I blow out all my candles. Only when I breathe in the wisps of smoke, melted candle wax, and sweet buttercream frosting do I open my eyes. I love that smell. I want to experience more of that birthday aroma.
My brows furrow, everyone is staring in awe and amazement, and I’m not the center of their attention. My eyes follow the source of all the excitement. For a moment, I completely forget how to breathe. Max is on bended knee beside me. His face is the softest I’ve ever seen, and his eyes…they’re glistening with tears. My eyes slide to his outreached hand that holds a small red velvet box with the lid up. Tears make the sparkling octagon-shaped diamond blurry.
Max takes my hand in his free one, giving my fingers a tight squeeze. “Isabel Waters, what the hell can I say at this point?” He grins and everyone chuckles softly. “You lit a flame inside of me that changed my life forever. I want my forever with you. I promise to make sure you understand that you are loved and appreciated every day. I promise to make you feel secure and safe. I promise to make life worth living. I promise to be your foundation and the man that never lets you down. But before all that, I need you to make a promise of your own. Marry me, Pumpkin?”
I jump out my seat and slam myself into Max. He is not prepared for my reaction. The impact knocks us both to the floor. I land on top of him, laughing and frantically kissing all over his face.
“Is that a ‘yes’?” he laughs, gently stroking the line of my spine.
“Say yes, dummy!” That’s Harmony in the background.
“If you don’t, I will!” That’s Vic.
“Will you two show-stealing queens shut it already. Let Izzy have her moment.” That’s Falcon.
Staring into his shimmering eyes, a new discovery is found. I found what desire really is: Max Gabai. My Hero Husband. Everything I always wished for but never received. Here he is, living, breathing, and asking me to marry him.
How could a girl say no?
He wipes at me tears and I dab at his. “Yes, Max-pie. I’ll marry you.”
The room erupts into cheers and applauses as we seal it with a passionate kiss that makes my head heady. This will be a moment that I will hold onto and replay in my mind when misery wants to keep me in its grasp.
***
Two weeks later
I roll the platinum rings around inside my hand. I got them for Hunter. I haven’t seen him since the night of the fire. He never showed to tell me happy birthday or congratulations. I didn’t expect he would, but a large and hopeful part of me still had faith he would not miss something as important. Now I swing on my old tire swing under the shadowy canopy of the willow tree that brought so much bliss to me. The moon is bright and full tonight…
There’s that familiar tightening and burning of my muscles. Every part of me is hyperaware when he’s around. My feet drag in the dirt as the swing is pulled back from its swaying motion. “I thought you forgot about me,” I whisper to the moon.
“Never. How can I forget about you when I dream of you with my eyes wide open?”
I force myself swallow. “Hunter,” I breathe. “Where were you?”
“Busy. You’ve missed me.” Not a question, just an obvious statement.
“Still arrogant I see.”
“Still blinded I see.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I push my way out the loop to look at him. His absurd beauty is hidden well within the pale light of the moon, and he’s dressed in usual hoodie and jeans, hair untamed and everywhere.
His eyes are solely focused on my face. “Can we dance for a bit?”
My cheeks lift as I smile. “Dance?”
He shrugs. “It only seems right.”
Then he opens his arms. It’s like I have no choice in the matter when I snuggle into him, getting as close as I possibly can. I’m instantly stunned by the deluge of scorching hot memoires. I have missed this…missed him. We sway in a slow and steady tempo of his heartbeat. “Humor me with a short game, okay?”
Clutching the rings in my palm, I nod.
“What if I told you that your lips were made only to be kissed by me?”
My heart rate quickens. “Hunter, what kind of game is this?”
He gives me squeeze. “J
ust humor me, Isabel.”
“What if I told you that I’m happy now?”
“What if I told you that I’m too selfish to care?”
My breath catches in my throat. I can’t play this game anymore.
“What if I told you that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to have you to myself again?”
Leaning back, I tip my head up. “Even breaking my heart?”
He grins.
Smug brat!
“Even breaking your pretty little heart all over again.”
How can he actually say that with a straight face?
Are we still playing?
Hunter keeps it going. “What if I told you that you belong with me and I’m willing to sabotage your future with him just to have you in my bed at night?”
The blood drains my face. “Hunter, stop. I don’t want to play anymore.”
He studies me with solemn intensity that only Hunter Knight is capable of performing in such way I feel like my core is splitting and cracking under the pressure of his stare. He holds me at arm’s length, smirking conceitedly.
“I have a Christmas gift for you,” I whisper, looking down at my balled up fist.
He releases me. “Really? I feel bad. I didn’t get you anything.”
“Don’t worry about it. Here…,” I lift my trembling fingers and dump the thin bands of platinum in his hands.
“Rings?” He sounds confused.
I glance up at him and smile. “They’re for your thumb. Read them.”
His eyes squints at each elegant engrave in each ring as he places all three bands around his left thumb. “Three little angels.” Hunter’s expression is suddenly indecipherable. He takes a step back.
“For the babies,” I whisper, feeling unshed tears burn my eyes.
“Isabel,” Max calls. I look around Hunter and see Max’s silhouette leaning against the frame of the front doorway of my house with Birthday tucked in his arm. “Our dehydrated marshmallows are getting cold.”
Oh.
Right.
Lucky Charms and movies tonight.
Pure Illusion (Web Of Deception #1) Page 31
