The Colt & The Cobra - THE SPECTER SERIES [book six]

Chapter TWENTY TWO

You never want to go back to your old life.. You can't return to your father's estate..
You cannot live as Mikkalia De'lucca anymore..
The nightmare has to end.. One way or another..
You'd rather go to prison for whatever it is you have done than go home..

Actually.. You'd rather die..

The liquid courage you had consumed with Juliette is wearing off fast, and you refuse to chicken out now..

It's time to face the music..

When you reach the sightly ajar bedroom door you knock quietly before you push it open, calling out to the Cowboy.. "Colt?"

But the only reply is the sound of running water coming from behind the adjacent closed bathroom door..

Looking around you take in his neatly decorated room, the large four-poster bed draped in plush furs and sheepskin and beside it are several stacks of mechanical magazines on the floor.. A rich ochre leather sofa and small glass coffee table are set by the window, over the back of which lay Colt's dusty jeans, sparking you to think of him without his pants ..

You try your best not to picture him showering.. You try.. And you fail..

The thought of his powerful naked form, sculpted muscles, soapy and soaking wet sun-kissed skin, rigid masculinity and raw power, it enough to send your tummy tumbling and your pulse thudding between your thighs..

Get it together girl!
You scold yourself, repeating the affirmations that had brought you to his bedroom..
You came here for a reason, Mikki.. Don't do this.. Don't change your mind now.. Don't fuck this up too!

You wander over to the bedside with the intention to sit and wait before seeing the two small pill bottles with the Belladonna position and it's antidote placed there on the sidetable beside Colt's phone and a folded up tanto knife that you recognise immediately..

It's Charlie's tactical knife.. Unmistakably, it has his initials stamped into the hilt..

It's the very same one he used to carry with him everywhere.. The one you would carry with you everyday since his death.. "What the ff--"

Why does Colt have it?!
Oh god.. He must have taken it from your bedroom..
Why would he do that?!

You're not entirely sure why, but something inside you tugs impulsively..
Fear.. Doubt.. Distrust..
A cocktail of caution mixing deep in your already unsettled subconscious..

Suspicion and instinct drive you and before you can't think about it you find yourself tucking the bottle of Belladonna pills into your pocket along with the knife..

You then take Colt's shiny black cellphone with a sense of obligation looming, padding over to the window until the network shows enough bars to make a call out and you dial the only number you know by heart..

Your cousin answers after letting it ring for an absurd amount of time.. "Uhh.. Ey-yo who dis?" Rocco's hazy-high voice grumbles groggily..

"Rocky, it's me--"

Immediate alert panic spikes his tone.. "Mick?!.. Where the fuck have you been?! Everyone is going fucking pazzo, Bella!! They've been saying that new bodyguard slit Ranger's throat and fucking kidnapped you?! Are you hurt?! Did that son'of'a'bitch hurt you?!"

You can barely process his words; they are so misaligned with reality.. You know quite certainly that Colt is completely innocent in Dax's demise.. "What?!.. No he didn't!.. Rocco.. Listen I need you to do something for me.."

"Mikki, where are you?! Tell me where you are Bella?!" Rocco repeats with pressing urgency..

"I can't tell you, Rocky, I don't even know.. Just shut up and listen, I need you to hear me.. You're not safe there, somebody tried to poison me, you need to leave.. Please cugino, you gotta get out of there--" Rocco deserves to be warned, and you are the only person who will.. If you can convince him to get out, maybe you can prevent at least one more senseless tragedy..