Paradise Falling (Will be unpublished Sept 28, so read while you can!)

27 -- High Stakes

He chews his lip; one of the few telltale signs that he is nervous. "How did you find me?"

I smirk. Not gonna make it that easy for him. "What do you think?"

"Do the Disciples know where I am?"

"Probably."

I shoot him a sideways glance. His jaw is clenched; he's starting to panic.

"What are you gonna do, Marcel? Go on the run again? Sacrifice another family?"

"Shut up and turn left at the light. Then immediately right." He licks blood off his lip; he has chewed it raw.

Oh, I hit a nerve.

We pass a row of parking garages and signs with Passenger Drop Off Only. A little further up is another sign announcing that this is Alewife Station. About to turn when the road curves, he jabs the barrel of the gun into my ribs.

"Keep going straight."

It's the end of a one-way. "It says no entry."

"The park closes at sunset. We won't encounter traffic."

The street narrows; trees, bushes, and two jogging paths mark the curb on either side. It appears to be some sort of access road. "What is this place?"

"A wildlife reserve."

Deserted at this time of night. The perfect place to shoot someone without a witness and dispose of their body. My mouth dries up. I'm running out of time.

"Why did you do it, Marcel? Why did you fucking leave us in Hong Kong to die?"

"I didn't think they'd go so far and kill Sean."

"They held a gun to his head right in front of me. Do you have any idea what that did to me?" My voice shakes hard enough for some of the words to slur together.

Don't fucking lose it.

He can't see me cry.

Marcel clears his throat. "I'm sorry, if that helps."

His apology couldn't be any less sincere if he tried.

"Nothing you say will ever make this okay." I hate the tears burning in my eyes. "Why didn't you at least try to warn us?"

"I couldn't risk it. You saw yourself, a wife and a child are replaceable. My life isn't."

What the actual fuck!

A surge of rage forces my foot down on the gas pedal.

I'm blinded by all the hurt, the despair, the guilt of the last six years.

If I have to die, it will be on my terms.

Pulling the steering wheel to the right, I head straight for the fence dividing the road from the jogging path. The screech of metal on metal hurts my ears. The Toyota comes to a sudden halt; the airbags blow. Pain shoots through my body as the seatbelt locks. My face slams into the airbag.

Oof.

I blink away the black spots obscuring my vision and take a careful breath. The sides of my body scream with agony; I likely cracked a couple of ribs. Opening and closing my hands still works and I can wiggle my toes in my sandals. A slight ache buzzes in my head. So far, I can't detect any major damage.

With a groan, I unbuckle the seatbelt and push the door of the Toyota open. Getting out is painful; every inch of my body is sore, but I manage to stay upright. I look back at the passenger seat. It's empty. Marcel's body lies motionless in the grass a few feet away. Thanks to his refusal to wear a seatbelt, he went straight through the windshield. I lean back into the car to grab my purse with my own gun. When it comes to his skills, I can't be too careful. For all I know, he's simply pretending to be hurt to get the upper hand.

Walking over to him, I prod him with my foot. The accident fucked him up. Several deep cuts mar his face almost beyond recognition and a bone sticks out of his twisted leg. His breath is shallow; it's a miracle he's still alive.

Though not for long.

I pull the gun from my purse and slide a bullet into the chamber. He gazes up at me without a sound. Fucking jerk knows that pleading with me to spare his pathetic life is futile.

I point the barrel of the gun straight at his head. "This is for Sean."

He blinks at me unfocused, his pupils dilated with pain. "I'm sorry, Chelsea." The words are barely audible over his raspy breath. "I really am."

I close my eyes to stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks.

This is not supposed to happen.

I'm not meant to feel sorry for him.

My hand shakes so hard that I almost drop the gun.

Pull the fucking trigger.

But I can't.

I fucking can't.

WP total word count: 30,105

Okay, this chapter went very differently than originally planned, thanks to a comment by one of my readers, Nacht_Owl . Her comment got me thinking (and she made total sense), so here we are, and I have to admit that I love this new direction a hundred times better than my original idea. Chelsea might not have gotten a full scoop of justice, but I think that anything else would have damaged her character. I hope you do agree, so please share your thoughts in the comments. A vote would also be very much appreciated and thanks for reading this chapter of Paradise Falling.