Page 39 of Unlawful Lies

Before they have a chance to find me, I bolt, keeping low as I wind my way through the familiar garden paths. My tendons clack from being frozen for too long.

Voices lifted in shouts are a flag trailing me. Gravel crunches underfoot. Louisa might not be able to move, but her friend with the hat definitely can.

“Nicola, sweet pea, there is nowhere to run. We know you are there.”

She knows the gardens as well as I do, too.

Louisa is in on the whole thing. The blackmail, the cops, the murder. She knew from the start, and she tried to get me off the right path by casting the blame somewhere else. My chest constricts, and my breath races out of me like it can’t stand another moment in my tightened lungs.

What the hell am I going to do?

The killer is here, and he’s in the prime position to take me down. I have to get in the house somehow and call Edward. Call someone. Find the guards and make a run for it before they find me. If I don't hurry, then everything is done.

Is my brother even still alive?

The shock of the thought has me stumbling over my own feet, and I reach out to catch myself, snagging my fingers against the rosebush. Thorns pierce through my skin. Hissing, I slap my opposite palm to my mouth to keep from saying a peep.

Pain splits my skull, and the scream erupts anyway.

The hand in my hair yanks me backward with such force I slam onto my spine and hit my tailbone hard against the ground. In the next beat, the tip of a blade presses to my throat and digs in deep, drawing blood.

“A child, yes,” the stranger murmurs. “Nosy and incorrigible.”The blade angle changes, the knife against my throat.

“You make enough noise to wake the dead. Did you know that? You are nowhere near as bumbling as your old man, however, drunk and always putting his nose where he doesn’t belong.

The tall man drags me back, but the scream is dead. My focus narrows on the blade, and I jump, my body reacting, the knife close enough to shave off layers of skin.

“This is the same knife that gutted your dear old dad,” the man continues. “It’s a fitting irony, of course. You were next on my list no matter what your dear old nanny says.”

Gravel and sharp pieces of rock dig into my legs and hips as I kick out, but there’s no freeing myself. Not with the blade there, not with his fingers frozen in my hair, prying hard enough to rip each individual strand from my scalp.

“And now, the legacy will end here.”

Edward

“Your threats won’t work on us, Mr. Balestra,” the nearest guard says with a sneer. “We’ve heard better.”

He’s enjoying this, the rat bastard. Taking the opportunity to mock me when he thinks he’s safe behind his intercom.

It would be too easy to fire out a shot and watch his head explode and waste them all to get what I want. Frustration turns to acid in my gut. I’ve been too fucking busy cleaning up the trail of dead ends to actually stop by the house until now, but something kicks me in the ass to do it tonight.

To get here, to see Nicola, to assure myself she’s fine.

She’s hanging in there, stronger than anyone should have to be in her situation.

The woman spits fire. That’s for sure.

Desperation combines with a burning need to have her in my arms again. Not solely a stolen moment like the one on the couch but a long and drawn-out affair, to show her with my body how much she means to me. If she’ll give me the opportunity.

I’m shit with words when it comes to feelings.

Words are meaningless, easily given, and easier to fracture. Words are important for negotiations and contracts, but when it comes to interactions between people? Those aren’t my skills.

I told her we’d work together but my way, and so far, I’ve done everything myself. Everything I can, but the walls in my way are too tough to crack with my fucking skull.

We make a good team, so it’s time to bring her in as a partner.

I’ve got to stop being so fucking stubborn, as my father always says. And start depending on someone else. Someone who is the better piece of me. Who brings out the best in me and whatever I have to offer.

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