Page 17 of The Perfect Snipe

Abuela huffs dramatically, throwing her hands up in the air. “When did you stop being fun?”

I place both hands on my hips. “I’m tons of fun. A ball of fucking laughs.”

A lie.

Because the fun side of me evaporated the moment the doctor gave me a full explanation of my grandmother’s current health status.

Even so, I manage to force a smile as I go to the woman who I may lose, not in body, but in mind much sooner than I ever fathomed possible.

Chapter 7

Leo

I walk through the front door, Mykyta trailing behind me. The house is eerily quiet, and dark. I flick on a light in the hallway as I make my way toward the living room where Cat, Stella, and Rosa are huddled on the couch together in the dark, each clutching a pint of ice cream like it’s their lifeline. The three are leaning forward, totally focused on the TV.

My gaze flicks to the screen, and my stomach drops.

What. The. Fuck.

“Cat—”

“Shhh.” Rosa doesn’t even turn to look at me as she shushes me.

I cross my arms against my chest, a muscle near my eye twitching as I press my lips together, exhaling sharply through my nose. “Catharina.”

“Dad, be quiet. They’re about to tell us how the murderer messed up.”

I glare at my daughter, my molars grinding. “Why are you watching a true crime murder documentary? This is highly—”

Cat finally turns her head toward me. “You don’t watch true crime documentaries. You study them.”

Mykyta chuckles and claps a hand on my shoulder. “Jesus, fuck. Cap, you better be sleeping with one eye open.”

I shrug off his hand, my eyes narrowing to mere slits. “Don’t you think this is a little inappropriate for my daughter to be watching?”

My daughter throws her arms up, melted ice cream dripping from the spoon and onto the couch, and she lets out an exasperated groan. “Come on, Dad. Don’t you want me to know how to protect myself?”

“Stella, protecting yourself,” I say, my arm swinging out straight, all fingers pointing at the screen, “and this are two totally different things.”

“Well, we learned about trafficking today. This isn’t as scary.” Her tone is casual, as if discussing the weather.

But my body tenses at her words, heart rate picking up speed by the second. Trafficking? As in human trafficking? My gaze jerks back to Cat.

Her features soften. God only knows what I must look like right now. Probably like I’m about to have a heart attack. Fuck, am I sweating?

“The information is adjusted based on grade level, but all the kids are being taught what to look out for.” Her voice is soft and reassuring, but it does little to calm my nerves.

Fire drills, I get. Lessons on recreational drugs too. But then there was bullying and cyberbullying. Only to be followed up by lockdown drills because school buildings weren’t even safe anymore.

And now human trafficking? It’s like every year the world is becoming more and more dangerous.

My hands clench and unclench at my sides and I pin my gaze on my daughter. “Keep watching.”

Stella smirks, something akin to the Cheshire Cat, and I groan. Part of me wonders if when she was conceived somehow an Alonso ancestor’s soul was given to my daughter because, while genetically she might not be Cat’s, Stella’s attitude is so much like hers and Rosa’s.

My daughter looks over my shoulder and waves, her smirk widening. “Hey, Mosquito. Want to watch with us?”

“No.” Mykyta’s voice is soft and a bit strangled, as if it got stuck in his throat.

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