Page 74 of Forbidden Hearts

“I can’t tell you,” I say. Why can’t you just let it go?

His eyes darken. “Fine. Don’t tell me. But you’re not setting foot at that club again.”

“That’s not up to you.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow night. If I see you dancing on that fucking stage, I swear to God I’m going to pull you off it and carry you out of the goddamn club.”

I wish you would.

But that’s unrealistic. Jacob and his men would never allow him to do that. He’s only one man, and Jacob has dozens under his command.

I wish I had been honest with Alonzo from the very beginning, but I couldn’t have known I would grow to care about him like this.

“Anything else?” I ask. A knot twists in my throat, and it’s getting harder to breathe. Soon, tears will erupt, and I want to be out of here before that happens. “It’s late, and I need to get home. I have school tomorrow.”

“I’m not fucking around, Alex. Iwillbe there tomorrow night, and you better not be up on that fucking stage,” he says before stepping away from my car.

My car shakes as I drive off the road around his, leaving plums of dust behind me. I look in the rearview mirror. When the dust settles, I see his car still parked in the middle of the road. His headlights eventually disappear into the night, and I know it’s safe to release the pressure that has built up under my eyes.

???

It’s Monday morning.

I slept in as much as I could because I don’t want to go to school and face the real world. And now my stomach is growling, so I guess it’s time to get out of bed.

I get up and prepare a bowl of cereal. It’s noon by the time I sit down to eat at the kitchen table.

I put my laptop on the table next to my bowl and scroll Craigslist between scoops of cereal. Even though San Marquez is smacked right between San Antonio and Austin, it’s surrounded by many small rural towns. My gut tells me I can probably find someone nearby willing to sell me a cheap used gun.

Last night, I checked the websites for local gun shops, but the guns were outside what I can afford right now. I think I can get one cheaper if I buy it used.

There is only one way this nightmare with Jacob will end, and it’s with a bullet in his head. I know it’s a crazy idea, but I have to do something. I can’t let him hurt my mom. I brought him into our lives, and now I have to pry him out.

A few scrolls later, I find a seller just outside Lockhart, a small town thirty minutes away. The listing is for a Glock 19 and a few small boxes of ammunition for $700. A Google search tells me that a Glock 19 is a beginner-friendly gun. It’s exactly what I need.

I type the seller’s number into my phone, then pause for a split second.

Am I really gonna do this?

I have never shot a gun before, so I don’t even know how to aim one. But I guess that won’t matter if I’m close enough to Jacob. I can’t miss if I’m standing right in front of him.

It’s risky going after Jacob, but if I kill him, he can’t order the reapers to kill my mom.

As far as I know, Ben is unaware that Jacob and the other reapers are threatening my mom. Ben mainly focuses on the money side of The Den, which he treats like a proper business. If he knew Jacob had basically kidnapped my mom, he would putan end to it. But that wouldn’t solve things. Jacob would still find a way to get back at me without Ben finding out.

Once Jacob is out of the picture, Ben will do the right thing and tell the reapers at my mom’s house to let her go. At least that’s what I hope will happen. It’s a gamble I’ll have to take.

With shaky fingers, I dial the number in the listing and wait for a response. After three rings, a man picks up. It’s a brief exchange, but we agree to meet at his place this afternoon.

???

“You weren’t in class this morning. Is everything okay?” Isabella’s text pops up over the navigation app. There is no way I can tell her what’s going on or what I’m doing. With a sigh, I swipe the text notification away and continue down the road.

The seller’s house isn’t in Lockhart but ten minutes east of town. His house is at the end of a dirt road, canopied by large trees above us.

As I park in the driveway, a man with gray hair and a beautiful golden retriever greet me. They escort me to the back of a pickup truck, where a large wooden box sits on the bed.

“I hope you didn’t have a hard time finding my house,” he says.

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