Page 96 of Don't Let Go

I nodded, hoping my smile was convincing enough as I woke up my phone and checked to see if the invite was still on the screen before handing the device over.

The tall guy nodded at the man by my window, I guessed that meant my car passed whatever test he and the dog were doing.

“You’re good,” the man said, putting his gun back into its holster and handing me my phone back.

The guy with the dog pulled out a small remote and hit a button to open the gate.

Nodding my thanks, I rolled up my window and cruised inside. My eyes blinked rapidly to keep from watering, and my heart thudded faster than a roaring forest fire. A panic attack bit atmy nerves, but I forced it down. Needed to not feel, be dead inside. When I learned Paolo was the bastard who took Lizzy’s life, I wanted to find where he was and kill him where he stood. Without a doubt, he’d be here tonight because he was always at Nate’s parties. It didn’t hurt that I peeked at his social media and saw him confirm he’d show up. The tricky thing was committing his murder in a place with a lot of witnesses and high security.

Oddly enough, I wasn’t worried about what came after killing that scum. If someone shot me in retaliation or I somehow was ratted out to the police, I would take my sentence in stride. What stressed me out was someone preventing me from killing Paolo. He didn’t deserve to see the setting sun, to get a bump of coke, screw another girl, or to breathe another breath. No, Paolo deserved to be six feet under, and I had to see to it that he was.

A shaky breath escaped my lips as I backed my Charger into the closest spot available. I needed a quick getaway if I managed to make it out of the house alive.

After a few deep breaths, I found my composure and reached across the passenger’s seat, opening my glovebox. After digging under a ton of napkins, I found my gun. It was sleek and small but it would get the job done, especially because I special ordered three dumdum bullets under Franco’s name. These bullets were said to expand on impact and leave a large nasty wound no one could survive.

I popped my neck and hiked up my dress to slide the gun into my thigh holster. It will be a pain to get it out, but I couldn’t afford to have the piece seen before I was ready.

My plan was basic. I’d locate Paolo and try to get him when he’s alone or with only a couple of people. I’d slip into the bathroom to get my gun and hold it behind my back, hoping with my long hair loose and my calm demeanor, no one would spot the gun. I’d then isolate Paolo and shove the gun into his crotch. I would look deep into his beady black soulless eyes and see aspark of fear. I’d make him say Lizzy’s name, and then I’d shoot him in the heart. Then run like hell.

I got out of my car and ran my hands over my dress to banish any wrinkles before walking up the steps to the wrap-around porch. The wood underneath my feet vibrated, and the windows rattled from the pulsing music. I turned the doorknob and walked into the house. The scent of sex, pot, and sweat tinged my nose. The back wall of the house was nothing but glass; it was like an ever-changing painting of the beautiful desert landscape below us. The dying sun gave the interior of the house a pink hue.

Luckily, all the people around me were strangers. Where was Paolo? Was he here yet? Asking around would have been helpful, but I could tip someone off, or worse, Paolo would know I was looking for him, and I didn’t want him to see me coming.

Girls wearing golden bikinis with matching stilettos walked around with silver trays offering guests flutes of sparkling champagne. I took one but didn’t take a sip. It was more of a prop to help me blend in as I looked for Paolo, his cousins, or any of his friends.

After a while, I went into the kitchen to take a break from being shoved around by people. I leaned against the island and saw the wannabe bar a few yards away. If Paolo was around, he’d be hitting that again and again.

“Hey, sugar. You’re new,” a guy said, slipping his hand around my waist. I bristled at his touch.

I stared him dead in the eye. “I’m positive.”

He gave me a puzzled look. “What?”

“Positive. HIV,” I said with a sharp edge.

His face wrinkled in disgust and his hand brushed his pants as if he could wipe away my germs.

“I… I gotta go,” he muttered.

That lie always worked on drunks looking to get into a girl’s panties.

I looked at my phone to check the time. It was a little past ten o’clock. There were a few unread messages from Tyler and Chloe.

I hit the power button, putting the phone to sleep, and sliding it back into my bra. If I read their texts, they might make me lose my nerve. I needed to stay strong. My anger fed my courage, turning my broken heart ice cold.

Another hour passed by, and still no sign of Paolo. A little voice in my head wondered if Tyler or Chloe tipped him off to prevent my plan.

There was a scratch in my throat. With my champagne glass gone, I could use a drink and some liquid courage to search through this mess of a house again.

As I hopped down from the kitchen counter, I heard a familiar laugh booming from the other room. I peeked around the corner, and there he was, the devil himself laughing, holding a beer in one hand as his other arm snaked across the shoulders of a blonde girl and his hand rested on her large breast. He squeezed her, and she giggled in glee, kissing his neck. I fought the urge to puke. When Paolo did that to me, I usually elbowed him in the ribs and acted like it was an accident.

The metal burned my thigh. I wanted to whip out my pistol and unload the clip into his chest. After witnessing the bits of his heart explode through the other side of his body, I’d believe the bastard had a heart, but only then.

Paolo was in the center of the room with at least one hundred people scattered around. There was no way I could reach him without someone seeing a red flag.

With one glance in the direction of the bathroom, I saw the line and knew I couldn’t disappear to grab my gun and hold Paolo accountable as I had planned.

Maybe I could pull my gun out in the kitchen. No one wandered in here too much since all the alcohol was in the dining room. I could shoot a warning shot and then kill Paolo. Though he would probably use that big boobed bimbo as a shield, and I didn’t want someone else to pay for my revenge.

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