Page 84 of Unleash You

“Anabelle.”

“I know.” She kept her gaze down for a beat and wiped her cheek. “Hurry. When he comes in, we can hit him over the head with the toilet cover. Then tie him up. Too bad you didn’t bring any of your tea,” she said to Rebecca.

“I think he’s built a tolerance for it. He wasn’t out for very long last time.” Rebecca turned to me. “We tried to drug him at Anabelle’s house. It worked until his lackey came after us. He tied us up and waited for Charlie to wake up.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” I’d failed her too many times. How was she not pissed at me? “I didn’t even realize his feelings for you were more of an obsession.”

“This isn’t your fault. And if we’re being honest, up until the day I came to ask for your help, all this wasn’t even your fight. You did what you could.” She offered a kind smile.

“He came here using the charter jet we flew to Maracaibo,” I said.

“I told Charlie where you were.” Anabelle pursed her lips, laying four pieces of pretty decent rope on the floor.

Anabelle rolled her eyes. “Don’t let him do that to you. He could’ve bought a plane at any point. He just wanted to make you feel guilty. If you want to blame it on someone, blame it on me. I introduced him to Smith. He got a taste of that kind of power because of me.”

“After tonight, he’ll be where he belongs.” Anabelle picked up her makeshift weapon and exhaled.

Two sets of footsteps stopped on the other side of the door. I held my breath as a key clicked into place inside the lock, and a string of curses echoed in the hallway.

“Let me talk to him.” I placed a hand on her shoulder, but she only gripped the cover tighter.

Charlie kicked in the door. Dressed in fatigues, he crowded the threshold. I wanted to rip that jacket off his back. He didn’t deserve to wear it. Marcel cowered behind him, his eyes opened wide when he saw me. That made more sense. Since I’d met him, he’d always been a follower. Which was why the math didn’t add up when I heard he’d taken over his dad’s cartel. Marcel was afraid of everything. Even now, the way his fingers clung to the door suggested he wanted to flee, but he was probably too afraid to leave Charlie hanging.

Charlie, on the other hand, was too sure of his hold on me, too sure I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. He had no way of knowing that just a few minutes ago, the only one who pleaded for his life was his sister. A smirk of annoyance pulled on his lips. I was the only one standing between him and what he wanted.

“Anabelle, stand behind me,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Wes.” She squeezed my bicep with urgency.

“Get back.” I shrugged my riffle off my shoulder and handed it to her while my free hand hovered over my gun.

She exhaled as she cocked the rifle and pointed it at her brother. “It’s over, Charlie. You’re going to turn yourself in.”

“Neither of you has the guts to shoot me. Get the fuck out of my way.” Charlie snapped his fingers. “Rebecca, let’s go. I’m all out of patience. I’m done asking.”

“No, she’s not going with you.” I stepped forward, keeping both Charlie and Marcel in front of me.

Charlie snorted a laugh and darted toward Rebecca, who held her stance behind Anabelle. When I had him within reach, I punched him square in the face. The impact knocked his head to his shoulder. He sucked in air. When he swung at me, I was ready to block him. We’d had the same training, had the same build and same strength. But for Charlie, this fight was only about him and what he thought this world owed him. To me, this was about way more. He’d destroyed so many lives in such a short period of time.

I shoved him against the lockers, and he winced in pain. In the next breath, he got a front kick in and sent me against the opposite end. Anabelle appeared in my peripheral vision. Her lips were moving, but I couldn’t make out the words. Who knew how long we kept at it—a kick, a hook, a cross…lather, rinse, repeat.

Marcel hovered by the door, mouth slightly open. The coward was waiting to see who would win. Or if I were being honest, he’d stayed because he thought Charlie would come out on top. He didn’t think I had it in me to stop Charlie. I swung back around, leapt in the air, and came down with a punch that knocked Charlie to the floor. His eyes fluttered close as he mumbled something.

I fisted the front of his shirt, pressing a knife to his throat. “It’s never too late to do the right thing. Call it all off and turn yourself in.”

“Fuck you. You know that’s not how it works. You didn’t pull out your gun when I came in because you know you don’t have the guts to do what you have to do. You never did. It’s why I had to carry you my entire life.” He spit out blood. “I’m tired of you playing the hero and always coming up short. Were you hoping she would kill me for you?”

I picked him up a few inches and slammed him against the floor. “No, I was hoping you’d do the right thing.”

Anabelle was right. Charlie wasn’t worth getting blood on my hands. At this point, I had no idea what he deserved. I turned around to face Marcel, but he was gone. No doubt he’d decided Charlie had no way out. My trembling fingers squeezed around the hilt of my blade, and tears blurred my vision. Luisa had said that when it came to Charlie, I’d always been blind and stupid. I’d seen enough today to last me a lifetime.

A stabbing pain on my right flank triggered the muscle memory in my arm. It catapulted to my left side, and it plunged the blade through Charlie’s throat. He fell to his knees with surprise in his eyes. I swayed for a few beats, mouth slacked as the whole scene in front of me fully registered.

I sat on my ankles and pulled him to me. “Why would you do this?” I asked him over and over as my mind spewed image after image of the day his parents moved next door to Gran’s house, the day I walked over with Mom to deliver the news that his parents had been in an accident, the day we left for college and then the marines. “It didn’t have to end like this, brother.”

He was never the same after his parents were gone. Somewhere along the way, I’d lost him to the side of him that simply couldn’t care, and I was too afraid to admit it. Senseless. Our time together now felt that way. As if none of it had been real.

“Wesley?” Anabelle’s voice sounded small and afraid.

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