Page 117 of Can You Take It?

“Too late,” I murmur, cutting him off.

His eyes flutter, struggling to stay open, but the sedative takes hold dragging him into unconsciousness. I watch him slump against the mattress.

I didn’t want to do it, but I had no choice. Richard’s too unpredictable.

I make my way down the stairs. This isn’t the life I chose, but it’s the one I’m stuck with. Richard’s too stubborn to see the bigger picture. Everything for him is black and white, right and wrong. But in my world, it’s all just varying shades of gray.

I walk to my car, the familiar scent of tobacco swirling around me, grounding me. But as I get closer, all the hurt I’ve been running from comes crashing down. Being near Richard made me forget, for just a moment, all the shit he said and did to me. But now, it’s catching up to me. I wipe a stray tear from my eye, cursing myself for even letting it fall.

Driving never felt this fucking endless. Each mile marker seems to mock me, reminding me how far I’m falling, how deepI’ve dug myself into this hole. Hollowbrook seems a world away, but every inch closer feels like a step toward my own execution.

Who knew falling in love could be this devastating? That it could tear open your chest and leave you so raw, so exposed?

Why does love feel like the hardest con to pull off? Every sweet moment between us now tastes bitter, tainted by the secrets I kept tucked away, thinking I could maybe have it both ways. But you can’t, can you? You try to steal a bit of happiness, and life comes at you with a vengeance, ready to collect its due.

“Maybe I should just turn myself in,” I mutter, entertaining the thought for a half-hearted second. But who am I kidding? I’m no martyr, and this isn’t some tragic love story where the heroine sacrifices everything for redemption. This is real life, and in real life, people like me don’t get happy endings. We get a cell and a shitload of time to think about where it all went wrong.

I pull up to the Montclair manor. With a deep breath, I step out of the car and make my way inside. The familiar scent of the mansion hits me, mingling with memories of a childhood long gone.

“Isla,” my grandmother’s voice calls out.

I force a smile as I greet her. Isla—she was the girl who should have had everything. The perfect family, the lavish lifestyle. But I ruined it all for her.

For the world, I may have been Izel, but for her, I’ll always be Isla. It’s strange how easy it is to change digital records these days. Martin helped me with that, of course. There was no way I was going to live under Isla’s identity any longer than I had to. It was suffocating, like wearing a mask that never quite fit right.

I push open the door to the backyard, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stuffiness of the mansion. And there he is—Victor, playing fucking golf like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

I stride over to him, and I hate that my boots are sinking into the plush grass with each step. He looks up, barely sparing me a glance before swinging his club. The ball flies off into the distance, disappearing into the horizon.

“What do you want?” he grunts, not bothering to look at me.

“Why is the FBI chasing after me?”

He finally turns to face me, a smug smile playing on his lips. “I may have pointed the FBI in your direction.”

“Why?” I snap, stepping closer. “I did everything you asked—every goddamn thing.”

He walks past me, casually lining up another shot. He sinks the ball into the hole like it’s nothing, barely giving me a glance as he straightens up, dusting his hands off. “Let’s just say... I got bored.” His eyes flash with cruel amusement as he turns toward me, rolling his shoulders back like he’s been carrying the weight of the world. “Besides, the chase for the Ghostface Striker is picking up steam. It's only a matter of time before they take you down. Thought I’d save your FBI boyfriend the trouble.”

“You’re trying to make him hate me. You want him to be the one who takes me down.”

His grin widens, and he drops the club onto the grass, stepping closer. “You’re smarter than you look.”

By putting the FBI on my trail and trying to turn Richard against me, Victor thinks he’s making me miserable. He believes he’s in control, just like he always has been. He knows how much Richard means to me, and he’s using that against me, trying to break me.

But what Victor doesn’t realize is that I was one step ahead of him all along. When I walked out of witness protection, it wasn’t just to protect Richard—it was to lead Victor right where I wanted him. For years, he’s kept me away from the one place that holds all the answers, feeding me lies, giving me false leads. But I’ve always wanted to go back there, to settle the unfinishedbusiness that’s haunted me for so long. Victor would never willingly lead me there, but now, in his attempt to crush me, he’s done exactly that.

When I threatened Victor after he threatened Richard, I knew it would be the final straw. That was the moment he realized just how deep my feelings for Richard ran, and in his arrogance, he thought he could use that to destroy me. But instead, he’s played right into my hands. He’s brought me closer to the truth than ever before, and now, I’m on the brink of finding what I’ve been searching for a decade.

Victor thinks he’s won, but he has no idea that by pushing me, he’s only made me stronger. He’s about to learn that the place he’s been keeping me from isn’t just a trap for me—it’s a trap for him too. And this time, I’m the one holding the key.

“So, what’s your plan now, Izel? On the run? Wouldn't you want to do just that, considering the FBI is tailing you?”

I take a deep breath. For the first time, I have an edge over him. “I will. But not before I put away all your minions who are hell-bent on trying to kill Richard. Including you.”

Victor’s laughter echoes through the yard, patronizing and dismissive. “You? Kill me? Don’t make me laugh. You don’t have it in you.”

I meet his gaze, unflinching. “Don’t I?”

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