Page 57 of Once Upon A Sale

Ophelia doesn’t move, and I won’t make her.

“This isn’t the time nor the place for showing off those kinds of skills. She’s doing exactly as she should be doing in this situation. Obeyingme,as she should.” And she is, no matter how difficult it is for my sassy-mouthed woman to stay quiet.

“Well, I want more. Perform, bitch, or I’ll have Antonio shoot your fucking brains out, just like you did with Roland Gonzales.”

Ophelia tenses.

Then I feel the presence of someone behind us, and it isn’t the fake waiter.

Ophelia jumps up from her chair when a collar is clipped around her neck, and she reaches for something in her jacket pocket.

Red mist blurs my vision and I stand, twisting my body and knocking the fucker out. He goes down, letting go of the rope attached to the collar around Ophelia’s neck.

“Sit down, Jarrett. This isn’t your fight.” Dad’s voice is loud, but Ophelia’s scream is louder when one of the other securityguards tugs hard on the rope, causing her to crumple to the floor.

Everything seems to happen at once. My fist crunches the first guy’s nose, then I have time to slide my fingers into my spiked knuckle duster right before connecting with someone else’s throat, puncturing four small holes through his skin.

The next guy comes at me, the bullet from his gun flying past my ear, and he gets four holes in his cheek, and several other places across his body, as we twist, dodge, and punch. A guy points a gun toward Ophelia as she’s fighting off someone else, so I run, squeezing his neck in the crook of my elbow, punching his ribs and back until he falls in a heap.

The slow clap of a palm against wood forces me to turn back toward the table, and I realize all the men from before are now dead or dying. She got six, I only got five. She’s gonna gloat about this later…when I’ve got her free from my dad’s clutches, because he’s slapping his hand on the table, one foot on the rope attached to her leash, and a gun pointed at her chest.

“Dad, put the gun down. What the fuck is this?”

“She’s a murderer. She was always going to die. To be honest, I’m surprised you even showed up with her. Dumb fucking move, boy.” He laughs, and for the first time in my life, I want to kill him. Dead.

He’s right, I’ve been fucking stupid about this whole thing. How could I have ever thought that he’d forgive and forget? Yeah, naïvety. I suppose, deep down, I knew it. That’s why we were both prepared for this.

I just wish the fucker hadn’t proved us right.

Bending down, Dad picks up the rope, tugging on it sharply to make Ophelia stand. She’s covered in blood splatters, and if it weren’t for the fact we’re fighting for our lives, I’d fuck her right where she stands. Unfortunately, I need to stay focused on my father.

My face is contorted in a snarl, my lip curled, my eyes narrow, and I’m watching, waiting for the perfect moment because I’m hesitant to jump on him while he has a gun pointed at her.

“Let her go.”

“No. I’m going to kill her, then you’re going to be a good son and clean this shit up before going back to work. Terrence told me you rejected the last delivery again.”

“Get the fuck off me.” Ophelia struggles, clutching onto the leash around her neck to stop from choking as Dad continues tugging on it.

He laughs again, and the cry of pain from my woman is the last straw.

“On your knees, Kitten.”

She drops, hard, making the rope slip from Dad’s fist before she leans forward and kicks out behind her, the heel from her shoe stabbing into his thigh. Then I grab the nearest gun and shoot him through the shoulder, making him drop his own weapon and yell out in pain.

I move over to them, holding out a hand to help Ophelia up, ready to leave Dad lying there to find his own way to a hospital. But Dad has other ideas. He shifts, reaching for a fallen steak knife and aiming for her stomach.

I can’t…

She screams when he grabs the rope again and begins tugging her toward him.

I have to.

Moving quickly, I tackle him for the knife, making him lose his grip on her again, and I shove it first into his throat, then his ear, where I twist before removing it again.

I hate that this is the way tonight has gone, but I’m not upset like I thought I would be.

I’m just kinda numb.

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