Page 19 of Deadly Wrath

I slide the phone back into my pocket just as the front door flies open, slamming into the wall hard enough to rattle the frame.

She’s here. Olivia’s footsteps stomp through the small space before another door slams shut, followed by the rush of running water. I sit up, my smirk fading.

It can’t be a coincidence that Antonio’s employee gets sick just as Olivia swoops in.

I fucking hate being left guessing. Especially by the one who’s been watching me. I yank my phone back out.

Me:Check on the old woman.

A reply comes almost immediately.

Alonzo:On it, Boss!

I shove the phone away again, my jaw feels tight, and the unease is starting to gnaw at me. Something’s not right, and I’m about to find out exactly what.

9

Liv

I swing my legs over the windowsill, slipping into Cindy’s place like I’ve done a hundred times before. My feet hit the floor without a sound, but my heart is a different story, hammering in my chest.

This is the last time. I shouldn’t even be here anymore. Alessio knows, and now that he knows, I’m screwed.

I glance around the small kitchen, my eyes landing on the kettle on the counter. The one I’ve been poisoning for weeks. I swallow hard, guilt twisting my stomach into knots. Cindy deserves better than this. Better than me.

I quickly grab the kettle with my trembling hands and tip it over the sink. The tea swirls down the drain, disappearing as easily as the lies I’ve been telling myself.

The water rushes from the faucet, and I rinse out the pot, scrubbing away the evidence of the sulfate.

I’m done. No more poisoning Cindy, no more watching her waste away.

Just as I place the clean kettle back on the stove, a faint shuffling sound catches my attention.

I freeze.

My heart feels like it jumped in my throat, and I whip around. Cindy’s standing in the doorway, or at least what’s left of her. Her skin is ghostly pale, her eyes sunken, and she looks more like a walking corpse than the woman I first saw weeks ago when I got to Chicago.

For a second, I’m too stunned to move.

“Cindy?” I whisper, taking a cautious step toward her. She sways and her knees start to buckle, and before I can react, she’s falling.

“Shit!” I barely manage to catch her before she hits the floor, my arms wrapping around her just before her head hits the floor. I pull her up, almost in a hugging position, to lift her back up.

And just when I think it can’t get any worse—oh God, it does get a lot worse. Cindy throws up all down my back and ponytail. I gag instantly, the sour stench hits my nostrils, and makes me want to throw up alongside her.

“Oh my god. Gross!” I groan, my nose wrinkling at the stench. I can feel the warm vomit soaking through theback of my shirt, clinging to my skin. If there’s a hell, I’m definitely in it right now.

“Seriously?” I mutter. I really must have pissed someone off in another life to deserve this.

Cindy mumbles something that sounds like an apology, but she isn’t speaking very clearly, and this really isn’t her fault.

“Okay, okay,” I breathe, trying to keep calm as I help Cindy to the couch, also making sure she doesn’t touch my back or get vomit on herself.

She slumps down into the worn cushion, and her head rolls to the side. I bend down and lift her legs up so she can lie down comfortably. When I bend, her warm vomit seeps down to my pants, around my waistline.

Her eyes flutter half-closed like she senses my disgust. I grab a towel and lean in, gently cleaning her face. My nose wrinkles with every wipe, the sour smell overpowering my senses, turning my stomach.

After getting Cindy settled with a glass of water, I bolt out of her apartment door, screw the fire escape. I need to get back to my place now. I sprint down the hall, finally reaching my door. I fumble with my stupid keys before I finally shove the door open. I slam the door shut behind me so hard I’m pretty sure my downstairs neighbors heard me come home.

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