Page 34 of Wine & Whiskey: Everything for You
Not for vengeance. For her. He sacrifices his own life to keep her safe.
She flies out of his office and into the kitchen, grabbing the spare set of keys to her new SUV still lying on the counter. At the gate, the guard does a double take to see her driving. Alone. She pushes the button to lower the window. “Please let me out.”
“Um, yes, ma’am. Give me just a second.” He swipes his phone and puts it to his ear.
“I’m not a prisoner! You can’t keep me from leaving!”
His eyes widen at her shout, as startled as she is at her ferocity. For Nick. But she has no choice. She has to do this for him.
“But—”
“Open the damn gate!”
He nods and fumbles around the switchboard before the wrought iron begins to slide outward. Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, she glances at the side mirror. Oscar races down the driveway toward her vehicle in opposition to the snail pace of the gates. Her fingers flex on the steering wheel as she whispers, “Come on! Come on!”
As soon as the opening is wide enough to clear her car, she punches the accelerator and races through. Her hands shake, one gripping the wheel, the other tapping on the screen for the directions. The silky fabric of her dress clings to her body from the sweat dripping between her shoulder blades, pooling in the small of her back.
Her phone buzzes, and Nick’s number flashes on the screen. With trembling fingers, she presses the ignore button. Guilt clenches her heart. He probably thinks she’s freaking out and running away again, not realizing she’s coming to save him this time. To keep him from falling over the edge, from letting his fear of losing her destroy everything they’ve built together.
Limos and huge SUVs fill the funeral home parking lot. Like the rogue version of the secret service, men in black suits and sunglasses mill around. Heads whip in her direction after she climbs out of her vehicle. A pop star in a long gown and high heels is not the usual guest at a mob funeral.
The door opens to a car parked by the side entrance, and Juan steps out, flanked by four men. Her legs like lead, she can’t move.Please don’t look over. Please don’t see me.
Almost as if he senses the fear pulsing in her chest, he slowly turns in her direction, and their eyes lock. A shudder shakes her body at his flash of recognition and slow smile. Stopping Nick her only goal, she runs toward the canopy-covered front door. The squeal of tires is the last thing she hears before her head slams against the asphalt.
