Page 192 of Stolen Voices
Fuck.
“Pathetic.” Silla shakes her head at me with fake disappointment.
“You’re pathetic. Not enough plastic surgery in the world can hide what a disgusting human being you are.” I grunt, sucking air through my teeth, and put pressure on the searing throb in my stomach as more blood soaks my hands.
Fuck, that hurts.
“That’s all you got,princess?”
My hackles rise as she uses the endearment Eli calls me.Fucking bitch.
She smirks. “You’re weak. It was so easy to manipulate you. My little singing and dancing puppet. Thanks for the paychecks, but now it’s time to say goodbye.” She walks over and smashes picture frames on the floor. Vases, glasses—anything she can get her hands on—follow as she destroys the living room. “Help me, you idiot,” she shouts at Novak.
He finally moves and helps her upend the armchair and coffee table. My heart sinks as he disappears into the kitchen, and I can hear him crashing glasses and tossing appliances.
I return my attention to Silla as I try to catch my breath, wrapping the adrenaline rushing through my veins around me like armor. “And just how do you expect to get away with letting me die, Silla? I bet someone heard the gun go off and called the cops. They’re probably on their way here now.” Blood fills my mouth as I grind my teeth. I spit a glob onto her feet. “You’ll never get away with this.”
She walks over and crouches down beside me, getting in my face. Silla lowers her voice. “Of course I will. When the police arrive, they’ll find you and your attacker dead. I shot him to protect you, but I was too late. You were already gone. Poor popstar gunned down in her own home by a stalker. I’ll be called a hero for trying to save you.”
“What attacker?”
“My sweet Bryan, of course. The poor man has lost his usefulness, don’t you think? He couldn’t even get rid of you, so now I have to. I should have cut him loose years ago, but you always have a soft spot for your first love. Don’t you?”
I want to throw up at the veiled reference to Chad and the way she fucked him. “You’re evil.”
“And, soon, very rich.”
“You’ll never get away with this.” I slide back against the couch. My stomach lurches, and my hands shake as the sting in my stomach pulses in time to my heartbeat. “Eli knows the truth. He will catch you. He’ll never stop going after you.”
Silla laughs and stands, towering over me. “I’d like to see him try. I’ll be long gone by then, waiting for my payout.”
“If he doesn’t catch you, the … ugh … t-the police will,” I stutter.
The evil witch laughs again, and it’s like nails on a chalkboard. “The police are idiots. They’ll believe anything I tell them. Just like before.” She steps on my thigh and aims the gun at my heart. “See you around,littlesister.”
Staring down the barrel, I close my eyes to think about Eli—the man who gave me strength and helped me become the strong woman I am—and wait for the inevitable. I hear the telltale sound of the trigger being pulled back before the gun pops.
My body lurches back from the explosion.Double fuck. The new burn in my chest hurts worse than the last. Between the blood pounding in my ears and the sound of the gun bang, I can’t hear anything as blood seeps from my shirt and drips down me.
When I open my eyes, I find Silla standing over me with an evil smile on her face.
Gasping for breath, I count to ten. As my breathing evens out, I call out to my back-up. “Did you guys get all that?”
“What the fuck?” Silla lowers the gun, her foot still on my leg, as she stares at me in confusion, shaking her head as it registers.
Gotcha, bitch.
“No,” Silla mutters.
“We got it, Callie.” Boone walks into the living room from his hiding place in the bedroom, where he was watching and recording Silla’s confession.
Mason appears next. “The police should be here soon.”
I kick Silla’s foot off my leg, and she stumbles back. Pushing up to sit, I rest against the couch and rub my chest. The squibs—small blood-filled packets attached to a timed explosive device—hidden in my shirt hurt more than I thought they would. Boone warned me they might burn and sting, but experiencing the hurt is a different story.
Silla’s confusion turns to anger. “No! You’re supposed to be dead,” she shrieks, firing the rest of the blanks in the gun at me until it clicks empty. “No!” She throws the gun at the floor.
“Oh yes.” I smile at Silla and stand before my sister. “Did you really think I’d be so easy to take down? You’ve mistaken my kindness for naivety. Who’s the stupid sister now?”
