Page 63 of Till Death Do Us Part

“What do you mean?”

“I’m angry at them all, Felicity.” Blowing out a breath, I glance over the sea of guests. Most are laughing or talking loudly. Very few look upset at the death of my father. “He shouldn’t be here, but they forced us to bury him in New York. A home that hasn’t been his for fifteen years. Antonio plays the role of doting husband today. When in real life, he’s nothing more than a cunt. My sisters have to leave and go back to London,together,while I’m stuck here. And Leonardo—”

I bite my tongue to stop the words spewing from my mouth. Felicity gasps beside me, and I can feel the burn of her eyes on my profile, though I refuse to look at her. We fall quiet, the silence deafening, though, I’m only grateful she doesn’t ask me to elaborate.

My anger towards him is unwarranted, I know that; it’s hard to put into words why my rage burns at the thought of him. We had two perfect days. Two days in which he showed me what a life of freedom with him could look like—and for that, I hate him. I hate him for giving me a glimpse into a future that will never be mine.

“Come on,” Felicity says a little while later, threading her fingers through mine and pulling me towards the exit. “Let’s get out of here.”

“We shouldn’t,” I start, my voice wavering as I eye my sisters standing over in the corner, talking quietly amongst themselves. Watching them together, the way they cling to one another cracks something inside of me. They will always have each other, and I’m grateful for that . . . but who do I have now?

“Okay,” I relent with a sharp nod, letting her pull me into the bitter cold. Goosebumps raise on my arms in the wind, the black shirt I’m wearing doing little to stave off the cold.

I brush my palms over my black trousers, wiping away the lint that sits there before following Felicity to her car. Her little white Audi comes to life, heat pouring through the vents as she pulls away from the nightclub, leaving the wake behind. The sky cries, coating the world in darkness. It’s fitting for the day and yet depressing all the same.

“Where are we going?” I ask when we’re still driving an hour later. We’ve long since left the city lights behind and are now driving down a dark side street that looks like something straight from a horror film.

She doesn’t answer, just keeps barrelling down the road until we come up to an old warehouse. It looks abandoned and has certainly seen better days. The brick is worn and eroding, so close to crumbling. Lights flicker from a boarded-up window. Anxiety creeps inside of me, coiling in my stomach when she switches the engine off.

“Felicity.” She twists her face to mine, her eyes lowered as she blows out a deep breath.

“I’m so sorry, Pippa.” She hops out of the car, her shoulders slumped in defeat as she walks around and opens the door next to me. “I’m so so sorry.”

“What are you apologising for? I don’t understand. Where are we?”

“I didn’t want to,” she tells me, her voice cracking. “He has my family, Pippa. I couldn’t let him hurt them.”

“Felicity, what the hell is going on?”

“I hope you can forgive me one day.”

“Felicity,” I snap, stepping out of the car and clutching her bicep until she finally looks me in the eyes. Her face is white as a ghost, her eyes filling with tears as the rain soaks us both. “Talk to me.”

“I can’t,” she whispers, pulling out of my grip before closing the car door. She walks to the driver side, her body trembling as she slides back into her seat. The click of locks sounds, and she looks at me once more through the windows, shaking her head and mouthing a silent apology.

My eyes widen, watching as she pulls away, leaving me in the middle of nowhere.

Alone.

The rain dampens my hair, the curled strands now falling limp over my shoulders. My black shirt and trousers chill me to the bone as water seeps through them, pinning them against my skin.

Pulling my phone out, I find Sofia’s contact, but the line only beeps a few times before going dead.Shit.No signal. Well, isn’t that bloody brilliant.

A rumble of thunder sounds in the distance, followed by a quick flash of lightning. I spin on my heels, facing the rolling door of the building Felicity dropped me outside of. Whatever she was apologising for, I’m pretty sure it’s inside of there—which tells me I need to run in the other direction and not look back.

Unfortunately for me, I’ve never been good at running.

The sound of heels clicking on the concrete echoes down the street, swallowed up in the roar of thunder as I make my way towards the door. With a creak, the rollers pull up, welcoming me inside.

A vicious chill travels over me, the hair at the nape of my neck standing to attention in the darkness before me. The space is barren and silent. Nothing for the eye to see as I traipse across the floor, moving towards where the light flickers in the distance.

Dread trickles over my spine, my hand moving to grip the gun tucked into the waistband of my trousers. One of the many things I learnt from my father, never leave the house unarmed.

Coming up to a staircase, I pull the weapon free, clicking the safety off before moving up the first step. Before moving to New York, I lived my life fearless. Confident and strong. But over the months, something changed inside of me.

Life hit me like a tonne of bricks, smashing my perfectly built confidence into a million pieces. And now, when I need to find myself again, I feel like that same little girl that first walked into the shooting range with Papá.

Scared.

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