Page 214 of Murder

I shut my eyes. I think about her under me tonight, about the way she leaned up when we both finished and wrapped her arms around me, bringing me down on her.

“Sweet Bear. Something’s bugging you. I’m going to find out. Unless you decide to tell me. Hmm?”

A snowflake melts on my temple, and I can feel the ghost burn of her lips there.

“I love you. You know that, right? You’re mine—and you will always be mine. Just because I said so.”

“Bear?” Her voice is high and sharp. Her hand is on my arm.

I keep my eyes shut, even as the moisture freezes on my cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice is softer now. Inviting. Understanding.

I inhale, and I can’t feel my frozen chest. I still can’t look at her.

“Hey…” She wraps her arms around my waist.

Don’t do that.

“Is it the noise?”

I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. Shake my head.

“What is it then?”

She strokes my shoulders. I can barely feel it through my jacket. But my hands are free. My hands are free to reach into my pocket.

“It’s okay, baby.” She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me lower. Her lips touch my face—ice cold. I feel her stand down off her tiptoes.

“Is it me?” She whispers. “I’ve been feeling like it’s triggering for you. Something about this. Coming here?”

She knows me, this girl. Gwenna misses nothing.

It’s an effort to open my eyes. To look at her face. Gwenna, whom I love. Gwen for whom I’ve waited my whole life.

That I have to do this…

That this is the end. It hurts so much. I ease my hand into my pocket, wrap my fingers around the gun grip. I look into her lovely eyes, although it almost kills me.

“Gwen…”

If Niccolo knows. If people are following me, following us, and Blue says they’re not his father’s guys…

It’s not as if they’d actually tell Blue. If his father decided to pull the trigger, why would they tell Blue ahead of time?

Nic is a security risk. And I can’t kill him. Not John’s brother.

Blue’s father is a threat. A real one.

I’m a risk: to Gwen.

I squeeze the gun, not knowing what to do. I don’t know what to fucking do.

GWENNA

Something is very, very wrong. That’s all I know at first. Barrett is talking things that don’t make sense. His hands are in his hair. His eyes are huge. His mouth is open. He looks stunned—or hurt. As if he doesn’t know where he is, or what is going on.

I grab onto his hips. “Barrett! Look at my face.”

---