Page 96 of Wicked Tricks
“You think that I won’t fucking kill you?” Rome shouted as Sierra moved slightly. I could tell that she was on edge. I could feel how she was feeling.
Sierra’s bottom jaw quivered slightly, and it looked almost as if she were fighting back tears.
“Rome,” I urged quietly, pleading with my eyes for her to fight back the anger I could feel pulsing through her even from the distance between us. She needed to calm herself. The more she pushed Sierra, the more of a chance that I would end up with a bullet in my chest.
She read my mind, and sighed, lowering her gun - but only slightly.
“Even if you do this, even if Diana does accept you back - do you really think any of us girls will forgive you? Bea? Mina? Livie?” she said, with a softness to her voice.
“You guys are all I have,” Sierra choked softly, looking at me but speaking to Rome.
Rome sighed, “then why did you betray us?”
“I thought I was doing the right thing okay? You said it yourself that we didn’t need Diana anymore. We were in danger, our whole way of life was in danger - because of you!” this time she shouted at me, taking the gun from my chest to my head, pressing the cool metal between my eyebrows.
I took a deep breath and said a silent prayer, just in case.
Then I heard it, the gun shot - and I squeezed my eyes shut.
25
Chapter 25
Rome
Ishot her.
Reflexively, as I saw her press the gun to Antoni’s head, I took the shot. Sierra screamed and dropped the gun, holding her arm where the bullet entered. She would not die, of course, but I still felt my stomach sink as I watched her drop to the dirt floor.
Antoni opened his eyes, looking at Sierra in front of him on the ground. He quickly leant down and picked up the gun, taking it away from her.
My breathing was unsteady, my head even more so.
Even after everything, I couldn’t believe that I had just hurt one of my girls, over a man. Sierra was right, it was against everything I preached so hard about. But I knew that given a repeat of the situation, I would do it again. I couldn’t bear the sight of the gun against Antoni, even if I didn’t fully understand it.
“Rome,” he turned to me, tucking the gun into his waistband, “are you okay?” he approached with caution, his hands out.
I nodded, and he came to me, wrapping his big arms around me. I wanted to melt against him, but I couldn’t let myself. He led me away from Sierra, away from the lookout, away and into the cover of the forest and shushed me, stroking my hair as I attempted to get my breathing under control.
“Look,” he said, holding my shoulders and ducking slightly so he could look into my eyes, “I haven’t wanted to push you, but I need to say this right now. I want you, Rome. And after what you just did for me? I know you want me too. Just… let me take care of you.”
I shook my head, taking one last glance at Sierra who was looking up at us, with questions in her eyes.
“I can’t,” I muttered, shrugging out of his hold and rushing to my car, getting inside and closing the door. Antoni reached for the passenger side door but I locked it before he could open it.
“Rome!” I heard his muffled shouting through the glass as I shifted the car into reverse. I couldn’t be here, I couldn’t deal with it.
I turned the car in a hard circle and sped off, tyres squealing and lifting the loose dust and spreading it behind me. I could see Antoni in my rear view mirror, still yelling my name as I read his lips. The last thing I saw was him pulling out his phone, and looking down at Sierra. I was confident that he could handle it from there.
I was hyperventilating on the highway, driving more recklessly than I liked.
“Idiot!” I punched the dash of the car, “Idiot, idiot, fucking idiot!” I screamed to myself inside the car. The man that I wanted had just told me he wanted me, the words I wanted to hear, and yet I still fled like a coward. The tears were streaming down my face, I had cried more in the past few days than I had in years - and I hated myself for it.
I had no one else to blame anymore.
Not a single person was responsible for my pain except for me. Why couldn’t I say the words out loud? Why couldn’t I admit the feelings I so obviously had?
I felt weak, I hated him for making me feel weak.
