“Or they’re running.” Will finishes.
My mind is chaos, and like earlier, I snap. “Can we stop discussing that shit and focus on why we’re here?”
“Yeah, Jagger,” Will tells me, his tone sympathetic.
We open the door of the room we’re in, finding a vacant hallway. The old, dingy carpet muffles our footsteps, but wedon’t make it far before a door opens. A tall man with short, dark hair walks out backward, laughing. Another voice comes from inside the room.
Before the man can turn around, I wrap my arms around his neck, cutting off his airway. Lightning fast, Will steps around me into the doorway. He lifts his arms and fires his gun. The silenced round slides through the air as the man in my grip is claimed by unconsciousness. I lower him to the ground gently to prevent any suspicious noises, then snap his neck. Will’s brows go up, a million questions in his eyes, but he says nothing.
We check the two other rooms as we make our way through the apartment, finding no one else up here. With cautiousness, we open a door off the living area to a set of stairs that lead to the garage. A loud, obnoxious riff of some death metal song I’ve never heard rattles the walls, and I realize the apartment must be soundproofed.
At the bottom of the stairs, we use a large SUV for cover. Will goes left toward the guys Henry said were at a table.
I move toward Poppy.
My heart thumps with the beat of the music with each step.
“Will cleared the two guys,” Henry says through my earpiece.
He said there were two. That should be all of them. All I have to do is grab her.
We can go. This will be done.
Easy.
I maneuver around the only other car in the place, separating us.
My stomach twists.
Bile rises into my throat.
Reality sets in.
It was too fucking easy.
Poppy
The shot tore through the air, loud and final. It ricocheted off the steel walls, a violent echo that felt like it would never stop. I waited for sirens. For someone to care. For the world to react.
Nothing.
No sirens. No help. No one gave a damn.
But suddenly I did, and a scream ripped from my throat and tears flooded my eyes. My father’s body hit the ground. His gasps were shallow. Desperate. His blood painted the floor, dark and spreading. A masterpiece of every nightmare I’d ever have.
And all the time we lost because he couldn’t handle losing my mother, will always be my greatest regret.
It’s easier to remember the man who walked away than the one who once stayed. He’s why I’m here.
But I still remember the father he was. The man who adored his children. That doted on his wife.
I’m sure his issues with whatever he got himself into didn’t appear out of nowhere. While grief may have played a part, I’m not naïve enough to think they weren’t already a problem.
He was undoubtedly flawed.
But aren’t we all?
It doesn’t negate that for twelve years he was the greatest dad to two little girls, a loving son, and a devoted husband. My mom would’ve wanted me to forgive him. So would Nana. Especially in this moment.
