Maid For The Mafia by Alice T. Boone
Chapter Twelve
Breathing was impossible once we slammed into park, finally faced with the safehouse we’d cleared only an hour before. I hadn’t seen Terry panicked before— not like this. If I’d been by his side for another six months, another six decades, I didn’t think I’d see this side of him. Moves that were once so calculated, so practiced, so routine grew erratic. As he drove, his breath came in pained huffs. Every piece of him seemed to move so quickly and then, all at once, the rush stopped.
Once he relaxed back into his seat, nothing seemed to move at all.
“Stay here,” Terry murmured, a lull barely loud enough to dull the ache in my neck. “Stay quiet.”
“Terry, please.”
“Keep it running. Once Jemma’s out here, just go.” His dark eyes remained on the house in front of us, but maybe that didn’t surprise me. I couldn’t look away from the damn thing either— even as he murmured his last condition. “Whether I’m with her or not.”
“Terry, I’m not waiting out here.” Words came out rushed, my hands flying to my stomach when the bile built. “I love her just as much as you do. Don’t bring me here and then tell me to wait outside.”
We couldn’t watch each other— not like we used to. Instead, we sat in a tense silence, locked in this still state. I couldn’t breathe again until Terry gave a gentle nod.
“Thank you.”
Though, hope wouldn’t last for long. As I moved to climb out of the car, moved to rush to the end, Terry’s grip on my wrist pulled me back. My shoulder cried out as he jerked me back, but once we locked eyes again, I couldn’t feel much of anything. Within minutes, Terry had gone from the beast who couldn’t look at me to the man who I worried would never look away.
“Selina, the second I tell you to leave, you’ve got to go. Promise me.”
For months I worried about lying to him, about getting caught under his gaze. Now, the lie seemed to slip out of my lips so easily, I wondered if he’d even notice.
“I promise, Terry.”
“You need to keep yourself safe above all else. I can’t worry about you in there.”
If he doubted me, his eyes didn’t show it. His icy grip relaxed and for a final time, he relaxed back into his seat— the peaceful nod of a dead man.
I imagined concrete walls and fake doors. I had counted on a moat and a dragon, not a poorly manicured lawn and a cracked driveway. While I’d heard Terry talk about the safe house, it wasn’t something I’d seen until that night. The structure stood about 40 minutes south of the O’Brian mansion, just a few minutes outside of the city. The safe house sat on the edge of a wartimes subdivision, seemingly untouched by the outside world and hidden behind a sparse treeline. The only thing unordinary about the bungalow was how unbelievably ordinary it was, but then, maybe that was the point. Terry had always been a fan of hiding in plain sight— a concept I hadn’t fully understood until we were in front of the damn thing.
By the time we got out of the car, I refused to budge from Terry’s side. With a handgun in his left, Terry led me forward with his right, sticking low to the ground as we crawled along the dark underbrush. He’d turned the headlights off before we’d even approached the block, his car parked in a stranger’s driveway hoping to avoid any detection. He didn’t blink as he led me through a neighbour’s backyard, as he lifted himself over the makeshift fence and through the treeline. We stayed low as he led me into the garage, waving me forward only when he had cleared the room and set his eye on the keypad against the wall.
Time stopped as he sucked in a breath, as his muscles froze before punching in the code.
Then, the world felt like it’d never stop spinning.
He held me back as he slammed the door open, stepping in gun first. I’d known Terry to be focused, but the hunter he’d become now was unlike anything I’d ever seen. His eyes remained wide, trained, eager as he led me forward. Though, once I finally stepped inside, once I laid eyes on the teenager just a few feet away, not even Terry’s steady hand could hold me back. Her name was tumbling out of my mouth before I even realized the danger it could put us in, relief and desperation churning in my stomach.
“Jemma!”
The girl spun on her heel, and her brows knitted together as she focused in on me. “Selina?”
I couldn’t make out Travis’ frame until it was already too late. Terry tugged me back protectively, a snarl surely choked in his tightening throat. The kitchen sat to the right of the entrance, a pillar the only thing to offer either of them any protection. As Jemma turned to face me, it was impossible not to notice the way Travis retreated, certain Terry wouldn’t put a bullet through her stomach just to reach the monster behind her. The terror that washed over the boy’s features was impossible to hide, and I was certain stories of Terry’s legacy lapped at the back of his head.
Though, I couldn’t notice much more than Jemma’s condition.
No bruises.
No blood.
Just excuses, just another lie from a love-struck pup.
“What the fuck is going on?”
Immediately, Jemma tensed, and my stomach threatened to crawl out my throat. My body would have marched to its death for her, desperate to save the girl I knew was in danger. My heart, though, had never been as strong. When Jemma’s eyes darted over to me, finally frightened of the mess she’d created, I felt my patience slip.
How much more heartache was I supposed to survive?
I softened my features as much as I could, a final plea falling from this hole in my chest. “Jemma, please just answer him.”
“Don’t answer him,” Travis barked.
When the command came, Terry’s body lunged forward. The growl chilled my bones, but Jemma’s scream jerked me into action. While Travis held the girl in front of him, I grabbed onto Terry’s jacket for dear life. It was only when my heels dug into the ground that Terry slowed, that his scream dulled to a snarl. If I didn’t keep him in check, Terry would burn us all alive.
“Leave the bag.” The demand stiffened Terry’s muscles again, and my grip on his jacket tightened. Behind Jemma, Travis straightened. “Leave the bag, and I’ll leave her at the drop point.”
“You son of a—-”
If his eyes hadn’t been glued to Jemma, I was certain Terry would have reacted instantly. Instead, as Travis pulled his gun from his waistband, everything in the room seemed to freeze. It took Jemma another moment to recognize the object held out in front of her now, the snarl that built inside the man behind her. While Terry tugged me behind him, pulled me to the only safety he knew, Travis held his place behind the teenager.
“Travis, this isn’t—-”
“Jemma.” My hoarse cry pulled her attention back across the room. “Please just tell us what’s going on.”
I didn’t have to hear the explanation—- not after I caught that look in her eye. Jemma’s shoulders fell the same way mine had a dozen times before. A single look was all it took to pull out the memories I’d hidden in the back of my head, the nights wasted arguing with my own father.
“We just needed some money to get started.”
As my chest collapsed, the beast in Terry’s roared to life.
“You mother fucker.”
“I don’t understand,” I choked, my hand on his chest the only thing that could hold Terry back. “Get started with what?”
“Travis proposed.” It was the look of hope in her eye that killed me the most, that spark that I knew would devour her alive. When Jemma watched my face twist in disgust, in pain, in pity, her shoulders collapsed. “It’s not like that.”
“Jem, this isn’t—” When another pain radiated through my marrow, I lost any chance of reprimanding her. Instead, all I could feel was regret, guilt for not seeing this mess coming. She was just a kid, and I’d let her down. “Oh, Jemma.”
“He knows a guy in Toronto who can make sure it’s all legal,” she rushed, as though that was going to make any of this better. “We could start fresh.”
“Are you kidding me?” Terry hissed behind me, forcing Jemma closer to the man behind her. “You’re gonna do this to me after everything I’ve done for you?”
When I caught sight of him moving forward, of this anger in his bones becoming too much for one man to bear, I did the only thing I knew how to do anymore. I dug my heels into the ground. My eyes didn’t shift off Jemma as I waved an arm at Terry, didn’t hesitate as I begged for her father to place just an ounce of trust in my stomach. Slowly, reluctantly, sickly, I felt the man fall into rank behind me, his breath escaping in a hiss as I tried one last time.
“Jemma, please just come home. We can talk about it.”
My stomach twisted when Jemma’s face screwed up, disgust and distrust lacing her venomous bite.
“Come home to what?” the teenager spat. When her gaze shifted between me and her father, my jaw tightened. “You’re gonna try to tell me Travis doesn’t love me when you love him!? How is that any different?”
“For one, Terry would never ask me to sacrifice my father to be with him.”
The certainty that pushed her forward crumpled around her. In a moment of doubt, Jemma stole a glance at the man behind him, and a fresh wave of sickness took over the room. It was bad enough to think Jemma was in on it, that Terry had drifted so far from her heart that she would send her own father into a trap. To think that Travis had blinded her completely was somehow worse.
“Enough bullshit,” Terry snapped, taking a step forward. Whatever faith he had in me vanished, patience worn hours ago. “You want an answer? Give him the fuckin’ money.”
With a hiss, my eyes snapped back to him. “What?”
Terry’s eyes remained trained on Travis— at least, until he noticed me turn to face him. “Give him the money, Selina,” he ground, forcing the bag in his hand into my chest. When my knees threatened to cave instead of carry me forward, I watched his patience waiver again. “Give him the fucking money!” he snarled, turning his attention back to Travis. “You make the trade you wanted to make. You give me Jemma and I’ll give you everything I have.”
Even before I looked over to him, I could tell those precious moments would be burned into Jemma’s memory forever. My father taught me that broken people only attracted broken people, and as I looked over my shoulder, I found myself praying Jemma didn’t have to learn that same lesson. It only took Travis a moment to think before his fingers were around her bicep, before he was motioning for me to bring him the cash.
“Travis.” Jemma’s brows knitted together, desperation not taking over until her gaze finally focused on the beast behind her. “Travis!”
“It’s done, Jemma,” Terry snarled. “This is the fucker you traded your family for.”
It only took a moment for her sobs to fill the room. But then, maybe it was the loop of memory that drowned it all out. The bruise his fingers left on her would be gone long before the damage to her heart healed, gone long before I felt it was okay to breathe again. All of those years my father had prepared me for this. All of those heart aches I’d experienced, all of those times I assured myself that pain was for a greater cause, and I couldn’t help but feel like this had all been for not.
If I couldn’t protect her from the hurt I knew so well, what the hell was the point of it all?
Sorrow and sympathy left me nearly debilitated, but when my vision narrowed to the broken girl in front of me, none of that seemed to matter. I couldn’t feel the ache in my bones anymore, couldn’t feel the hole in my heart. I hadn’t saved her from heartbreak, but I was certain I’d get her out of here in one piece. With the duffle bag clutched to my chest, each step forward was more careful than the last. I forced breath through my lungs as I made my way towards her, my eyes refusing to leave the viper’s until I had Jemma’s hand in my own.
In a single second, this mess was over.
That was all it took for Travis to throw her away.
But then, I wasn’t sure young love was ever that simple.
Jemma was back in my arms the second Travis’ disgusting fingers dug into the canvas, my shirt already soaked with her tears. Immediately, I pivoted to place my body between them, protecting Jemma with the only thing I had left. Together, we managed our way back towards the garage door. Though, as much as I hummed that it would be okay, that this would be over soon, that I’d get her home safely, my heart tugged me back. As we approached the door, as I noticed Terry wasn’t pressed behind me, panic filled my chest.
The plea choked its way through my chest before I had even turned around, before I caught the transformation. Whatever tenseness I had seen in Terry before was gone now, suddenly drowned with a new kind of acceptance. Anger twisted him into something I could hardly recognize, and once he was certain his daughter was in safe hands, Terry accepted a new fate— one I didn’t want to admit.
“Terry, please.”
“Wait out in the car.”
Within my arms, I could feel Jemma’s skin prickle. The teenager choked out another sob, and this time, even my hand on her head couldn’t soothe her back into my arms. “Please, let’s just go,” she begged. “Dad, don’t!”
“Selina, take her out to the car.”
My heart dropped to my stomach as Jemma twisted out of my grip. Terry wouldn’t so much as flinch when Jemma threw herself across the room, when she threw herself to her father’s feet. With his eyes glued to Travis, my name hiss off his lips.
“Selina!”
“It was my idea!” Jemma’s cry pushed me forward, but when my hand landed on her back, she shook even that off. Terry’s eyes remained trained, and when his face wouldn’t twist with the lie, Jemma’s gaze fell over her shoulder. When her vision landed on Travis, I watched her body collapse all over again. “Trav, tell him it was my—-”
Everything with Terry worked quickly. His violence, his love, was no exception. The moment Travis’ eyes shifted to Jemma’s, Terry’s body hissed back to life. The shot rang through the house with a terrifying clarity—- one the scream could never rival. Instinct was the only thing left to throw my tired body forward, and Jemma’s frame clattered beneath mine with a pained cry. Three more shots would ring through the air before Terry was back to the ground beside us, crouched behind the counter as the scent of blood filled the room.
Two more shots rattled the walls before the silence took over. I could feel Jemma heaving beneath me, was certain her sobs would live in my memory forever, but as I held my breath, the only person I could focus on was Terry. HIs eyes had darkened, widened, and as I watched the man I knew become the beast I didn’t, I kept my body low to the floor.
“I didn’t think you were this fucking stupid,” Terry hissed, taking a moment to count how many shots he had left. “This is why shitheads like you stay on the bottom their entire life.” His attention didn’t perk until a pained hiss came from the kitchen behind us, a sign of life in the dying man. “Fuckers like you think you deserve shit when you haven’t done a single goddamn thing.”
“I did everything for you!” The shriek came with a grunt of pain, with the sound of a bloodied stump being pulled across the floor. “I had to work for everything I—-”
“You don’t have shit,” Terry bit, “You can’t even pull off a goddamn ransom, you piece of—-”
When another shot rang through the house, Terry’s body sunk even lower. The space beside his head splintered apart, and while a scream left the girl beneath me, Terry had never looked so focused in his life.
“Please!”
His daughter’s sob had a way of pulling him back. Terry’s jaw tightened, and as his gaze shifted to the girl on the ground, I watched him transform again. The darkness would always have a way of highlighting Terry’s sadness, of bringing out his greatest sympathies. His eyes held a kindness I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen in him before—- a kindness I didn’t ever want to see again.
His head tilted to the side. Through clenched teeth, Terry hissed out the only mercy he was capable of. “Tell her the truth.”
“Fuck you!”
“Tell her the truth and I’ll give you 30 fucking minutes.”
The silence would only be broken with another sound of pain, with the gush of another bloodied limb. His jaw clenched as Terry’s breathing shallowed. Silent movements tore the jacket off his body, and as the man tossed it across the room and into the open space, the sound of shots shook the house. It was the quiet that came after, the defeated click of an empty chamber, that moved Terry the most. It took only a second for Terry to lunge into the open, a crouched shot bringing once last scream of pain from Travis’ lungs, from Jemma’s chest.
Then, the world fell silent.
Terry didn’t move as Jemma crawled out from under me, and my numbed body was too weak to stop her. Her sobs choked her throat as Jemma crawled to her lover on the floor, pushing past the only man who genuinely loved her without a moment’s hesitation. It wasn’t until I stood that I took in the damage. Travis’ hand had been blown apart, a bloodied hole through his palm. It was the shattered knee cap that left him screaming, though. It was the bullet through his leg that filled the room with his blood.
Jemma’s hands were stained the moment she neared him, her palms drifting along every injury when she was unsure of how to help. Her cry of desperation pulled me forward, but before I could take another step into the kitchen, Terry pulled me back beside him. From her place in the dirt, Jemma’s head whipped around to cry out one last time.
“Help him!”
Terry’s jaw stiffened, but his gaze wouldn’t shift. “Tell her what you were going to do.”
I wouldn’t stop him when he moved forward. I wasn’t sure I could. Silence brought Terry’s boot down on Travis’ head, and as Jemma pulled at her father’s leg, Terry offered the last bit of kindness his chest would allow.
“You’re running out of time,” he snarled. “Were you going to take her?”
“No!”
The quiet that came next would never be the one we needed. In the space where a father’s love should have enveloped her, all Terry could offer was another sick look. Jemma’s body froze, still knelt at an altar she never really believed in. Her muscles wouldn’t so much as twitch until my hand rested on her shoulder, and even then, it was only to cry out in guttural pain. Finally, the teen fell into my arms, and as Jemma’s weight collapsed into me, I held her the way she needed to be held.
Blood soaked through the back of my shirt as Jemma grabbed at me, her tears staining my collar as I led her back towards the door. Her body wouldn’t freeze again until we made our way to the door, until she realized that the man she needed wasn’t behind her. Terry stood in the kitchen, a dark resignation taking hold of his bones as he looked down on the boy.
“Terry, it’s over,” I hissed, finally earning a shred of his attention. “Your daughter needs you right now.”
My shoulders didn’t relax when his eyes finally landed on me, didn’t find rest when the growl built within his chest. I knew he was weighing his options. Terry was trying to soothe this thing in his chest with images of the future, desperately trying to pretend that our lives wouldn’t be forever tainted with insecurity once the night ended. I couldn’t relax— not until he’d made his decision.
Not until his hand rested so gently on the small of my back.
Not until we were all a unit again.
Not until I knew we were safe at home, safe together.