Make You Mine by K.T. Quinn

43

Jayce

I opened my eyes, wincing at the sunlight streaming in the high windows of the barn, and thought to myself, I fucked it up.

I’d had everything I could have wanted in life. A beautiful woman who looked back at me with the same love I felt for her. Someone who let me be myself, without the walls I put up around other people. A woman I could open up to. Someone I could see myself spending the rest of my life with.

And I fucked it up.

The sunlight was still streaming into the barn. That meant it was morning. If Charlotte hadn’t come back by now, she wasn’t going to. It was too late.

I forced myself to get out of bed and drink a glass of water. It did little to stop the hangover pounding in my head, so I wandered into my workshop. It was full of things I’d created with love and inspiration. The sight of my art was sickening, now. I’d pushed away the only woman who appreciated it. If Charlotte had even been telling the truth.

Rage burned in my veins like acid.

The baseball bat fit nicely in my palms as I pulled back and swung at the nearest metal statue. A home run swing to the head, bending the neck sideways. It made the statue look like he was pondering something deep, like philosophy.

Four more swings and the head broke away from the body, clattering across the floor.

I thrashed around me with the bat, striking anything and everything within reach. I wasn’t satisfied until I’d destroyed half of my workshop. Statues and tools. By the time I stopped my arms ached like I’d chopped wood for an hour.

It didn’t make me feel any better.

My eyes found a photograph of Theresa taped to the wall. The regret in my chest twisted into despair, and then despair into anger. The anger roared up like a fire stoked by bellows, turning cold steel into white-hot fury.

Sid. All of this was his fault. I’d been too scared to try anything against him before, but now I didn’t care.

Now, I didn’t have anything to lose.

I stalked back into my room and made a phone call.

“The fuck do you want?” asked someone. An underling of Sid’s answering for him.

“Let me talk to him.”

The peon barked a laugh. “He’s too busy to talk to a traitor like you.”

“I’ve got his money,” I said. “I’m ready to give it back. I’ll be on the main street at three o’clock.”

I hung up because there was no point in waiting for confirmation. I knew Sid would be there. He wouldn’t be able to resist. And by three, Charlotte would be gone from town. Away from all the danger.

Then I could finally end this, once and for all.

I loaded my shotgun with fresh shells, then checked the magazine in my pistol. It was futile, since I would never get a chance to use all the ammo. In all likelihood I would only be able to fire one shot.

Hopefully that’s all I need.

“You’re going to get your fucking money,” I said as I walked out to my bike. “Every goddamn dollar. Even if it kills me.”

My bike rumbled underneath me as I shot away from the barn toward my fate.