Page 124 of It Must Be Fate

“I think that might be your mom, Ivy. I told her you hurt your knee, I’m sure she wants to check that you’re okay.”

More like she wants to snoop on how the afternoon is going, but I can’t be mad. Having her here is going to make this experience that much more enjoyable. The woman is pure entertainment.

I head over to the door and open it without checking the cameras, already reprimanding her. “I knew you couldn’t resist getting involv—”

My words cut off abruptly when I find myself looking down the barrel of a gun. Confusion sweeps over me first, the cognitive dissonance of opening my front door to find a weapon brandished in my face rendering me dumb for a moment.

Then my gaze moves past the gun to the man holding it. Understanding and fear replace the confusion in one terrifying second.

Peter Gingrinch.

Peter, who was supposed to be in prison for at least eight more years. Peter, whose wealth and influence bought him a reduced sentence and early release based on good behavior.

Rogue was right and I should have listened, but it’s too late for that now.

I immediately bar the door with my arms, trying to close it behind me so he can’t come in. There’s no fear for myself, only for the two kids who are just inside. I don’t believe in god, but I find myself praying that they’ll go to the cinema room. That they won’t come after me. That Peter will never know they’re there.

“What the hell do you want?”

His jaw twitches, his face contorting in an angry rictus. Veins throb in his temple, rendering him even uglier than usual. “Nothing’s changed. You’re still the same entitled bitch I remember.”

“And you’re still the same spineless coward who can only pick fights with those more defenseless than them. Doesn’t your back hurt from bending over to punch this low?”

I bite back a gasp when he presses the gun to the middle of my forehead. Bringing his face inches from mine, he sneers, “Doesn’t your mouth hurt from saying stupid shit that’ll get you killed?” He licks his lips, bringing his gaze down to mine. “There are so many better uses for it too.”

Ice chills my spine and I have to repress a shiver. I’d rather he just kill me now then try and put his hands on me.

He pushes the barrel into my forehead to try to force me back into the house, but I won’t go. Not when that’ll bring me closer to the kids.

“Move,” he orders.

“No.”

“Do you think I won’t do it? You think I won’t shoot you in the fucking head?”

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to buy more time, how to get him away from my house, from my k—

“Mum?”

My eyes close. A garbled sound of defeat rolls up my throat. My stomach plummets and constricts, fear taking hold of my insides and squeezing with deadly intent.

Peter sneers. “Mum? Now that’s an unexpected but exciting development.”

“Go to the cinema room, Rhodes!” I shout without turning. Addressing Peter, I add, “Leave him alone. He has nothing to do with this.”

The expression on his face contorts into a twisted, cruel smile. Before he can say anything, I feel the door open up further behind me.

I extend my arms to either side of me and place my body between Peter and my son, shielding Rhodes from his gaze.

“Go back inside,” I hiss.

Peter moves so fast that I don’t have time to brace myself before the gun is brought down on my temple. I cry out and fall to one knee, clutching my head.

Small hands grab my shoulders. “Mum!”

The terrified tenor of Rhodes’s voice slices a wound inside me that’s much more painful than the throbbing in my head.

I clutch my head, whimpering. “Leave, Rhodes.Run.”

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