I shook with fury. “Then, you can shove your hit where the sun doesn’t shine. If you don’t lay off Israel, then I don’t give a shit what you do. Because you’re going down, either way.”
He sighed. “I really wish you wouldn't have said that.”
He hung up, and I dropped the phone to the floor. I pressed my back against the hallway and slid down, allowing tears of fear and anger and frustration to trail down my cheeks. I let them drip down my neck as I clutched my phone, trying to still my quaking body.
But now, I was painfully aware of just how many windows this damn place had.
You have to call him. You have to call Israel.
“And say what, though?”
Tell him what happened. Tell him about the snipers.
“Is he really going to believe me, though? I can’t even get the man to sleep with me, much less trust me.”
What’s it going to look like if you don’t try, though?
“I don’t know. Like I was secretly working with my uncle all along? He already believes that, right?”
You never know until you call.
I looked down at my phone and sighed. I needed to know if my uncle was bluffing. I needed to know if he actually had sights on Israel or not. So, I picked up the phone and dialed his number.
And when I heard him munching on something, my stomach dropped.
“What is it?” Israel asked.
“Are you eating grapes by any chance?”
He paused. “Yes…? Why?”
“And you’re in a grocery store right now?”
I heard his cart crash into something. “I’m leaving now. When I get home, you’re going to tell me how you know this. Got it?”
“My uncle called.”
“Not on the phone. When I get home. I’ll have the groceries delivered.”
“He had snipers—”
“When. I get. Home. Stay put. Stay away from the windows. I’m heading back now.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
I heard a car door open. “I’ll be home soon. Stay in the hallway upstairs. Okay?”
“I’m already here.”
“Good girl. ETA is five.”
Then, he hung up the phone. Leaving me to cry by myself as I curled my knees to my chest. When the hell did everything get so fucked?