Page 170 of Cara
“He’s dead,” I whisper. “They’re all dead.”
Our parents.
Dominic.
Rosa.
Caesar.
Thomas.
They are all gone.
“You lost your business. Your men. Your reputation.”
“Meaningless things,” he says, holding me closer to prove his point.
We dress each other, wincing and occasionally laughing when we aren’t too overwhelmed by the weight of helplessness neither of us can escape as the sun rises, revealing another day.
We struggle to conceal our injuries with cosmetics.
Xavier closes his eyes wearily when I sweep back his hair to dab at a blue bruise near his hairline. The television is set at alow volume, but when we hear familiar names, our eyes dart to the screen.
As soon as the image of Bellarosa and Caesar appears on the flat screen, Xavier is swiftly on his feet, moving to avoid confronting the reality of this. Tears fill my eyes at the thought of their final moments—two of the last people who deserved such an end.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, not quite sure what to say.
His silence speaks volumes. It indicates that this is something he will grapple with for the rest of his life. Isabella. We are both thinking of her now, a world away.
“The warehouse burned to the ground,” Xavier says as he turns off the television.
“You?”
His nod confirms that. “They are broadcasting our deaths, too.”
A lump forms in my throat. “Then we have a chance.”
Years of helplessness pass between us.
He grabs two passports from the desk. “It has to be now.”
My eyes span the skyline, sensing pandemonium beyond these four walls, an immense danger neither of us has ever been ready for.
We tried once four years ago.
It nearly killed us.
In the lingering silence, we grasp the significance of what we’re contemplating—the risks involved in chasing the impossible dream we both had forsaken.
Everything we love—it’s not here.
My hand covers the bandage protecting a patched hole in my body.
Gather any courage you have left, woman.
Run away with him.
“Flight 114. Now boarding group one.”
