Page 130 of Every Broken Piece
“That’s the plan.”
“Night, Gabe.”
“Night, Tess. I love you.”
Chapter fifty-seven
Tess
“You ready to go?” Pax is standing at the front door, hand on the knob, waiting patiently as I shove my new laptop into my new, bright red backpack. “Why’re you bringing that?”
“I want to get feedback from you guys on my new website design.”
“Cool,” is all he says, but I don’t care. I know Pax is excited. He’s been helping me all week. Jack has given his input about cybersecurity and writing code on the backend. I have no idea what any of it means, but I trust him to keep me safe. And Gabe’s been helping me set up my very own LLC. It’s exciting and terrifying all at the same time. I can’t help smiling even if I feel like throwing up.
For the first time ever, my life feels like it’s mine and I can’t wait to get it started.
“Was Kenzie helpful?” Pax asks as he opens the door while I slip my coat on then shrug my backpack over my shoulders.
“Extremely.” Kenzie is the girl from Starbucks that Pax told me about the night we got drunk. They’ve been on two dates. He’s super casual about her while Kenzie is hoping for a lot more. I like Kenzie. She’s smart. She knows website design and online sales. She’s not charging me for her services but she’s using my website as her senior project and for her portfolio for when she looks for jobs. I just hope Pax doesn’t break her heart.
We head out the door to meet Jack and Gabe for Thursday night pizza. Gabe was supposed to be home yesterday, but an emergency meeting kept him in New York an extra day. He’s going straight from the airport to meet us at the restaurant. I’m almost giddy with excitement at seeing him for the first time in seven days.
A cold wind blowing down the street bounces snowflakes off us.
“So much for April weather,” I say as I zip my coat tighter. Oh, yeah, that’s another gift that arrived this week while Gabe was in New York. A coat for me, so silvery soft and warm that I almost want to bring it into my blanket cocoon with me. He told me to stop telling him to quit buying me things because he enjoys providing for me. I’m learning to accept with grace but it’s hard when you’ve been fiercely independent your whole life.
“Welcome to Denver,” Pax mutters as he buries his chin in his coat and his hands in his pockets.
But nothing can dim my excitement as we walk the few blocks to the restaurant.
“If I’d known it was going to be this cold I would’ve called for the car,” Pax says with a dramatic shiver.
“Almost there.” It’s just a few blocks and around the corner away. I pick up the pace because Gabe is also just a few blocks and around the corner away. And warmth. But mostly because I can’t wait to see Gabe.
I’m going to tell him I love him tonight. I have it all planned out for when we’re finally alone. I’ve wanted to say it so many times over the past few days, but I wanted to wait until he returned home. No more delaying. No more holding back. I feel like that couple who were married on the red rocks, standing on the precipice of a new life and I can’t wait to get it started.
Traffic is nearly nonexistent because most people were smart and stayed inside on this cold, snowy night. When we stop at a cross walk, Pax shivers and I tighten the straps of my backpack, the weight of my new computer a comfort. I pull my phone out to text Gabe that we’re almost there but before I can open the app, a white catering van draws up to the curb beside us. Pax takes a step back to make room as the side panel door slides open.
Two men dressed all in black, with black balaclavas over their faces jump out and rush us.
“What the hell.” Pax steps in front of me.
One of the men slams his shoulder into Pax’s chest, throwing him backward with a grunt of pain as the other man grabs my arms, yanking them behind my back and holding my wrists so tight that pain shoots through my injured wrist. My phone clatters to the ground.
Pax struggles to remain standing then lunges for me as a third man rounds the front of the van, leveling a gun at Pax.
“Enough,” the man with the gun says calmly.
Pax freezes, slowly raising his hands out to his side, his chest heaving.
“Run, Pax!” I yell.
The gun fires. With a cry, Pax drops to the ground.
“Pax!” I throw my weight forward, toward Pax. The man holding me stumbling forward but tightens his hold, yanking me back.
A blossom of red blood pours from Pax’s leg.
