Page 88 of Amore
A figure stepped into the hall inches in front of me, making me jump. I stopped, my heart pounding.
“Hello, Frankie.”
I backed up a step. “Candace? What are you doing here?”
She pulled a gun from behind her back. “Breaking Luke’s heart like he broke mine.”
Knowing I had seconds to spare before she pulled the trigger, I pulled the pepper spray from my clutch I was still holding and aimed, spraying her in the face. She screamed, grabbing her face as I moved around her and ran straight for the safe room. Closing the door, I secured it and grabbed my phone to dial Luke.
“I’m not—”
“Candace is in the house with a gun!”
26
LUKE
It feltas though I was reliving a nightmare. But this time, instead of seeing a notification of someone entering Frankie’s home, Frankie called me.
I slammed on the brakes of my Mustang, thankful no one was behind me on the Pacific Coast Highway, and did an illegal U-Turn before racing back to our house. No matter how hard I pressed on the gas, it felt like I wasn’t going fast enough.
Frankie told me she was in the safe room, but that didn’t put me at ease because before we hung up, she also said she didn’t know where Amore was. Even though I wasn’t far, it felt as though it took hours to get back to her.
How did Candace get through the security gate? How did she enter the house without the alarm going off? What did she plan to do with the gun? Was she going to kill Frankie? Did she already kill Amore? I knew she was pissed about how everything went down between us but was that enough to commit murder? She was a police officer sworn to protect and serve.
I had half a mind to crash through the iron gate when I got to our neighborhood, but instead, I stopped and nodded at the attendant who knew me well. “There’s a break-in at my house. Police should follow.”
His eyes became large as he nodded. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll let them in.”
I didn’t say another word as I pressed on the gas, tires squealing against the asphalt. I took turn after turn faster than I should, and then finally I was at my house.
After the gates opened, I parked my car in my driveway and left the car running, not willing to waste the seconds it would take to turn it off. Stepping out, I reached into my shoulder holster and pulled out the gun I’d only had a few weeks.
When I got to the door, it was locked, so I used the code and opened it. I immediately saw Candace. We pointed our guns at each other.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I barked.
“Me? What the fuck are you doing?” she questioned. She appeared calm, which I knew was her training kicking in, but how could she be composed when she had a gun pointed at her ex-partner/boyfriend? How was she calm when she was committing a crime?
“Why are you in my house?”
“Because if I can’t have you, she can’t either.”
“You’re talking crazy—”
“Crazy? You think I’m fucking crazy, Luke?” Her eyes widened, and she fired her gun, the bullet slicing through my tux jacket.
Amore came racing down the hall, barking. Candace turned, aimed her gun at my dog, and before she could pull the trigger, I pulled mine, shooting her in her left shoulder. She hissed in pain as she fell to the floor face first. Amore grabbed at her black jeans and tugged with his teeth.
I raced over and put her hands behind her back just as police cars pulled into the driveway.
“You shot me!” she bellowed.
“You threatened my world and shot at me first. You’re lucky I didn’t fucking kill you.”
“You don’t have the balls.”
As the Sheriff’s deputies came through the front door, I whispered into her ear, “I do have the balls, you fucking bitch, but you’ll never see them again.”
