Page 87 of Broken By Silence
The old gunshot wound aches, like it knows he’s close enough to grab her, and I’m still too weak to do anything about it. Lottie sits on the edge of the sofa, knees together, plain black hoodie pulled low.
She looks broken.
There’s a bruise blooming purple just below her collarbone, and I swear I can see his fingerprints marked around her neck from where he choked her. The light catches it when she shifts, and the whole room seems to stop for that single, stupid, ugly second.
I had an ugly, stupid second a few hours ago too… picturing him with his hands on her, picturing how close he got to her. The thought sits in my gut and turns to stone.
This is my fault.
Will paces like a coiled thing,moving from window to doorway and back again. I watch him because he’s the one who canprotect her better than any of us can. He’s the kind of man who makes us look like boys just trying to pretend we’re strong enough to do anything of substance.
Archer is there, too, leaning against the kitchen island with that white-hot look he gets whenever Lottie is threatened. He’s the one who looks like he wants to break things and fix it all before anyone else notices how close she came to getting hurt.
Crew paces in little impatient circles, clearly struggling, muttering under his breath, and clenching his fists. Elijah sits at the table, elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving Lottie, like he can somehow fix everything by being her shadow. Oscar stays close, his hands moving every so often with soothing words to keep our girl grounded.
Claire’s arms are folded, leaning on the doorway like she’s bracing for war. She’s calm in a way that is a different kind of weapon… trained… precise. She watches Lottie the way you watch a live wire.She scares the shit out of me…
I’m on the other side of the room, phone in hand, staring at a screen. I don’t need to call anyone for the truth. I don’t need to call anyone to point the blame. I know where the fault sits…
My father.
Me.
I’m the reason he walked his way back into town with that easy cruelty, more arrogant than ever, more dangerous because somehow he thinks he’s untouchable. If I had just done the job he sent me here to do. If I hadn’t… If I hadn’t let him know she was alive…
I look to Lottie. At her faraway, glassy expression. An expression I saw far too often when I used to torment her… After.
Bile rises in my throat, but I push it down. I don’t get to feel sorry for myself. I did this, and I intend to finish it. For her.
“We don’t wait any longer,” I say before anybody else has the chance. “We don’t wait for him to get bolder. We end it.” My voice is low.
Will doesn’t argue, but he does watch me carefully.
He nods once, but he doesn’t stop moving. The single motion is enough. We all know what needs to happen, but we also know that we need to do it quickly… Ignoring what this new threat means would cost Lottie everything, but we can’t pretend that we aren’t men who don’t belong to certain rules.
Oscar snaps his fingers, gaining everyone’s attention.“If he touches her again, Roman… I’ll kill him myself. We keep her safe. I don’t care if it costs you your life.”
Lottie’s head snaps towards him so sharply, I swear she nearly snaps her neck.“I don’t want anyone dying for me, Oscar. No more death.”
Will coughs. “Lorenzo will not be leaving this town alive. I need you to understand that. Hehurtyou. Not one person here would be against being the one to drive the knife into his heart.”
I look to Lottie. Her eyes are quiet, hooded a little by shock. She’s been through enough to turn the world gray in certain places. She catches my eye, pleading with me, but I shake my head. “I’m sorry, but Will’s right. You are the only one here who matters. If Lorenzo dying means you’ll be safe…” I let my words trail off, scared to tell her how I really feel. Sure, we’ve made progress, and I swear she’s forgiven me a little more, but this?
My first thought is all the crude, useless things men say in moments like this — honor, retribution, safety by way of annihilation. But then I see how her hands are clenched at her sides, how small she looks in that light, and everything inside me narrows to one clean, terrible truth.
I want her to be alive.
I want her to be safe.
Not because I’m noble, not because of any code. Because when I imagine waking up and not seeing her face somewhere in the room, something inside me goes cold with the certainty that I’ll never warm again. I would hand over everything. My fight, my plans, my last breath, if it meant she’d outlive all of us.
“Reyes…” The old nickname for her slips out. “I need you to listen to me. If killing him means you are safe. Means you get to live your life without ever having to look over your shoulder again. I’ll do it. I’ll cut out his fucking heart while his body still pumps blood in his veins, and I will hand it to you as evidence that you are finallyfree.Nothing else matters.Nothing.”
She nods once, almost imperceptibly. She’s still not talking, but she doesn’t need to. I catch something else in the nod… Trust, resignation, the steel we have all built around her.
“Pacheco,” I continue. “We get him to fly out here and sit with us. We make him see that Lorenzo is a liability not just to us, but to the families.”
Will’s jaw tightens. “Where?”
