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Authors: Jane Graves
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Sera’s face, that sweet, beautiful face he wished to God he could see just one more time.
Even in these last moments of life, she was all he could think about, the only woman since Ellen who had stirred something inside him, the one woman who’d made him think about finding again what he’d lost that terrible night three years ago.
It was his last thought before he plunged into darkness.
Gabrio stared down the hillside, feeling the reverberation of the gunshot slice its way right through his heart, echoing forever through the stillness of the night. His breath came in short spurts, and he held it for a moment, trying to get it under control, even as the anguish he felt nearly knocked him to his knees.
“Gabrio,” Ivan said.
Gabrio whipped around and met his brother’s challenging stare. Ivan tossed him a flashlight.
“Go down there and make sure he’s dead.”
Gabrio fought desperately not to let his horror show on his face. No emotion. That was the goal. In his brother’s world, if you felt anything you were weak. You couldn’t even pause. Delay equals fear, and you never show fear.
“What’s the matter, kid?” Enrique said with a mocking grin. “Afraid to touch a dead body? Huh? Afraid his ghost will come back to haunt you or something?”
“He’s not afraid,” Ivan said sharply, then turned to Gabrio. “Are you?”
“Course not,” Gabrio said.
“Go,” Ivan said.
In a daze, Gabrio eased down the hillside, sidestepping protruding rocks, fighting the nausea that welled up in his stomach. He only hoped he could keep from falling to his knees and throwing up.
He came to a halt beside the body, shining his flashlight on the man’s face. Blood. Jesus Christ , there was so much blood, pouring from a wound in his upper chest. And his head. He’d hit his head, and blood was spilling out there, too.
Tears burned in Gabrio’s eyes, and he swiped his eyes with his sleeve, hoping it would just look like he was wiping sweat off his face. The man was still as death.
Crouching down, Gabrio reached out his hand, paused, then rested two fingers beneath Adam’s jawline along the big artery there. He told himself he had to hold them there for only a few seconds, only until he was sure, but the shock of what he felt made his heart lurch.
A pulse.
Mary, Mother of God. He’s still alive.
“Gabrio!” Ivan called out.
His brother’s voice jangled his nerves. His brain grew foggy, and he couldn’t think. He just couldn’t think . All he could do was feel—the terrible burning sensation in the back of his throat, that feeling of horror that slid along every nerve.
If he was going to be loyal to Ivan, he had to go back up that hill and tell him the job wasn’t finished yet. But he knew what would happen then. One more gunshot. Close range. And then it really would be over.
You’re not like them, Gabrio. You don’t have to be like them. Don’t ruin your life.
Gabrio stood up and walked back up the hill. He stopped in front of Ivan, slipped a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it.
“Dead?” Ivan asked.
Gabrio dragged on the cigarette, then blew out the smoke. “Dead.”
Ivan clapped him on the shoulder. His brother’s touch revolted him, almost as much as the pride he saw on his face. Pride.
“Let’s get rid of the body,” Enrique said, starting down the hillside.
Gabrio stepped in front of him. “I’ll do it.”
Enrique laughed. “You? No way, kid. We have to make sure this one isn’t found.”
“He can handle it,” Ivan said sharply. “Can’t you, Gabrio?”
Gabrio’s mouth went dry as dust. “Handle it?” He took a nonchalant drag on his cigarette, hoping they couldn’t see his hands shaking. “Get rid of a body out here in the middle of nowhere? You think I can’t handle a chickenshit job like that?”
“Sure you can,” Ivan said, then turned to glare at Enrique.
Gabrio continued to stare at Enrique with a disdainful expression, forcing himself to not so much
Even in these last moments of life, she was all he could think about, the only woman since Ellen who had stirred something inside him, the one woman who’d made him think about finding again what he’d lost that terrible night three years ago.
It was his last thought before he plunged into darkness.
Gabrio stared down the hillside, feeling the reverberation of the gunshot slice its way right through his heart, echoing forever through the stillness of the night. His breath came in short spurts, and he held it for a moment, trying to get it under control, even as the anguish he felt nearly knocked him to his knees.
“Gabrio,” Ivan said.
Gabrio whipped around and met his brother’s challenging stare. Ivan tossed him a flashlight.
“Go down there and make sure he’s dead.”
Gabrio fought desperately not to let his horror show on his face. No emotion. That was the goal. In his brother’s world, if you felt anything you were weak. You couldn’t even pause. Delay equals fear, and you never show fear.
“What’s the matter, kid?” Enrique said with a mocking grin. “Afraid to touch a dead body? Huh? Afraid his ghost will come back to haunt you or something?”
“He’s not afraid,” Ivan said sharply, then turned to Gabrio. “Are you?”
“Course not,” Gabrio said.
“Go,” Ivan said.
In a daze, Gabrio eased down the hillside, sidestepping protruding rocks, fighting the nausea that welled up in his stomach. He only hoped he could keep from falling to his knees and throwing up.
He came to a halt beside the body, shining his flashlight on the man’s face. Blood. Jesus Christ , there was so much blood, pouring from a wound in his upper chest. And his head. He’d hit his head, and blood was spilling out there, too.
Tears burned in Gabrio’s eyes, and he swiped his eyes with his sleeve, hoping it would just look like he was wiping sweat off his face. The man was still as death.
Crouching down, Gabrio reached out his hand, paused, then rested two fingers beneath Adam’s jawline along the big artery there. He told himself he had to hold them there for only a few seconds, only until he was sure, but the shock of what he felt made his heart lurch.
A pulse.
Mary, Mother of God. He’s still alive.
“Gabrio!” Ivan called out.
His brother’s voice jangled his nerves. His brain grew foggy, and he couldn’t think. He just couldn’t think . All he could do was feel—the terrible burning sensation in the back of his throat, that feeling of horror that slid along every nerve.
If he was going to be loyal to Ivan, he had to go back up that hill and tell him the job wasn’t finished yet. But he knew what would happen then. One more gunshot. Close range. And then it really would be over.
You’re not like them, Gabrio. You don’t have to be like them. Don’t ruin your life.
Gabrio stood up and walked back up the hill. He stopped in front of Ivan, slipped a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it.
“Dead?” Ivan asked.
Gabrio dragged on the cigarette, then blew out the smoke. “Dead.”
Ivan clapped him on the shoulder. His brother’s touch revolted him, almost as much as the pride he saw on his face. Pride.
“Let’s get rid of the body,” Enrique said, starting down the hillside.
Gabrio stepped in front of him. “I’ll do it.”
Enrique laughed. “You? No way, kid. We have to make sure this one isn’t found.”
“He can handle it,” Ivan said sharply. “Can’t you, Gabrio?”
Gabrio’s mouth went dry as dust. “Handle it?” He took a nonchalant drag on his cigarette, hoping they couldn’t see his hands shaking. “Get rid of a body out here in the middle of nowhere? You think I can’t handle a chickenshit job like that?”
“Sure you can,” Ivan said, then turned to glare at Enrique.
Gabrio continued to stare at Enrique with a disdainful expression, forcing himself to not so much
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