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Authors: Michelle M. Watson

BOOK: Pure Illusion
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Chapter forty-nine

The Truth

 

 

I’m
splashed with a bucket of ice-cold water. Chilly droplets leak from my hair and
cling to my lashes. My eyes slowly flutter open.

What?

Where
am I?

Dark
lilac eyes stare at me through steel bars. My body is hunched forward and
cramped. I try to shake the wooziness away and focus on my blurry vision, but
the thick cloud of unconsciousness blankets my brain and threatens to pull me
back under.

I
nod back off.

“Gamila,
wake up.” A soft voice urges me from unrelenting slumber. “Wake up, Gamila.
You’re not finished yet.”

I
fight hard against the sleep. The water soaks through my gown, now I’m chilled
to the bone. I blink a few times, glancing around, confused.

“Why
am I in a cage?”

The
violet eyes sparkle at me. “This isn’t just any cage, Gamila. It’s the same
cage that your beloved Hunter suffered in. Isn’t that right, Hunter?”

Soberness
never occurs so quickly to me in my life. Gasping, I stare at the eyes that are
looking back at Hunter.
I told you so
,
they yell at me. Hunter sits in a wooden chair with a taped dirty rag used as a
gag for his mouth. His ankles are restrained in rope that’s wound around the
legs of the chair. His hands are cuffed behind the back of the chair. His clear
blue eyes are wide and he’s staring right at me in rage, in mock. His gaze is
extremely transparent. It makes me sick with guilt. My heart plummets into my
stomach when I notice Max bound in the exact way in the next chair that’s
back-to-back to Hunter’s. Max has blood running down the side of his right
temple and he’s out cold.

“You
took my son away from me, Gamila.”

“Mr.
Gabai. What are you doing?”

“Killing
all of you soon, but first you must know why, yes?”

My
lips begin to tremble. “Mr. Gabai. Please. Don’t-don’t do this.
Please
.”

“Shh, Gamila.
Your beloved
Hunter came straight to me when I informed him that I had you. No hesitation.
There is no limit in which he loves you, Gamila. It was a trap, of course. But
I don’t think that mattered much to him. I can see and appreciate the type of
man he is—strong and unyielding. My boy is very different from him. Max is
strong and unyielding in such a humbling way that you will not recognize his
love until your helplessly drowning in it.” He stands, dusting his hands on the
back of his black slacks. He strokes Max’s hair a few times, tenderly kisses
the top of his slanted head. “I love my son, but he must completely understand
with absolute clarity what happens when he disobeys me. I am where his loyalty
should lie. Not you, Gamila. But I do acknowledge the powerful influence love
can have over someone.” He pauses and flops down in another wooden chair in the
corner of the barn. He shoves a frustrated hand through his thick hair.

“Why
are you doing this?” I say in a broken whisper, staring at a powerless Hunter
and Max.

“Grace
if you must know. I love her more than my life.”

Oh.

My.

God.

Omar
is insanely delusional like Smith was about my mother.

“Like
I said, I do acknowledge the powerful influence love can have over someone. I
did push your brother off the bridge. It was storming and I took the
opportunity.” He scratches a thick brow and sags in his seat. “What can I say,
I’m an opportunist.”

“Did
you
push
me off the cliff too?”

He
simply nods as he reaches back to massage the nape of his neck. “You are a
warrior, Isabel. I’ll give you that. You don’t go down so easily.”

I
stifle the burning vomit that threatens to spew at the back of my throat. “But
why did you hide that tape that has Hunter on the bridge with my brother?”

“I
wasn’t exactly concealing anything. Max was trying to be undetectable, snooping
around my office and buildings, inquiring my employees about where all the
security footage is stored. I knew precisely what he was looking for. So put in
an obvious place he would surely check.” He inclines forward, rest his elbows
on his knees, staring me in the eyes. “But the most tragic part is that you
didn’t give your beloved Hunter the benefit of doubt. You truly thought that he
was capable of killing your little brother. Though he is indeed dark, that boy
does not have the strength to betray his Isabel—it’s simply is not in his
nature. But you thought otherwise, didn’t you, Gamila? Perhaps, that’s the
biggest treachery and most fatal flaw of all. ”

The
rumble in my stomach grows. Vomit fights its way from my mouth. The vile ejects
everywhere, searing my throat in the process. I close my eyes, focusing on
breathing.

“When
you saw the footage, did a minuscule thought of doubt ever enter your head? Did
it ever occur to you that it was the same bridge but different night? Well, I
did alter the tape so well that it appeared that Hunter tossed young Tyler off
the ledge. Hunter did nothing of the sort. In fact, he was trying to persuade
Tyler to leave Cherry Creek before it was too late. Your brother, he was
immensely bright. Tyler figured out everything with the help of Taylor. But he
refused to listen to Hunter, that’s when Hunter got a little rough with him. He
only yanked on his coat, but quickly let go after that. They both went their
separate ways. Tyler lived to breathe another night…until I came along. It was
raining very hard that night—”

“Grace—she
doesn’t love you,” I interrupt him. I can’t stand to hear the gruesome details
of Tyler’s death.

He
immediately straightens his spine, gaze growing darker. “She wouldn’t have had
my child if she didn’t love me.”

“What?”
I choke.

“Rex.
The lighter hair.
The blue eyes.
Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

“Rex
is-is Grace’s son?”

He
gives his head slight nod.

Max
makes a muffled sound. Both our eyes dart to him. His expression is alarmed.

How
long has he been up?

“Welcome
back son.” Omar stands and grabs a large plastic jug, popping the cap off. “Let
the show begin.” He strolls over to me, dumping the clear contents over my
head.

I’m
drenched with gasoline.

The
pungent odor is undeniable.

“Now
you must make the hardest decision yet, Isabel.” He pulls a gun from the back
of his pants and carelessly sways it between the two. “Which one dies first?”
He shoves the muzzle of the pistol against Hunter’s head. “Will it be your
longtime love, Hunter Knight? The one you loved before you were old enough to
understand what it meant.” Hunter eyes are solely focused on me. His gaze never
wavers. Then Omar shifts it to Max’s head without an ounce of remorse. Omar is
definitely a PSYCHOPATH. “Or, will it be the man of your dreams. The one you
saw yourself contentedly growing old with.”

I
squeeze my eyes shut. The acerbic aroma of puke fills my nostrils.
I think
I’m going to pass out.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

“Choose,
Isabel. If you don’t, I’ll kill you first. They will suffer more that way.”

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Keeping
my eyes close, I reach out and grab the chilly steel bars with my hands. I
can’t choose between them, especially which one gets murdered first. “Rot in
hell, Omar.”

“Wrong choice.”
There’s a
sickening BOOM! A deafening ringing follows.

My
eyes fly open. Rex stands inside the entrance of the shed door, eyes wide and
petrified with a gun hanging limply in his hand.

Omar’s
left leg is bleeding and has a gaping hole where his knee used to be. He’s
crawling towards the gun that’s flung by me. With shaky hands, I reach between
the spaces of the bars and yank it from the ground.

Taylor
cuts Hunter and Max free.

Accepting
defeat, Omar digs in his pockets and tosses a small metallic key at Taylor. It
skids across the panels of the wooden floor, stopping at Hunter’s foot. He
picks it up, unlocking the cage door.

The
center of my universe shifts. I no longer see Hunter holding Max back, Rex’s
tears streaming down his cheeks, or Taylor urging me on with her direct gaze.

They
all fade away.

The
only sound I hear is the steady rhythm of my heart that leads me to my ultimate
destiny.   

It’s
just Omar and I in this moment. He smiles at me as I make my way to him,
unafraid and…grateful. The gun is smooth metal in my hand, feels as light as
feather in this moment.

Beautiful.

Squatting
next to him, I desperately search his face for something.

There’s
nothing.

Not
even pain.

With
every ounce of concentration, I peer into the depths of his eyes.

They
mock me.

My
index finger curls around the loop of the trigger as I press the muzzle of the gun
to his chest, over his heart. I ease the trigger back, in no hurry. “Tyler, he
never begged for his life. I never thought the Angel of Death would be as
beautiful, Gamila.”

Keep
both your eyes open, baby girl.
My father said to me.

You
want to be able to see what you’re doing
.

Unblinking,
I push back the trigger.

I
swear I can hear the bullet tear and rip its way through his heart.

I’m
so sorry, Tyler.

You
can rest now.

Swiftly
standing, I empty the entire magazine until there are no more bullets left to
shoot. Only then am I able to breathe.

The
gun falls to the ground with a hollow thud.

Max
and Hunter drags Omar’s lifeless corpse from the barn. Taylor wraps a
supportive hand around my back, leading me out.

Hunter
asks Rex something. Rex nods, swipes his nose with his hand and rummages in his
tux jacket. He throws something that glints silver at Hunter. Hunter flicks it
until a bright flame appears.

I
watch my dragon set our enemies on fire.     

Epilogue

New Year

 

 

 

“They
are still out there,” Harmony says, peeking out the blinds of my house. “Don’t
they have anything better to do?”

“Yeah,
that’s a lot of press,” Falcon adds, looking out the window next her.

Our
small southern town has made world news because of my “mercilessly tragic yet
beautiful” story. After a thorough investigation, Omar’s death was ruled as
self-defense.

There
were no court dates.

No
lawyers.

No
judges…Just our statements of all the events that occurred.

Our
statements didn’t exactly reveal the truth of what transpired that night.

In
our version, Max bursts through the barn door and saves the day.

He
kills his father for the woman he loves.

It
was originally Hunter’s idea that Max should take the blame.

Hunter
assured us it would “look better” that way.

What
a hero.

“This
is the part where you guys help me blow my candles out,” I say, staring down at
the sparkling flames of my massive blue and yellow birthday cake that’s
perfectly lit with twenty-one candles.

“I
have a surprise call for you,” Taylor says, holding her cell out towards me.
“Ya’ll are on speaker.”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
Naya and Hero
say simultaneously.

It’s
all-too-soon when moisture hits my eyes. “Thank you.” Mr. Knight has them in an
undisclosed location, keeping them far, far away from Grace. No one has seen
her since our town’s “little secret” news broke and went international. Now
Grace is world-famous for reason I’m sure she would rather not say. She didn’t
have any involvement with Tyler’s murder or plotting our deaths. That’s what
her well-paid lawyers said. I don’t know if she did or not.

Evil
is evil.

A
hand runs down the length of my hair, softy pressing into my back. I cock my
head to see loving lavender gazing down at me. Max gives me a tender smile.
“Make a wish, Pumpkin.” I glance around the table at all my friends’ joyous
faces. I don’t know if it’s the soft flickering candlelight in my dim kitchen
or the fact that it is New Years, but something about this moment seems magical
and enchanted. An aching disappointment dampens my cheerful mood though.

One
person would make me feel better.

Hunter.

If
only he were here.

Smiling
to the best of my ability, I close my eyes and lean forward. The heat from the
flames is pleasant and warms my face.

I
don’t wish for eternal happiness or anything silly like that; I wish for just
enough, enough of love to get me through my darker days, enough of support to
keep me balance when I feel uprooted and shaky, enough of patience and
understanding when I feel vulnerable and lash out.

Just enough.

A
quiet hush and a definite stillness falls over my small crowd like a thick
shroud. Taking a deep inhale and expanding my lungs to the maximum limit, I
blow out all my candles. Only when I breathe in the wisps of smoke, melted
candle wax, and sweet buttercream frosting do I open my eyes. I love that
smell. I want to experience more of that birthday aroma.

My
brows furrow, everyone is staring in awe and amazement, and I’m not the center
of their attention. My eyes follow the source of all the excitement. For a moment,
I completely forget how to breathe. Max is on bended knee beside me. His face
is the softest I’ve ever seen, and his eyes…they’re glistening with tears. My
eyes slide to his outreached hand that holds a small red velvet box with the
lid up. Tears make the sparkling octagon-shaped diamond blurry.

Max
takes my hand in his free one, giving my fingers a tight squeeze. “Isabel
Waters, what the hell can I say at this point?” He grins and everyone chuckles
softly. “You lit a flame inside of me that changed my life forever. I want my
forever with you. I promise to make sure you understand that you are loved and
appreciated every day. I promise to make you feel secure and safe. I promise to
make life worth living. I promise to be your foundation and the man that never
lets you down. But before all that, I need you to make a promise of your own.
Marry me, Pumpkin?”

 I
jump out my seat and slam myself into Max. He is not prepared for my reaction.
The impact knocks us both to the floor. I land on top of him, laughing and
frantically kissing all over his face.

“Is
that a ‘yes’?” he laughs, gently stroking the line of my spine.

“Say
yes, dummy!” That’s Harmony in the background.

“If
you don’t, I will!” That’s Vic.

“Will
you two show-stealing queens shut it
already.
Let Izzy
have her moment.” That’s Falcon.

Staring
into his shimmering eyes, a new discovery is found. I found what desire really
is: Max Gabai.
My Hero Husband.
Everything I always
wished for but never received. Here he is, living, breathing, and asking me to
marry him.

How
could a girl say no?

He
wipes at me tears and I dab at his.
“Yes, Max-pie.
I’ll marry you.”

The
room erupts into cheers and applauses as we seal it with a passionate kiss that
makes my head heady. This will be a moment that I will hold onto and replay in
my mind when misery wants to keep me in its grasp.

 

 

***

 

 

 

Two
weeks later

 

 

I
roll the platinum rings around inside my hand. I got them for Hunter. I haven’t
seen him since the night of the fire. He never showed to tell me happy birthday
or congratulations. I didn’t expect he would, but a large and hopeful part of
me still had faith he would not miss something as important. Now I swing on my
old tire swing under the shadowy canopy of the willow tree that brought so much
bliss to me. The moon is bright and full tonight…

There’s
that familiar tightening and burning of my muscles. Every part of me is
hyperaware when he’s around. My feet drag in the dirt as the swing is pulled
back from its swaying motion. “I thought you forgot about me,” I whisper to the
moon.

“Never.
How can I
forget about you when I dream of you with my eyes wide open?”

I
force myself swallow. “Hunter,” I breathe. “Where were you?”

“Busy.
You’ve missed me.” Not a question, just an obvious statement.

“Still
arrogant I see.”

“Still
blinded I see.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

I
push my way out the loop to look at him. His absurd beauty is hidden well
within the pale light of the moon, and he’s dressed in usual hoodie and jeans,
hair untamed and everywhere.

His
eyes are solely focused on my face. “Can we dance for a bit?”

My
cheeks lift as I smile.
“Dance?”

He
shrugs. “It only seems right.”

Then
he opens his arms. It’s like I have no choice in the matter when I snuggle into
him, getting as close as I possibly can. I’m instantly stunned by the deluge of
scorching hot memoires.  I have missed this…missed him. We sway in a slow
and steady tempo of his heartbeat. “Humor me with a short game, okay?”

Clutching
the rings in my palm, I nod.

“What
if I told you that your lips were made only to be kissed by me?”

My
heart rate quickens. “Hunter, what kind of game is this?”

He
gives me squeeze. “Just humor me, Isabel.”

“What
if I told you that I’m happy now?”

“What
if I told you that I’m too selfish to care?”

My
breath catches in my throat. I can’t play this
game
anymore.

“What
if I told you that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to have you to myself
again?”

Leaning
back, I tip my head up. “Even breaking my heart?”

He
grins.

Smug
brat
!

“Even breaking your pretty little heart
all over again.”

How
can he actually say that with a straight face?

Are
we still playing?

Hunter
keeps it going. “What if I told you that you belong with me and I’m willing to
sabotage your future with him just to have you in my bed at night?”

The
blood drains my face. “Hunter, stop. I don’t want to play anymore.”

He
studies me with solemn intensity that only Hunter Knight is capable of
performing in such way I feel like my core is splitting and cracking under the
pressure of his stare. He holds me at arm’s length, smirking conceitedly.

“I
have a Christmas gift for you,” I whisper, looking down at my balled up fist.

He
releases me.
“Really?
I feel bad. I didn’t get you
anything.”

“Don’t
worry about it. Here…,” I lift my trembling fingers and dump the thin bands of
platinum in his hands.

“Rings?”
He sounds
confused.

I
glance up at him and smile. “They’re for your thumb. Read them.”

His
eyes squints at each elegant engrave in each ring as he places all three bands
around his left thumb.
“Three little angels.”
Hunter’s
expression is suddenly indecipherable. He takes a step back.

“For
the babies,” I whisper, feeling unshed tears burn my eyes.

“Isabel,”
Max calls. I look around Hunter and see Max’s silhouette leaning against the
frame of the front doorway of my house with Birthday tucked in his arm. “Our
dehydrated marshmallows are getting cold.”

Oh.

Right.

Lucky Charms and movies tonight.

I
take in deep breath and nod. My eyes revert to Hunter. He stares at the
glinting rings on his thumb. “You don’t have to be happy, Hunter. Just
be
enough.” Without another word, I sidestep him and run up
to Max, to my future, to my enough.

 

END OF BOOK ONE

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