Kill Our Way to Heaven | Book II

21 // rescue me

𝘈𝘯𝘢𝘺𝘢

Everything is happening all at once. The arrest of Charlize, the arrest of the two most dangerous criminals on the east coast—and probably the world—and the fate of her relationship hanging on by a thread. It's enough to drive anyone to the edge and it's no surprise that Anaya is struggling to keep calm in the wee hours of the morning. 

Stumbling into her suite, Anaya's mind focuses on packing her stuff and getting out of the Romano Hotel as soon as humanly possible. She doesn't want to stay here. She doesn't want to be associated with Sandro. But her thoughts come to an immediate stop when she spots Emilio lounging on the couch, an episode of Breaking Bad illuminating the room.

The blue-eyed man turns to face Anaya before sitting in an upright position. "So..." he starts, wary of Anaya's reaction to tonight's whirlwind event. "How'd it go? I was watching the news and there's nothing about the arrests."

Anaya leans against the wall as she removes her boots. Folding the sleeves of her linen shirt, she enters the kitchen to wash her hands. "There won't be anything on the news until the 8 am show. The feds are keeping it under wraps until they've cleared the docks."

Emilio walks over to Anaya with a small frown. Leaning on the breakfast bar, he watches her as she scrubs her hands. "Are you okay?"

Anaya looks up at him with an incredulous look. "Of course, I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

The dark-haired man scrutinizes Anaya. She isn't her normal self; he can see that. Leaning against the counter for support as she furiously swallows her water is enough to tell him that she isn't sober. He doesn't say anything else, choosing to observe in silence instead.

Anaya exits the kitchen, her heart beating erratically as various emotions course through her. She knows she needs to leave, but is now a good time? Whether Sandro is here or not, it will never be easy. And she can't stay if she feels this way about their relationship—about Sandro.

How could she be this naïve?

Anaya frowns, shaking her head as she pulls her suitcase out of the closet before chucking her clothes in it. She wants to slam her head against the wall for being so stupid.

Sandro is no different than Danni. They're made from the same material, just different finished products.

Overcome with emotion, Anaya takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. Hunched over, she stares at the haphazard suitcase. Then her eyes glide across the room—the same room she's been sleeping in for months because she couldn't stay in Miami. The same room where she shared her most intimate moments with Sandro. The same room where she felt safe and protected because she knew Sandro wouldn't let anything happen to her.

The room blurs as Anaya sniffles. She can't think about Sandro this way, right? Just because he does bad things doesn't mean he's a bad person. She knows how good he could be.

But do you know the sins he's committed?

Anaya shakes her head, sighing as she furiously wipes her tears away with the back of her hand. She can hear the soft dialogue pour from the TV, for which she's thankful for. She knows she didn't do a good job at convincing Emilio that she's okay, but she appreciates that he's left her alone.

Chucking her toiletries in her travel bag, Anaya pushes her hair back, blinking the tears away as she scours the bedroom for anything else she may need. She's packed her favorite hoodie and pajamas, a few t-shirts and pants that she can make different outfits with—it's enough for her to last a few days. It's enough to give her some time to gather herself and come up with a plan—a plan to tell Sandro that they're over, a plan to tell herself that she'll be okay.