Page 75 of Primal

“Dream bigger, Fiora. Washington is just one state. Imagine what the arrest of Hector Godwin could do for my name and career. Senator Pollozo has a good ring to it, doesn’t it?”

I laugh. It hurts thanks to my aching throat, but I can’t help it. The thought is ridiculous. Sure, most senators are complete asshats with muddy backgrounds, but murder? That’s a new one.

“You know,” Marco chides, clicking his tongue as he starts stalking toward me again. “It would have been a lot easier if Mason had listened to my proposal.”

Marco’s confession confirms my earlier suspicion. Marco was the one bugging Mason before his death. God, it’s all so obvious now. How could I have missed it?

“Your proposition must have been shit then.”

Marco’s frown is sour, his words laced with heat. “He wanted your father out of the picture just as much as I did. We could have made a good team.”

Does Marco expect me to believe that shit?

“That… that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Aw, does the truth sting, Fiora?”

Marco lunges in my direction, and I yell, taking another step closer to the edge. He laughs and laughs like it’s a funny joke, but my heart beats so hard I feel faint. Fuck. He’s cornering metoward the edge of the parking garage again. Is that his plan? Make me jump? Push me off?

“Don’t you think he was tired being under Daddy’s shadow? You were the coward to run away. He was the one who had to stay and face the man. And we could have made a good team. But your stupid brother refused.” Marco takes on Mason’s baritone when he repeats, “My dad might trust you enough, but I don’t. Get the fuck away from my sister. I know what you’re doing, you pathetic little bitch, and I won’t let you have her.” He scoffs, pointing at me. “You know what I did after that? I went home and asked you for a sexy pic. And you fucking sent me one. You sent me one! So really, who is the pathetic one here?”

Mason knew? Fuck, heknew.He knew Marco was a piece of shit and protected me as long as he could. It wasn’t Papa who denied our relationship, but Mason. And how did I repay him? I ran off to Heathens Hollow without telling anyone.

But that guilt I’ve felt since I learned of my brother’s demise morphs into red hot, blinding anger. What do I have to be guilty for? It’sMarco’sfault Mason is gone. All this time I’ve been blaming myself, and for what? If I attended that game with him, I wouldn’t be here to figure out the truth. Marco would go on a free man, using our murders as a stepping-stone to further his career.

There’s a reason I’m still alive, and it’s to make sure Mason gets his revenge.

Gravel crunches somewhere below us, and when Marco turns to look, I take my chance. I sprint toward the stairs behind me as fast as I can. Freedom is right at my fingertips, but I don’t make it into the stairwell before Marco grips my hair. My scalp screams when he jerks me back, and I collide with his chest with a painful grunt. He wraps his arm around my neck and squeezes so tightly that I choke. I scratch at his arms, flailing and fighting for my life, but it’s no use.

“Oh, come on, Fiora.” His rough voice next to my ear makes me shiver. “I’m trying to have a conversation here.”

“I’m not,” I gasp, clutching onto his sleeve and tugging so I can get some air. My head hurts so badly, and it’s barely enough to breathe, but I’m not dead yet.

“Well, if that’s the case.”

Marco drags me toward the edge of the parking garage, cool autumn wind whipping at my cheeks. God, is this the end for me? It’s a shitty end if so. Thrown off the edge of an abandoned parking garage to rot all weekend before being found. All because I trusted—and frankly loved—the wrong person foryears. Tears burn my eyes, cascading down my cheeks as I stare down death. I always knew death would come for me early, but I’m not ready to die at this asshole’s hand.

“You won’t get away with this,” I try next as my last resort. “My DNA is all over your car.” Under my fingernails and in my pocket, too.

“See, that’s the thing, Fiora. I will. Because I’m not killing you. You’re killing yourself.”

“What?”

Marco jerks me forward, nearly dangling me off the side of the garage. It looks so far down. I’m dizzy with the height and slow supply of oxygen. There isn’t a soft place to land anywhere. It’s all jagged concrete, broken pieces of flooring and piping, and so much gravel. God, it’s going to hurt. Maybe the Devil will have mercy on me and kill me in one go.

“Grief is a very strong emotion,” Marco muses. “Between announcing an engagement you don’t want and losing your brother, it was too tough on you. You couldn’t bear it anymore. I tried to stop you, I really did. But you fought me so hard, I had to pull over here, and by then, it was too late.”

Fuck me, he has the perfect coverup story already. And with no evidence to push back against his bullshit story, he’s going toget away with it. How long has he been planning this? I struggle against him even harder, but his arm only tightens, cutting off my air for good.

“See how easy it is? You should thank me, you know. I saved you from?—”

I don’t know what the fuck he “saved” me from, because his sentence is cut off with a pained grunt. We both go flying to the concrete, and someone elbows me so hard in the stomach I’m breathless. One of my legs hangs off the edge of the parking garage, and I push myself back, gasping and sputtering for breath. My lungs and throat burn, vision fuzzy from the lack of oxygen.

Two shadows roll around on the ground next to me, moving so fast I can’t tell who is who. Is it Braken? Has Braken come for me? When I catch my breath and my eyes focus, I look up to see who it is.

Too late.

The gunshot cuts the air, and warm blood splatters all over my face and neck.