My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 350

Chapter 350

Gianna

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The hot air from the fire rushed out into the parking lot, but the second he reached me, everything felt completely still again. He did not look back at the flames. He kept his eyes locked straight ahead as he placed his palm flat against the small of my back.

His touch was incredibly gentle, a clear contrast to the brutal violence he had just used inside. He guided me slowly across the gas station, walking me away from the heat and toward his parked motorcycle. I walked beside him like a robot, my fingers still locked tightly around the cold plastic slushie cups and the bag of potato chips, my brain completely numb from what I had just seen through the glass window.

When we reached the black bike, Raphael did not get on right away. He let go of my back and reached down to his side, his fingers wrapping around the grip of his glock. He pulled the weapon from his holster.

He stood tall in the middle of the empty gas station lot, his sharp eyes scanning the high metal poles and the corners of the roof.

Bang!

A small surveillance camera attached to the corner of the convenience store roof shattered into pieces, plastic and glass spraying down onto the concrete.

Raphael shifted his feet, his arms perfectly steady as he aimed across the lot toward the main entrance sign.

Bang!

Another camera, hidden right under the plastic awning over the fuel pumps, exploded into a cloud of white dust. He turned his body in a circle, his dark eyes spotting a third camera mounted high up on a pole near the main road. He raised the gun, aligned the sights, and pulled the trigger one more time.

Bang!

The glass lens blew apart, the broken wire dangling uselessly in the wind.

Once every visible camera was completely destroyed, Raphael lowered the gun but did not put it away. He reached into his vest with his left hand, pulled out his phone, and pressed a single button on the screen. He held the phone up to his ear, his face completely expressionless.

“Wipe everything,” Raphael said into the phone, “I want every single trace of my movement gone from the city database for the past twenty-four hours. Delete every camera feed, every traffic loop, and every toll booth record along the outer roads. Everywhere my bike has been, make it disappear completely. Do it now.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his vest pocket.

He walked over to the nearest fuel pump, reached out and grabbed the long rubber hose of the gas nozzle. Instead of putting it back into the machine, he squeezed the handle hard and began pulling it across the ground.

Thick gasoline poured out of the nozzle in a clear stream. Raphael walked in a slow line, dumping the highly flammable liquid all over the concrete, soaking the base of the fuel pumps, and splashing it across the path leading straight to the front doors of the burning store.

He tossed the empty plastic nozzle onto the wet ground. He walked back to the motorcycle, where I was standing perfectly frozen, watching his every move.

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He lifted his heavy handgun one last time. He didn’t look at the store. He didn’t look at the fire inside. He just aimed the barrel straight down at the big puddle of gasoline spreading across the concrete right beneath the fuel pumps.

“Hold on to your food, babe,” he murmured softly.

He pulled the trigger.

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