The shorter guy kills the space between us and roughly manhandles me to an upright position. My hood is dragged down, my chest pushed into the wall, and the gun ripped out of my hand.
Fuck him, I have more where that came from.
I twist my head around to see what they’re up to, watching the whites of their eyes light up when a flash of lightning strikes.
“We’ve got the girl,” the guy who entered first speaks into a microphone concealed within his sleeve at the underside of his wrist. “There’s no one else with her.” He pauses for a beat, presumably listening. “Souza isn’t here. None of them are. I’ll bring her now.”
As he finishes, ruthless fingers dive into my hair, dragging me a few steps.
“Get off me!” I’m about to reach under my hoodie when a muffled sneeze stops them in their tracks––and me.
Leo!
Both men scan the room. Cold steel jams against my temple. “Who else is in here?”
“Must be a ghost.” I grit out, stooped over. “I’m alone. Take a look.”
The guy who’s not ripping my hair out at the roots wanders over to the bed and shoots a bullet into the mattress. Backing up, he walks the length of the room, getting closer to the secret panel in the wall.
While they’re preoccupied, I reach for the gun under my hoodie, twist into my captor, and fire off two bullets. One to the gut, and when he doubles over, a second in his throat.
Warm spatters pelt my face. Yet I don’t feel an ounce of remorse when he slumps to the floor, his blood darkening the carpet like spilled ink. But my heart stutters when I look up to where the other guy had stood only seconds ago. He’s not there anymore.
No, he’s behind me now, cuffing my neck with the crook of his arm and squeezing. While I choke and squirm, he grabs the weapon in my hand and tries to win possession of it.
Adrenaline kicks in and I refuse to let go, but I’m starting to feel lightheaded. My lungs are desperate for oxygen.
Flailing at first, I take a beat to think on my feet and blindly reach for the blade in my pocket.
Finally, my fingers find it. I press the button and feel the blade pop out. It doesn’t take me long to stab his thigh and almost grin when he roars from the pain.
But the fucker doesn’t let go, tightening his vice-like grip on my neck instead. This time, I aim for the bicep locked next to my jaw and slash downwards.
His arm immediately loosens, giving me space to lurch forward, coughing and spluttering. I spin around to face him, the bloodied dagger ready, but I’m met with a harsh slap from the back of his hand.
The fast crack across my jaw causes my head to jerk sideways and black spots pop in my vision, appearing everywhere.
“Try that again and you’re dead, bitch,” he snarls, glancing at the knife wound, his nostrils flaring. “We only need you alive long enough for bait. After that, you’re worthless. Or maybe it wouldn’t matter if you died now.”
Bait?
These men are here for Giovanni.
And Carlos Blanco is the only one who knows who I am to the Souzas.
“You’re working for Blanco, aren’t you!” I try to inch away, rubbing my throat and inhaling in bursts.
He stares at me, his face hidden except for the blatant malice in his slit-like eyes. “Shut the fuck up and drop the blade.”
“I’m not scared of you, motherfucker.” I straighten, glaring up at him defiantly. “You’re nothing more than a dead fuck standing. And when he finds you—”
His fingers tighten around his gun, and he steps into me, pushing it deep into my ribs. “Drop it.”
Letting it thud at my feet, I square up to him. “I don’t need a weapon. I can gouge your eyeballs out with my thumbs.”
“Not if I break all the bones in your hands.”
I laugh, forcing courage. “Keep on thinking you’re on the right side of this war. When your heartbeat goes weak and your lungs collapse, all you’ll feel is regret. Regret that you picked a fight with the wrong man.”
