Decisions that led her to me.
I clench my jaw, a wave of guilt washing over me. Knowing what Linnea's been through only makes my actions seem more despicable. But I push those thoughts aside. There's no time for self-loathing now. I need to focus on getting her out of this mess.
And I will.
I parked a couple of streets away, worried my luxury vehicle would draw attention to me, even in a neighborhood like this, and now, dressed all in black, I’ve melted into the shadows. But I’m not the only predator here.
The others simply aren’t as invisible as me, but they’ve had a head start.
The darkness of the house is designed to imply it's empty, but I know it’s not. The flashlight function of a cell phone, bouncing through the open curtains, gives away any hope of stealth.
Then the curtains are closed, but it’s too late. They ‘ve already been seen.
As much as I want to charge in, I hold back, needing to know what I’m up against before I act rashly, no matter how my gut is telling me to storm in there and protect my woman.
Because yeah, she is my woman.
My muscles tense as I survey the house, waiting for any sign of movement. The night is eerily quiet, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the gusty breeze. I press myself against a nearby tree, using its bulk to conceal my presence.
I count three men in total. One’s just a boy, a lookout, and I discount him immediately. He’ll probably run at the first sign of trouble.
Then there’s the guy in the car opposite the house, idly waiting for the all clear.
That just leaves Florian Marcel. Better known on the streets as Reggie. Knowing what I do about the people he hangs with, I’m not surprised he changed it. I bet he got bullied as a kid, and that’s what turned him into the mean little thug he is today.
Tonight, he finds out he should have made better choices.
We all have that option.
I make my move swiftly and silently, creeping towards the house. Despite my clean facade as a wealthy businessman, years of experience in my misspent youth have taught me how to blend into the shadows. As I approach, I can hear muffled voices from inside - angry, threatening tones that make my blood boil.
My little Juno is in there. I know her real name is Linnea, but in my soul, I’ll always think of her as Juno.
And right now, she's in danger.
I push down the possessive thoughts and focus on the task at hand. There's no time for emotions now. I need to be cold, calculating, and efficient.
The back door’s unlocked. What the hell were you thinking, sweetheart? A fast getaway, probably, but it’s backfired. Within seconds, I'm inside the darkened kitchen. I pause, letting my eyes adjust, straining my ears for any sound of movement.
In what I’m guessing is the living room, I make out Reggie's stupid fake cockney accent, dripping with menace.
“I want the money, bitch! Don't make me ask again."
I clench my fists, my fury rising, but I force myself to stay put, to assess the situation before charging in.
“I have two more weeks,” Linnea replies, a forced bravado in her voice. “That was the agreement.”
“Agreements change,” he tells her with an unpleasant laugh. “And since you humiliated me this afternoon, it’s time to pay.”
"That’s not fair," I hear Linnea plead, her voice trembling. "I need that time.”
“Life ain’t fair, sweet cheeks, and unless you want mama here to sustain some life-altering injuries, you’re going to give me a little taste of what you can offer the boys who are gonna want a piece of you. I’m gonna check out the goods, as it were. Unless you want me to start removing pieces of mama!” he snarls.
A muffled cry pierces the silence, and I know I’ve run out of time. It wasn’t Linnea's voice, but I understand her mother is being used to intimidate her.
I don't bother with subtlety now, rather I'm banking on the element of surprise to provide me an edge. With a powerful kick, I burst through the door, taking in the situation in seconds, but not letting anything slow me down. The living room shows clear signs of a struggle, and it’s about to get worse.
Without hesitation, I charge forward, rage flooding through me, the likes of which I haven’t felt since I was a poor kid hustling on the streets. Tackling the wannabe mobster, we crash to the floor in a tangle of limbs. I hear Linnea gasp, but I need to keep my focus trained on this little upstart asshole, even though all I want to do is check she’s alright.
