My mother jerks beside me, flinching at the noise. She’s trembling, quietly sobbing, but I don’t move. I don’t even breathe. I can’t afford to.
Oliver’s eyes are locked on mine. His gun still raised, aimed straight at my face.
I hear the door swing open again. I hear painful grunts, like wounded men being dragged inside the trailer, boots thudding against the floor.
Then—
His voice.
“You can point the gun at me now.” It’s low. Controlled and deadly. “We have business together.”
My heart stutters
Alex.
Oliver rises slowly, gun still trained on me. I want to turn, want to look, want to see him. Is he alone? Did he come with more people? But I can’t risk it. I can feel Oliver’s trigger finger twitching.
Then I hear footsteps. Steady. Getting closer to me.
Even before I smell him, I know it’s Alex.
“Don’t move,” Oliver snarls, stepping closer. “You take one more step, and I’ll paint this trailer with his brains.”
I feel him stop moving.
“Do you not understand English?” Alex says, voice filled with anger. “Point the gun at me, motherfucker, and let’s do business.”
Oliver lets out a soft laugh. But there’s tension in his shoulders now, he shifts, then the gun lifts, swinging away from my face and towards the direction of Alex’s voice.
I exhale, sharp and shallow, like I’ve been underwater this whole time.
I feel Alex step in beside me. Close. The heat of him, the gravity of him, it grounds me. I finally dare to lift my head.
And his eyes are already locked on me.
His face is calm, but his eyes are pure steel. The deadly blue fire that I saw the first night I saw him in that alley.
My chest cracks open.
I don’t mean to, but a sound escapes me. A small, broken sob of relief, and his eyes soften for a split second.
Then his eyes move to Oliver, who is stepping closer now.
“If you move,” Oliver warns, his voice tight as his eyes flick to someone behind me, “I’ll shoot your boss dead.”
I whip my head around—Mike is standing behind one of Oliver’s men, gun pressed firmly to the back of the guy’s skull. The man is grunting, struggling to stay upright, blood leaking from his nose. The other one lies motionless on the ground, definitely not getting back up.
But my heart slams against my chest because Oliver still has the gun on Alex.
And Alex… he doesn’t even flinch.
He stands there, calm as ever, head tilted slightly, those hard eyes locked on Oliver like he’s already decided how this ends.
“So,” Alex says coolly, “how much is this debt, exactly?”
Oliver lets out a tight, false chuckle. “Well, well, well… Didn’t realize he meant this much to you. Guess I hit the jackpot.”
“Don’t waste my time, Oliver.”
