CHAPTERTWO
ISABELLE
My heartbeat pounds in my ears. Throat tightens to a pinhole. My chest feels like it’s trapped under a weighted blanket and my eyes are bulging out of my head.
Sergio drops back behind his unknown friend, hiding in his shadow. I step to the side to get him back into my line of sight, the only hope for escape from this confrontation being a plea to the man I’ve known for so many years.
Beg for my life. Beg for the girl.
I’m out of my depth. Laundering money isn’t in the same league as whatever this is. Trafficking? Kidnap?
“No, no, no, no, no,” the girl screams, grabbing hold of my leg. Good point, sweetie, but I’m out of options. I should have told her to run, but everything’s happening so quickly that I’ve missed the opportunity.
The man ahead of Sergio towers above me. At five foot nothing, I have to crane my neck to see his face. Even in the dim light, I can see the scowl. The narrowed eyes. The thin lips. My gaze bounces away, then returns. Whatever brand of nasty he is, he’s the one in charge. He’s who I have to deal with.
“Give me the girl,” he orders, his voice high-pitched for his size. The thready sound of it gives me hope. This man might be as far out of his depth as me.
“Just let us go.” I lick my lips, but the spit in my mouth has dried so much that it does no good. “No one needs to get hurt.”
A car engine backfires a street over and I jump. There’s the distant sound of a train crossing dinging its warning to the local road users. The man in front of me draws his thumb across his lower lip, then the scowl turns into a sneer. “No one but you, lady. Now hand her over.”
“No.”
He leans to the side and pulls out a fake smile that sends a bolt of ice straight to my heart.
“Come on, honey. Let’s get you back inside and I’ll give you an ice cream.”
She moves farther behind me, cutting off his direct view. “No.” Her scream is so loud in my ear that my eyes water. “No.”
The man isn’t used to the word. I guess it’s been a long time since he heard it. He lunges forward, grabbing for her, fingers twisting into the meat of her upper arm. They sink so deep it must be excruciating.
She’s a child. Who would hurt such a small child?
I bring the heel of the skate down on his arm, the force stymied by the strange angle. When he snatches his arm away, I stumble back a step, pushing the girl farther behind me, out of his reach.
I don’t expect to make it out of here. The moment I unlocked that door, I signed my death warrant.
But fuck me if I’m going to go down without a fight.
He lunges again just like I knew he would, and I swing the skates. Hard as I can. Across his face.
The blow lands with such force, it judders up my arm, the pain lost under the reward of his bellow of agony.
The gangster stares at me. Blood spills from his mouth and nose, and I feel a savage joy.
My next blow is weaker, swiping in the opposite direction.
He lunges again, face twisted in fury. I lurch as I try to dodge him, and my bad ankle shoots needles into my groin.
One hit left. Then he’ll be on me.
Better make it count.
I swing as hard as I can, and he jerks his head upwards, so the blow swipes across his neck instead of his face. The blade, less than half a centimetre thick, slices through his skin, catching on the harder material of his windpipe. My wrist twists and I drop the weapon, a cry catching in my throat.
For a second, everything freezes in place.
Then an arterial spurt of blood explodes from his neck, spraying five metres into the sky. Drops patter down, coating us in gory rain.
