“Five minutes. Not a second longer.” He cups the back of my neck and pulls me in for a swift, hard kiss that sends shivers all the way to my toes. Before he releases my hands, he glares at Martín. “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you myself.”
Martín doesn’t respond other than to step back and stare at his shoes. Adjusting my backpack on my shoulder, I follow him inside.
As soon as the door closes, Martín turns away. His shoulders shake, and I rush over to him. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner. I wanted to.” As I’m about to touch his arm, someone grabs me from behind, a gloved hand clamping over my mouth and nose.
I can’t call for Ronan. Can’t breathe at all, and my heart hammers so hard, it feels like it’s going to burst right out of my chest.
“Scream, shout, or make a single sound louder than a whisper, and Oliver will shred lover boy right through the door,” Theo growls in my ear. He spins me around, and Oliver steps out from behind a wall, an M4 rifle aimed at the front door. “Nod if you understand.”
I jerk my head down once—all the movement I’m capable of with my chest burning from lack of oxygen. Theo’s hands fall away, and I whirl around, sucking in a deep breath and desperately trying to think of some way out of this.
“I’m so sorry, Zephyr,” Martín says, sinking down to his knees. “They showed up as I was about to send you my address.”
“Why didn’t you warn me?” I hiss.
Martín’s eyes water, and Theo pulls out a silenced pistol and presses it to the back of the old man’s neck. “They promised it would be quick. And painless. I’ll see my Laura again.”
The quiet pop makes me jump, and Martín falls, almost in slow motion. Dropping my backpack and kneeling next to him, I cup his cheek. “No. Please, no.” Blood seeps from the wound, so much less than I imagined, and he’s so still.
Tears spill down my cheeks. I’m next. And Ronan? They have no reason to leave him alive. I have to find a way to warn him that doesn’t end with my brother killing him.
Theo jabs my forehead with the still-warm silencer. “You have one chance to save the asshole outside the door,” he says. “Come quietly, and he can live. We don’twanta shootout in the middle of the day. But if you don’t cooperate, we’re prepared for one.”
Her main weakness is family
Dante was right. I know what will happen to me if I let Theo and Oliver take me. I’ll end up in a small, dark place until they’re ready to break me. Until François exacts his revenge for every imagined wrong, for mydisloyalty, for all the trouble I’ve caused the cartel over the last four years. But my fear of what they’ll do to me? It’s nothing compared to the pain I’ll feel if they kill Ronan.
“We all leave together,” I say quietly. “Through the back door. Oliver first so I know he’s not waiting behind to kill Ronan anyway. You put a single hand on me before we’re at least a block away from here, and I’ll scream so loud and long, the cops will hear it two states over.”
I’m still on my knees, my hands clasped in my lap, and I slide my father’s ring off my thumb. I need to know Ronan will have something of me when I’m gone.
“Deal. Now get up.”
Bracing my hands on the floor, I lean down and kiss Martín’s cheek. “I hope you’re at peace, my old friend. I forgive you.” The ring tucks just under his arm, and I get to my feet.
“Put these on.” Theo holds out a pair of flexi-cuffs, and I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes.
“You going to walk me down the street in these and expect no one will notice?”
Shoving his gun into a shoulder harness under his jacket, he snorts. “Of course not. You’re going to pick up that coat on the back of the couch and use it to hide the cuffs. Quit being a smartass or our deal’s off.”
I have to use my teeth to tighten the second cuff and try to give myself a little bit of slack, but Theo checks them before he gives the order to move and tightens them to the point I’m scared I’ll lose all feeling in my hands before we make it to their vehicle.
With the coat draped over my wrists, I follow Oliver out the kitchen door, Theo right on my heels, my backpack slung over his shoulder.
Snow falls steadily, and my cheeks prickle with the cold. Has it been five minutes yet? Has Ronan knocked? Burst in? Found Martín’s body?
No one says a word—or stops—until we’re just over a block from Martín’s house next to an older model black sedan. Theo pops the trunk, and I try to back away. “No. Not in there. I’ll go anywhere you want. I won’t put up a fight. But don’t put me in there.”
“Relax, bitch,” he says, pulling a small, zippered pouch from his jacket pocket. “You won’t be awake long enough to care.”
Oliver slings an arm around my shoulders, looking to anyone watching like he’s the friendliest guy in the world, but his grip is tight enough to hurt, and he has me wedged against the back of the car with Theo right in front of me.
The syringe glints in the streetlights, and my whole body shakes. “No. Not like this. Oliver, please. We’re family. Don’t you remember the years…before?”
Theo jabs the needle into my neck and presses down on the plunger. I want to scream, but terror has me frozen, my heart racing. What did he give me? How long will it take?
“We’re not family,” Oliver says sharply. “We stopped being family the day you got Jessica killed.”
