Fuck it. Doesn’t matter. For now, I’ll shoot first and ask questions later. Those mercenaries put up a hell of a fight, I’ll give them that. But I’ve been in countless scrapes like this, and more often than not, I come out on top.
Handling Trinity does throw a wrench in things, though.
I can’t engage my enemy, watch my six,andbabysit the goods all at once. And how exactly do I keep her alive when she seems hell-bent on getting herself shot?
I rake my fingers through my hair in frustration. I’d like to see Connor attempt this shit.
Connor, the prized son who claims all of Declan’s attention and approval but never has to hold his own in the field likethis.Our father always gives Connor the logistical tasks. The golden boydoes the thinking while I and the rest of the muscle do the dirty work.
Not to say Connor’s weak, just that he doesn’t climb down into the gutter as much.
I jog through a strange mix of residential and commercial properties in Koreatown. Trinity can’t have gotten far with those zip-tied hands, so I guess her direction and hoof it. I need to find her, grab her, and secure her someplace impenetrable in case those mercs aren’t planning to take her alive.
How did such a simple mission—snatch the girl and get her to Declan—becomethis?
A shriek pierces the air, and my blood runs cold.
Trinity.
I whirl in the direction of the noise. Down an alley to my left, I find her cornered by one of the mercenaries. He must be the last man standing.
Without stopping to consider the consequences, I charge. My shoulder jams into the guy milliseconds before he can shoot Trinity straight through the face.
In heavy huffs, we tumble to the ground. Right after I land a single punch, my sparring partner engages his legs and rolls us with the strength of his core into a new fighting position and forcing a grunt out of me.
What is this guy, an MMA fighter?
He uses his whole body to wrestle me into an anaconda choke. Another grunt escapes me as he tightens his hold, my throat straining under the pressure.
The asshole’s strong, his grip powerful enough to constrict my oxygen flow.
In spite of my predicament, I remain calm. Succumbing to fear just gets you dead.
The man squeezes my neck with more force. “Had enough, Superman?”
I cough, black spots blinking into my vision. “Not…quite,” I wheeze.
With every ounce of resistance I possess, I fight to keep my head straight. Meanwhile, dick nozzle here continues attempting to force my skull deeper into the crook of his arm. The prick’s trying to snap my neck.
I manage to stay upright, clawing against his arms until I reach his tucked fingers. Straining from the effort, I wrench them back. Three of his joints dislocate with a definitive snap.
A queasy sort of crackle echoes through the alley, just before the guy releases a strangled, feral cry of pain.
Bingo.
His grip on my neck loosens. Taking advantage of the temporary distraction, I elbow him in the solar plexus, relishing the crunch of bone beneath bone.
Once. Twice. Three times.
He whimpers and retracts his arms altogether, freeing me up to finish the job.
“You like to play head games?” I hook my arm aroundhisthroat this time, channeling all my training, ruthlessness, and determination into this outmatched son of a bitch. “Guess what? So do I.”
Yanking his skull to one side, I snap his neck like a twig. The softcrackunder my hands provides a familiar, satisfying echo.
When his body slackens, I let him slide from my grasp without protest. As I kneel by the warm corpse, I work to catch my breath.
Time to get to know my new dead friend.
