“So, what do we do? Where do we go?”
“Not home. Not yet. We’re going somewhere safe,” I say. “Until we can neutralize the threats.”
Erin nods, then her mouth falls open. “My mother… Mallorie…”
“Mallorie is with Arrow—she’s safe. I’ll send someone to get your mother.”
I place another call while scanning the gardens. No one appears to be heading our way—yet.
When I turn back to Erin and her daughter, Paige’s red, swollen eyes drop from my face to the metal in my hand, to the gun that just killed her father. She’s still processing it. She’ll be processing for weeks to come.
For now, I give her a quiet nod and push the gun back into my waistband. I’m getting these two out of here, back to safety, and then…
Then I’ll make sure they never have to see another gun again.
Erin
My heart swells full and hollow all at the same time. It feels like my daughter has broken into a thousand little pieces and I’m holding them all together in my arms, afraid that if I ever let her go, she’ll fall apart.
Augusto paces the room, his gaze occasionally darting to the bodies bleeding out on the wooden floor.
I can smell the blood, thick and metallic, making me nauseous.
“I’m so sorry, Mom,” Paige whispers hoarsely. Her body is shaking so much, there’s a very real chance I might drop her.
I hug her even tighter. “You did nothing wrong, sweetheart. Nothing at all.”
“But I shouldn’t h?—”
“Stop,” I say, softly. “You did nothing wrong. Truly. When we get out of here, we’ll talk. For now, we need to stay alert.”
“What’s going to happen?” she says, hiccupping through the words.
I glance up at Augusto pacing. I hardly know this man. Only two days ago I discovered he’s part of a criminal organization and now I’ve seen him murder four men without a second thought.
I should be terrified of him, but I’m not.
My own husband, goddamnit, had a gun pointed at ourdaughter. If Augusto hadn’t shot him, I’d have killed him myself. I don’t know how, but I’d have made a decent attempt.
I’d have died trying.
“Augusto is going to get us out of here. We just have to be patient—and quiet.”
“Who is he?” she whispers, eyeing him warily.
I try to keep it noncommittal because now isn’t the time nor place to explain the exact nature of our relationship. “I’ve been working for him for a few days.”
“Is it true?” Her words shiver, broken.
I peer down at her tear-sodden face, her eyes red raw, a violent rash where the tape had been. “Is what true?”
“You haven’t been waitressing. You’ve been…” She swallows.
My head suddenly feels light. I didn’t take this job to be an escort as such, but it sure looks like that’s what I’ve been.
“Augusto needed someone to pretend to be his wife for a week,” I say with a sigh. “He offered me good money to do it. So, yes, you’re right, I haven’t been waitressing, but nor have I been selling my body, okay? Augusto has treated me with nothing but respect.”
“Oh—okay,” she says, side-eyeing him again.
