Somehow, he can’t even get that right. If anything, he’s even easier to spot.
He’s talking to someone near the corner of the bar. The other man is tall, broad-shouldered, and lacking a ridiculous disguise. Though he isn’t familiar to me in the slightest.
They keep their heads low, and given the tension in Carlo’s shoulders, they’re talking about something serious.
I’m not close enough to read their lips, but I should be to make this scouting session more productive. I should be cataloging everything and gathering as much information as possible from their meeting.
But, instead, my attention drifts, like it tends to more often than not these days.
Mila is somewhere in this city, and even if that’s an obvious statement, it feels more apparent tonight. Rather thancommon knowledge, it’s like a sensation burrowing beneath my skin, reminding me that she is a far more interesting target.
Even if I normally get my fill of her any other day, something in me is just itching to see her again. I’m half tempted to throw all caution to the wind and track her down right now instead.
But as Carlo shifts his weight on his barstool and glances around the place, my gaze snaps back to him. The other guy nods once, and from my guess, it’s safe to assume they’re agreeing on something.
Letting go of a deep, almost pained breath, I glance away again, finding the whole thing way too dull.
Then, that’s when I see it.
A flash of blonde hair streaks across the street from the other side, moving recklessly through traffic. A few cars honk at the woman as she runs, and a handful of men chase after her.
She stumbles into the open, breathless and frantic as she looks for somewhere to go. Then, she darts ahead, running like something desperate to break free from whatever is trying to hold her down.
I can’t pull my eyes away from the scene, watching as she just manages to keep enough distance between herself and the men. The longer I watch, the deeper my brows furrow.
Then, my heart almost stops.
She cuts left, almost colliding with the rear-end of a parked car before swerving around it and running past mine. I catch her face just in time.
Mila.
At once, everything else ceases to exist. The bar where Carlo and the stranger are doesn’t matter. Whatever plan they’re cooking up means nothing.
Mila’s pale face lingers in my mind, along with the sheer terror in her eyes, more like she’s facing down death itself. That, paired with the reminder that she’s being chased, strikes me all over again.
The others aren’t as subtle as they follow her, not worried about witnesses, as one of them reaches into his jacket. They’re reckless, and I don’t like those implications.
That’s all it takes.
I punch the car into drive and hit the gas, veering into the wide alley, illuminating the dim space with my headlights. The distance crumbles away, and before they can gain on her, I’m already shoving the door open.
A few of the men glance back at me, but it’s already too late.
Gun drawn, I open fire, aiming at the closest ones. The shot muffles between the buildings through my silencer, and even if I’m doing something completely idiotic, I don’t care.
Two of them go down, with another two still chasing after her. Though at the sound of my pursuit, they duck behind a dumpster.
Mila screams before she can stop it, but the sound cuts off as she throws herself against the wall to avoid being hit.
Attention split between her and the two left standing, I rush towards Mila with my gun raised. On the way, one of them goes to shoot, but I beat him to it, firing again and hitting him square in the chest.
The moment he drops, I cut the rest of the distance and grab Mila around the waist, yanking her closer while ducking behind more bins.
A shot rings out, just narrowly missing where her head was just seconds prior.
She gasps, freezing at the contact, but seemingly unsure if she should fight me or give in.
Keeping her pressed tightly against my chest, I turn, firing twice in rapid succession. The first shot misses, only for the second to land the moment he hesitates.
