"Here's your chance." Marcus pointed a heavy finger toward the exit. "Walk away."
Nobody moved.
"Or don't."
The threat hung heavy in the air.
After a few agonized seconds, one of Rage’s men slowly bent down and set his weapon on the floor. Then another. Then another. Within moments, the concrete was covered in abandoned steel.
Marcus jerked his head toward the door. "Get the fuck out of my sight."
They didn't need to be told twice. The men filed out one by one, leaving their empire behind.
"Guess loyalty ain't what it used to be. My niggas would have never let that happen," Draeon bragged, slipping his hands into his pockets.
Marcus glared at him, then turned his dark stare to me. "Thank you," he said, his voice rough. He looked pointedly at Draeon, sensing the tension. "You need help with him?"
I shook my head. "I got it from here," I said, knowing that accepting a favor from Marcus Beaumont would only complicate my life later.
He jerked his head at his crew. Two of his men grabbed Rage by her arms and dragged her toward the exit, her heels scraping a long, bloody trail across the concrete. The heavy doors slammed shut behind them.
It was over. Just like that.
I realized I hadn't blinked in probably thirty seconds.
Draeon finally lowered his gun, exhaling a sharp breath. "Well… that was fucking interesting."
I didn't smile. My heart was still racing like a engine. "Go home, Draeon. Tell Daddy whatever lie helps you sleep at night. Tellhim I'm dead. Tell him whatever you have to so he stops looking for me."
He stared at me for a long moment, his cold eyes hardening. Then he let out a low, bitter laugh.
"Eight years on the run and you're right back in front of me, Lola." He shook his head, stepping closer. "You just don't get it. You can't outrun family. Changing your name doesn't change your blood. You're gonna have to take one for the team."
I raised my Glock and pressed the barrel hard against his chest, right over his heart.
"I really ain't."
Draeon looked down at the gun biting into his designer sweater, then back up at my face. Something like respect finally flickered in his eyes.
Chapter Thirty-Three — Jamie
I backed up slowly, keeping the Glock raised. My free hand found the bag on the table behind me. I didn’t look away from Draeon as I reached inside.
My fingers closed around paper.
I pulled out the folded printout and threw it at his chest. It hit him and fluttered to the floor.
“That’s the ledger,” I said. “Every name. Every body. You and Daddy dearest. All of it.”
Draeon didn’t look down.
“The Colombians you want to sell me to?” I kept my voice steady. “Santiago Castaño. I wonder how he’d feel about the fact that you killed his son a week before I was supposed to be shipped off. Hired by the Italians.” I let that sit. “No honor amongst thieves.” I tsked.
Draeon chuckled — that low, chilling sound that used to make me freeze when I was a kid.
I wasn’t a kid anymore.
“You think a piece of paper scares me, little sister?” He shook his head. “That don’t change nothing. You still standing here with a gun and some bullshit names you ain’t gonna use.”
