Page 93 of Abundance of Obsession

Ricardo finally approaches them, though his gaze is still scanning everything. He hands Damien something small. A note, maybe? I don’t know, but he glances at it and passes the information on to the others.

“Everyone on standby,” I hear Theo say as three men move across the square toward the container.

“Open it,” Ortega orders in a grave voice. “Carefully.”

The men follow the orders. One removes the seals from the container. One hands something to another, who turns it on. A quiet whirring cuts through the air.

A saw?

No, it’s not a saw.

It’s a metal cutter.

One padlock. Another… Then another. And the problem’s solved. The door swings open.

And yet no one dares to go inside.

“We’re waiting.” That’s Ryker’s order.

Damien waves at one of them, and two step inside. After a moment, they emerge with a wooden crate.

They set it down in front of Nico as the third hands him a wrench.

My heart hammers against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the sudden hush. I snatch a silent breath, my world narrowing to the crisp, sharp edges of their forms, a burning intensity locking my gaze.

Finally, the lid gives way, and the wood hits the ground.

Damien pushes aside the packing material. With both hands, he grabs a black, shiny object.

My eyes flare wide.

“Fuck.” That’s Theo.

Ryker is silent.

Just like everyone else.

My finger is on the trigger. Eye on the target. Every second drags on, an hour long.

And Estrada, like a waiter carrying a tray, brings the machine gun right up to his boss. A broad smile spreads across Nico’s face. He straightens up, pleased.

A weapon.

A whole fucking container of guns.

Jesus Christ. It’s all true. They’re arming themselves for war.

Against the Pact.

I have no idea who pulls the trigger first. Is it Ryker? Someone else? Is it on purpose? Or by accident?

Either way, in a second, this place turns into hell.

Everything explodes at once. Chaos…

The first shot rings out, and one of Nico’s thugs falls to the ground. A clean shot to the head.

His men scatter. Damien and Ricardo draw their weapons. Nico crouches, glancing over his shoulder at the black SUV.