Page 106

Damien likes opulence. He would never spend a minute in this normal house, even if it is near Miami.

He’s playing with us.

“I’m picking up on three heat signatures inside the building,” Spider says, watching his screen. “One’s a kid. There’s no fucking way he’s in there.”

“He’s not,” Jack says in disgust, pulling his phone away from his ear. “He’s in Monte Carlo for an F1 race.”

“Or so he wants us to believe,” Julian replies, eyeing me. I know he’s afraid that I’ll lose my shit and kill someone.

And the thought did cross my mind.

Because I’m fucking livid, and I need someone to pay. And he will, when I eventually find him.

“Let’s go home. He’s sending us on a fucking wild-goose chase, and I’m done giving him the satisfaction. I want to be home with my family, where I can protect them myself.”

“Let’s move out,” Julian agrees, and Jack starts the car, pointing us away from the small house and toward the airfield.

I try to call Rina, but it goes to voicemail. She must still be working with Asgood, so I hang up and send her a text letting her know that we’re on our way back.

Thirty-Six

RINA

They say when you’re in a serious, scary situation that could mean death, your life flashes before your eyes. I’m here to tell you that’s not true.

I should know. This isn’t the first time for me.

My first thought is: Where the fuck are my guards?

And then I can’t think at all because a crazed asshole is rushing us, wielding a big fucking knife, and Asgood throws her body over Stacy, shielding her from getting hurt worse, while I decide that it’s a good idea to run headlong at the asshole, screaming Bacon’s name.

Someday, that last part might be funny, but right now, there’s nothing funny about this.

“You stupid cunt,” Asshole spits, obviously yelling at Stacy. “You thought you could steal my shit?”

I’m dodging the knife, and he’s getting some punches in, but I’ve been training with the girls, with Mateo, and I’m stronger than I look.

Not to mention, I’m fast.

But he gets a lucky hit in, slicing that knife over my shoulder, mere inches from my carotid artery, and I push him against the wall. The asshole isn’t big. I think I might outweigh him, and I’m definitely a little taller than him, but he’s mean, and he’s pissed as fuck.

And then I remember that I’m armed.

I pull the gun from the small of my back and hold the barrel aimed at the son of a bitch’s forehead, and his eyes go big as he stops fighting me.

“Bacon!” I yell again, and then I hear footsteps on the stairs as I hope my guards run our way.

“What the fucking fuck!” Ricky yells as he pulls his own weapon, and I can hear Bacon on the phone behind me.

Asgood stands, pulling herself off Stacy, and she goes right back to work, as if we weren’t just attacked in this makeshift clinic room.

My life has turned into a goddamn circus.

I hear sirens outside, and then the paramedics rush in while Bacon and Ricky haul the maniac out. Asgood and I give direction as we scramble out alongside them, doing everything we can to keep Stacy alive.

“We’re going to the infirmary in Julian’s building,” Asgood barks out, and I scowl at her.

“Why not the hospital?”