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“I have a lot of nieces,” he continued, opening the blade. “One less is no skin off my back.”
The following events happened so fast, I couldn’t be sure if they were real. I thought time would slow, like in television, but death was immediate. I was beginning to realize that.
Don Luca stepped behind a trembling Sofia, whom I’d forgotten was there. She squealed, squeezing her eyes shut as he slid the blade across her throat. Blood spewed from the gash. She fell immediately, her body dragging along the floor before the pulley system was triggered, lifting her into the air by her feet. She hung upside down, suspended from the rafters, blood gushing from the wound at her neck.
Don Luca avoided the crimson spray with grace. I crawled backward, bile rising in my throat. My vision blurred, whether from the loss of blood or the shock to my system I didn’t know. Once I’d inched away from the bath of blood, I stopped trying to escape and gasped for air.
Don Luca squatted in front of me, elbows braced on his knees. He held the flash drive between his fingers, forcing me to look at it as well.
“If this doesn’t have what I asked for,” he began, his tone casual, “I will destroy you and anyone who tries to protect you. You won’t know when or how, but your death will be slow and imminent.”
“Don’t worry.” I swallowed a mouthful of vomit, meeting his dark glare with my own. “It has exactly what you asked for.”
He nodded, his face grim and stony, before rising once more. He exited the slaughterhouse with elegance, as if he hadn’t just been part of a massacre. I heard the metal doors slide open, accompanied by the rumble of an engine.
As the tires rolled away—not at all how I imagined one would leave the scene of a crime—I tried to bring myself to my feet. I needed to get the camera, but in all my careful planning, I’d forgotten to ask Eoghan where he’d hidden it. The warehouse was huge. It’d take me hours to search, all the while leaving traces of myself at a double homicide.
The camera had filmed everything, but not what I’d hoped for. I hadn’t gotten a confession from the don. He was getting antsy and I knew my time was running out. I’d had to euthanize his little pet before anyone else, including Jack, fell victim.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
Jumping to my feet, I spun to find Eoghan standing by the doors to the slaughterhouse, his chest heaving. He had his phone in hand, his hazel eyes wide and shimmering.
“Are you okay?” he asked, horrified. “Oh fuck, Em, that was torture to watch.”
My mind wasn’t working correctly. I blinked at him, bewildered. A layer of blood coated my lashes, making it difficult to see out of my right eye. “You…watched?”
Eoghan neared, holding my shoulders in his hands. His frightened gaze ran over my body, taking inventory, then drifted to the wound on my forehead. “Are you good for a sec?”
I nodded. Eoghan disappeared into the darker part of the room, rummaging around. When he returned, he had a small camera in hand.
“I had a feed straight to my phone,” he explained, shaking the camera for good measure. “I knew you were lying through your teeth about Ella’s school project. I didn’t think this was what you were up to. When I saw them drag that Sofia girl in, I came from SoHo as fast as I could. Christ, Emma. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I wanted to get a confession,” I whispered, prodding the wound on my head. “I wanted him to admit to ordering the hit on his daughter so I would have something against him for real this time.”
“Stop touching it.” Eoghan pulled my hand away from my face. He wrapped an arm around my torso and helped me walk out of the slaughterhouse. “We need to get you to Mick.”
“What about the…bodies?” I didn’t want to say their names aloud.
“Let the police take care of it. That’s what they’re paid for.”
“But Jack’s gun,” I protested. “If they find it—”
“They won’t. I grabbed it. Either way, it’s untraceable.” He sighed, lifting me over an uneven section of the sidewalk. “Why were you shooting with one hand?”
I tried to shrug, but it was impossible with Eoghan carrying me at such an awkward angle. “That’s how the cowboys do it in movies.”
“Are you a cowboy, Emma?” Eoghan asked, his concern quickly turning to anger.
“I don’t know what I am…”
My vision doubled. The ache in my head was reaching an apex. My center of gravity was off, the pavement tilting. I needed to sit, or I’d collapse.
“That makes two of us,” Eoghan countered. He paused to examine me, furrowing his brow. “Emma?”
Pushing him away just in time, I spilled the contents of my stomach onto the pavement between us. Eoghan cursed, pulling my ponytail out of the line of fire.
“How are we going to explain my injury?” I asked a moment later, wiping my mouth with my sleeve.
