Orion casually strolls toward the building, doing what he does best: distracting people.
The guard looks up and says, “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m actually a wedding guest. I just lost my card. Let me look for it.”
Orion lazily searches his pockets while Atreus and I home in on the dude from the side. Right before he turns, I knock him out with a single fist to the face. His cig drops to the pavement, still burning.
“Hide him behind the bushes. Quick,” Atreus says.
While Orion stays on the lookout close to the venue, Atlas and I pick up his arms to drag him behind the trees.
The guy we grabbed groans, and Atlas pulls his knife from his pocket and stabs the fucker in the chest.
“Better not to leave any loose ends, right?” he says.
But it’s the way he so easily took someone out that reminds me too much of myself.
Another guard suddenly walks around the corner and stares at us in shock, hands immediately diving into his pocket.
“Oh shit,” I mutter as we back up from the dude we just hid.
Orion tries to block the guard’s vision, but it’s no use, because the guy shoves him aside and points his gun right at me.
BANG!
I blink, thinking my life is over in a flash.
But then I spot the metal barrel, complete with a silencer, right beside my head still smoking from the corner of my eyes.
The second guard flops down onto the ground like a sack of potatoes.
What the hell.
Atreus Foley saved my life.
“Thanks,” I mutter, still stunned.
“Don’t mention it,” he replies.
“Holy shit, that was close,” Orion mutters, running his fingers through his hair. “What do we do now?”
“Drag him away before someone sees,” Atreus barks, running right past me while tucking his gun away like he didn’t just murder a guard in broad daylight.
I’m still too stunned as they carry the body into the bushes right before the man we’re looking for steps out for a smoke.
“What’s happening here?” he growls, the packet of cigarettes still in his hands.
The moment he dives into his pocket, I attack him, jumping on his back to stop him from reaching for a gun.
“Atreus!” I yell, as José knocks me off.
“What the f—” José punches me in the face, so I swiftly pull my knife from my pocket and hold it under his throat.
Atreus comes running to me and points his gun at José’s head. “Don’t move.”
José was about to fish his own knife from his pocket but stops abruptly.
Atreus takes out his cuffs and wraps them around José’s wrists. “José Martínez, you’re under arrest.”
