Page 3 of Targeted By Vengeance

“Not a word,” I told her before she could move her hands.

She held her palms up, turned on her heel, and disappeared back into the living room.

I retreated into my own room and closed the door, needing to put as much distance between me and the sound of Simone’s screams. But, the wooden barrier wasn’t enough.

I lay on my bed, slid on a pair of headphones, selected one of my favorite albums, and turned up the volume as loud as it would go.

THE AGENT

I am going to gouge his eyes out with my bare hands. Tear his face apart with my nails. Smear his blood all over that stupid mouth of his.

He had no right locking me in here like an animal. He doesn’t get to have a say about if I stay or go. He’s not my boyfriend. I wouldn’t even go as far as to call him a friend.

He was nothing but a chance at survival at a time when I couldn’t turn to anyone else. Now that I’m out of that ditch, and my wounds have fully healed, I don’t need him anymore.

I can take care of myself.

I stopped trying to break the door down after my throat went hoarse and my hands became sore. If he hadn’t opened the door after a half hour of screaming like a banshee, then he probably wasn’t going to open it at all.

I paced back and forth across the cold wooden floor, examining the room he’d thrown me into. What use did they have for one with barred windows, a firm cot, and barely any light? To hold captives?

I wasn’t a prisoner. Not his. Not anyone’s.

I was going to prove that the second he opened this goddamn door.

The soft clicks of locks coming undone on the other side of the door came later than I would’ve liked.

I grabbed the tiny lamp sitting beside the cot and pressed my back against the wall beside the doorway. I held the weapon high above my head as the doorknob turned and brought it down when the door creaked open.

A hand caught my wrist before the lamp could connect with their head. Rather than Mateo’s almond shaped eyes, I was met with doe-shaped ones.

Blinking, I registered the petite figure standing in the doorway, remembering it belonged to Mateo’s partner, Maria.

Her brow rose as we locked eyes.

“Sorry,” I said, yanking my wrist out of her hand. “I thought you were Mateo.”

With a roll of her eyes, she held out the piece of paper in her other hand.

“What’s this?” I asked as I looked down at the words. I recognized her neat cursive from other messages she’d written for me. Since I wasn’t fluent in sign language, she resorted to text-to-speech or handwritten notes to communicate with me. Which didn’t happen often. Usually, she didn’t have much to say to me.

And I get it.

I used to be their target. Now, I’m extra baggage they’re lugging behind them.

Mateo left, she’d written. Run at your own risk. Just know he’s not going to be happy when he catches you.

By the time I finished reading, she’d turned on her heel and headed back down the hall to the living room.

Brows pinching, I grabbed my bag and followed her, unsure if she was serious.

Maria didn’t spare me a glance as she plopped back on the couch and pulled her laptop into her lap. Her fingers danced around the keys, filling the silence with soft clicks.

I glanced at the front door. Nothing stood in the way of opening it. But where would I go once I stepped out? I wasn’t getting far without a car, I couldn’t cash out my accounts without getting flagged, and I needed more than a gun if I wanted to stand a chance against Logan.

Maybe Mateo was right… I was going to get myself killed if I went out on my own.

Sighing, I took a few steps towards the couch. “May I?” I asked, pointing to the empty spot beside Maria.