Page 342 of 7 Minutes in Sea Haven

So put the weapon down, dumbass.

The muscle does not. After all, talking isn’t the muscle’s job.

His index finger moves to the trigger, launching my heart into my throat.

“Hey! You don’t need to do that! You’re gonna get your fucking money! Just hold on! Dad!” I chance the briefest glimpse beside me. “How much did you siphon off of Sera this week?”

Both women cry harder. Is it that hard to believe? Really? Why the fuck else would anyone marry Seraphina Rhodes? It sure as hell wasn’t for her personality.

With a nonchalance that does not fit the severity of our current situation, my dad says, “Hm. Twenty-one K?”

“You still got it?”

“About five of it.”

That’s nothing. Five thousand out of seven hundred fifty-nine thousand is nothing.

I know it, the enforcers know it, we all fucking know it.

The tip of the gun rises to me.

The women aren’t the motivation. I am. They won’t shoot my dad or the debt would die with him. They need to take someone from him to get their point across—if you don’t pay in money, you will pay in blood.

I lower my hands to hide the shaking.

My voice, however, shakes uncontrollably.

“I’ll get you more. I swear to fucking God I will. You said it yourself. You’ve seen me fight. I can get you the money. All of it. Just give me—”

The ear-splitting crack of the bullet exploding out of the barrel causes my eyes to shut involuntarily.

Damn it. I didn’t even get to tell Kota I love her.

That’s all I think about. Not the pain of the bullet tearing through flesh and muscle and bone. Just her. Only her.

Thankfully, I don’t feel any pain. Pain doesn’t belong here. Death is peaceful.

Or it would be if Sera wasn’t screaming her fucking head off.