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25
Priest
Low voicesand rough grunts catch my attention, and I veer in the direction they seem to be coming from, urgency beating inside me like a drum. The voices grow more distinct as I approach. There are only so many ways someone can call someone else a ‘little bitch’ in English, and it’s not hard to translate the furious Spanish either.
Shit.
I pick up my pace, running toward the alley up ahead.
When River left the house, I followed her, maintaining my distance but keeping an eye on things. I don’t know why I did it. But as soon as she left, I was in my car, following her to the restaurant I know more by reputation than anything else.
Now the place will have a different rep, I guess.
I round a corner into the alley and find River with her back pressed against the wall and three large, muscular men bearing down on her. One of them has a gun aimed right at her head, and the others look like they’re ready to watch her die.
I narrow my eyes and draw my weapon, which has a silencer attached. The first man drops without either of the others noticing at first. He goes down like a sack of bricks. When the second one goes down, the last catches the movement in his periphery, and he whips around to look at me, mouth open like he’s about to shout or curse.
He doesn’t get the chance. I pop him like the other two, and he slumps to the ground in a heap, landing right on the body of one of his buddies.
River just stands there, her chest heaving and her eyes wild. She meets my gaze, and I can see the shock in her blue irises.
“What the fuck are you waiting for?” I snap. “Let’s go.”
She shakes herself out of her daze and nods. “Right. Right.”
I pivot on my heel and stride away, sensing her behind me but not turning around to check. We hurry back to my car, which I left parked a couple blocks away.
When she draws up beside me, I notice that she’s hobbling a little, but it doesn’t slow her down much, and she doesn’t complain. She slides into the passenger seat of my car and slams the door closed. Once I’m in beside her, I fire the engine up and we peel out, beating tracks back toward the house.
We drive in silence, neither one of us saying a word.
River stares straight ahead out the windshield, her jaw tight. There’s a bruise on the side of her face—from the fight, I’m guessing—and just looking at it makes fierce anger snap under my skin.
It’s irrational. It makes no fucking sense. I try to keep my eyes on the road, because every time I glance over at her, I feel myself wanting to snarl like a caged beast.
“What about the bodies?” she asks finally, her voice sounding almost too loud in the otherwise quiet car.
“We’ll leave them there,” I reply shortly.
She glances over at me, raising an eyebrow in a silent question, and I shrug.
“No one in that neighborhood will be surprised to find a few bodies in an alley. And they were all gang members. The cops will barely investigate.”
The neighborhood where the restaurant is located is one of those places that has the veneer of being a fancy shopping district, but just behind all the shops and restaurants are the kinds of alleys where drug deals, gang wars, and whatever the fuck else go down all the time.
No one will blink twice.
River just nods, seeming to accept that answer. She goes back to staring out the window, clearly lost in her own thoughts.
I keep my eyes on the road until we get back to the house, not sure why my heart is beating so fucking fast. Before she came along, I was better at this. I could control myself and my emotions. It was what I was practically infamous for.
But by the time we pull up to the house, I feel like there’s too much happening under my skin.
I screech to a stop in the driveway and do the usual glance around to make sure no one followed us. The street is clear, so I get out and head into the house with River following me. The dog bounds up to us as soon as we walk in the door, circling around River excitedly.
Ash and Knox are in the kitchen when we walk in.
Knox has a massive burger in front of him that he’s practically inhaling, and Ash is fiddling with a coin in one hand while he leans against the counter.
