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I punched his wrist so it fell out of his hand. Then I pulled my gun and pushed the barrel against his skull, my fingers clicking off the safety and cocking the gun. My arm hooked around his neck and squeezed hard so there was no escape. “Shoot, and he dies.” I kept my eyes on Damien but addressed his men.
Damien fought against me, but he stopped when I pushed the metal barrel farther into his scalp.
“Come on.” I dragged him across the floor, forcing him to move with me. “You fucking piece of shit, I give you mercy, and this is what you do.”
He choked against my hold, dragging his feet.
I slammed the gun into his head and kept dragging. “Move, asshole.”
Blood dripped down his skull to his shoulder, but he obeyed, struggling to breathe.
I pulled him up the stairs and to the main floor where Steel and Ian waited for me. “Get the money. Let’s go.” I kicked the front doors opened and pushed Damien first, using him as my bulletproof vest. I yelled to the top of the next building, where I could see the shadows move as they aimed their guns. “Shoot, and he dies.” I kept him on the sidewalk, the space between the entrance and the armored vehicle. I kept him right in front of me so they couldn’t sneak a shot. “Tell your men to stand down.”
Damien stayed quiet.
I slammed the gun into his scalp again.
He grunted in pain then obeyed. He raised his hand, signaling to his men to drop their weapons.
Steel and Ian carried the bags to the truck and threw them into the back.
I pushed Damien to his knees, like I was going to execute him.
He stayed on one knee, blood dripping down onto his shirt. He looked up at me, breathing hard in both and rage.
My other men hopped out of the truck, their guns raised and aimed on Damien.
I felt the gun shake in my hand because I was tempted to pull the trigger, to snuff out his life forever. I’d given him the chance to put this behind us, and the motherfucker still resisted, pulled this stunt and almost got me.
He held my gaze, refusing to show fear even though he would only survive this because of a miracle.
A miracle called Catalina.
I hit the safety on my gun and stuffed it into the back of my jeans.
Damien couldn’t hide his surprise.
I kneeled down in front of him, bringing us to eye level. “I’m disappointed in you, Damien. Nothing will ever be the same now.”
Blood dripped down his temple and made tracks down his cheek.
“So, this is what we’re going to do. For the next three months, I’m taking all of your profits, every single euro. You’ll have to dip into your savings to pay your crew, so hopefully you’re prepared.”
He pressed his lips tightly together in anger, but he didn’t argue, probably because he was shocked he got to live.
“Understand?”
Silence.
“And I’m going to check, Damien. My fingers are gonna be up your ass looking for change.”
He still refused.
“Say yes.”
His nostrils flared.
“Say yes, asshole. Or I’ll do it.” I pulled out my gun.
He breathed hard, hating himself for what he had to do. But he knew this was his last chance, and he had to sacrifice his pride if he wanted to go home to his woman. “Yes…”
I smiled. “Good boy.” I patted him on the head like a dog and rose to my feet.
“That’s it?” James asked. He raised his pistol and aimed. “We need to kill this motherfucker.”
“It’s fine.” I turned away from Damien. “Get into the truck.”
James wouldn’t drop the gun. “Why does this asshole get so many—”
“Get. In. The. Fucking. Truck.” I stared at James, needing unflinching obedience right now.
James stared at me and lowered the gun.
“Get in.” I turned to the rest of the men.
But out of the corner of my eye, I saw James raise his gun again, his finger moving over the trigger.
I operated instinctively, not thinking about my actions until it was done. I raised my gun and pulled the trigger.
James staggered back, dropping his gun and gripping his arm where he’d been shot. “Fuck!”
I shot my own man and felt sick doing it. But I did it…for her. “When I give an order, you obey it. Get your fucking ass in the truck, and let’s go.” I watched the men obey this time, not even looking back at Damien.
