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“You couldn’t possibly know what to do with that product, how it’s manufactured, any of it.”
“But I can find out, can’t I? And I’m already in the process of doing so. I sent a sample to a laboratory, and they’re working on the chemical composition as we speak. Before long, I’ll know exactly how to replicate the product.”
“But it’s mine!” Spittle flies from his lips, illuminated by the headlights behind him.
“Relax,” I tell him, savoring his rage for as long as I can. “It’s not like you’ll be around to do anything with it, anyway.”
And that’s when I withdraw my gun and lodge a bullet between his eyes. He didn’t even see it coming.
Alicia’s soft scream as his body hits the ground only punctuates my satisfaction.
As predicted, the remaining guards raise their weapons, but I hold up a hand. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I call out over their grunts of surprise and anger, and as if by magic, a series of lasers appear, bright red in the darkness, their points trained on the chests and heads of the men now aiming their guns at me.
“We’re surrounded,” I announce with a smile as my snipers reveal themselves, closing in on us from all sides. “So if one of you fires at the ground, you’re all dead. It’s as simple as that.”
Either he does it out of anger or because he couldn’t protect his boss and wants to prove himself.
No matter the reason, one of the men raises his weapon and fires.
The sound makes me flinch, crouching instinctively with my own gun raised. I fire before thinking, and he goes down, clutching the wound in his stomach. I’m fine, I realize—before realizing it wasn’t me the guy was aiming for.
My head swings around, my eyes searching frantically for Alicia in the semi-dark. She was standing behind the open car door, and I look that way now, expecting to find her.
What I find makes my heart stop: her body, prone on the ground, Prince lying on top of her.
Just like that day. The wedding. Lying on the ground after the gunshot rang out. Covering her. Thinking she was hit. Thinking my world was shattered—unaware of how correct I was, even if she was safe and unharmed.
How much longer can her luck hold out?
I’m haunted by the sense of the past and present overlapping as I lunge for the car. She can’t be hurt. She cannot be hurt. I won’t allow it. How do I live if she’s gone? “Alicia!”
29
ALICIA
Ibarely know what happened. One second, I was trying to make sense of Alvarez dropping to the ground. Then the next thing I knew, I was on the ground with Prince over me, shielding me. I can hardly breathe with his heavy frame on top of me. I bat at him with both hands. “Can’t breathe!” I gasp.
Enzo pulls him off me, maneuvering me into a sitting position. He takes my face into his hands, and the light from the car’s interior shows me the panic in his eyes.
“Are you injured? Were you hit?”
“I’m fine.” But I don’t think he hears me. Not over his heavy breathing—it sounds like he just ran a marathon, and now I’m afraid he was hurt. But there’s no blood to be seen on his shirt or his pants. He’s okay. Thank God.
“Sorry about that.” Prince is grim as he sits up and brushes himself off. “Reflexes.”
“No, thank you. You don’t have to apologize.” Even though I don’t think the bullet came anywhere near us. If it had, it would’ve at least hit the car. He was only protecting me.
“Get her out of here,” Enzo orders Prince, but I shake my head.
“I want to be here,” I insist. “I’m fine.” When I look over to where Alvarez’s men are now gathered in a cluster, I see Enzo’s guys disarming them. “See? They’re no threat now, and plus, I don’t want to leave you.”
He exchanges a look with Prince, who nods. “Finish this.” Enzo’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t offer any further argument, helping me to my feet before turning back toward the man he killed.
I watched it happen. I see the man with my own eyes. Somehow, I still can’t believe it. Enzo killed Josef Alvarez. Shot him dead. The act was so simple, like brushing his teeth or putting his shoes on.
And now I understand why Enzo didn’t want to give me any specifics about the plan. I could’ve guessed he’d try to have Alvarez killed, but I didn’t know he’d be the one to do it himself. Not right in front of me.
The Alvarez men look in all directions, heads snapping back and forth, muttering in confusion and anger. They have to know there’s no hope. They’re dead men, like the guard now bleeding out on the ground after firing a shot. He could’ve killed my baby. I’m almost consumed by the impulse to walk over and spit on him.
