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A slow, wicked smile curves his mouth as his gaze travels the length of my body. Not that he can see it through the veil, but I give him my bestfuck youglare while holding my tongue. This is my only chance, and I will use it wisely.
I’ve played this moment in my head a million times. I need to wait until they are distracted, even for a fraction of a second before I go in for the kill. And if that moment never comes, I’ll create a distraction. Whatever that may be.
Behind Jorge, my uncle releases an aggravated huff. “Just get on with it,” he growls, but the priest sticks to the script. Droning on about the meaning and importance of marriage, how as a couple we can grow closer to God through our sacred union.
He’s wasting his breath, but at least it buys me time. My eyes sweep the courtyard looking for any sign that the feds are nearby, perhaps in hiding. If they are, I certainly hope my would-be saviors hold off long enough for me to do the job I came here to do. I don’t care what happens after that.
That’s not entirely true. I hope they burn this place to the ground.
The sun has sunk below the horizon, and fairy lights strung along the side of the house flicker to life, creating a magical glow. A laugh of disbelief catches in my throat at how romantic this all appears. What a fucking joke. Jorge’s eyes gleam, but I don’t allow my focus to leave his neck. The carotid artery. Aim there, if somehow I get the chance to take down Jorge after my uncle.
“And now the couple will make their vows in the presence of God and with the understanding that God is part of the union.” The priest’s monotonous voice steals my attention as he looks at Jorge and asks him if he takes me as his wife.
He responds with a smirk before muttering, “I do.”
It’s my turn to say the words, but they seem to stick in my throat. My lips part, but the only thing that comes out is an aggrieved sob. My uncle gives me a glacial glare, while Jorge grabs my chin brutally.
“Say the word, traitor, or you won’t like what happens next,” he hisses, his fingers digging into my skin.
I know I should, but I can’t. My body simply won’t cooperate. I struggle to suck in a breath, as his eyes darken from gray to the blackest of black. He’s close enough that I could sink the scissors into his neck, but I won’t have time to kill my uncle as well, not with all eyes on me. And Emilio is the target.
Jorge squeezes my neck. A warning that it’s time to play his game. Fighting every instinct to back away from his touch, I blink rapidly and suck in a breath in through my nose.
Steadying my nerves, I nod, and then in the barest whisper, force out the words. “Yes, I do.”
I remind myself that those words mean nothing. I’m a dead woman walking, anyhow.
Before the priest can declare us man and wife, the lights go out, drowning the yard in a pitch-black wave.
Relief fills my chest, as a low murmur of confusion sweeps through the small crowd. Turning to the guard closest to him, my uncle barks, “Go see what the issue is. And if it can’t be fixed immediately, switch to generator power.”
The guard nods and runs off to do my uncle’s bidding just as an explosion from the west side of the property lights the night sky. Holy shit, the feds are moving in. Jorge and my uncle exchange a cursory look before they start shouting instructions at their men. Chaos ensues, scared staff take off in all directions, and I know this is my time.
Before I can make a move, my uncle storms off, well past my reach, but Jorge remains in my crosshairs. Here goes nothing.
In one fluid motion, I grab the handle of the scissors from my bouquet and lodge the pointy blades deep in Jorge’s neck. His horrified shriek pierces the air, but the sound gets lost in the melee. His eyes fly open in shock, and I enjoy a moment of satisfaction knowing the stainless-steel landed exactly where intended. Blood drips from his wound but he shows no signs of slowing down, one hand reaching for me as he hisses, “You fucking bitch.”
I have just enough time to yank the scissors from his artery, then stab him again through his corded flesh, his eyes bulging with my repeated assault. I’m pure rage and scorn, my fury unleashed as I thirst over the sight of his blood spilling down his neck.
Gunshots echo in the distance, shaking me from my bloodlust. There is no time to think. No time to panic. Jorge has dropped to the ground, curled up on his side when he makes a move for his holstered gun.
“I don’t think so.” I laugh callously as the spiked heel from one of my bridal shoes, now soaked crimson, lands on his arm, stopping further movement. I grind my heel into the soft flesh of his forearm, pulling expletives and a tortured groan from his throat.
Reaching down, I relieve him of his gun. Luckily, I had the foresight to learn how to use a pistol years ago. That training is about to pay off. I watch with glee as Jorge’s life force seeps from him. Who knew sewing scissors could do such damage? But I won’t be satisfied until the man that took everything from me is dead.
Screams echo in the distance, along with another wave of gunfire. Most of the guards have scattered, attempting to figure out what in the hell is going on, while the priest cowers below a bench. Only one person remains standing in the middle of the courtyard.
My uncle.
He watches me callously, enjoying every minute of my discomfort.
He hasn’t missed a thing. He’s been biding his time, waiting for me to come at him. But now he comes after me instead. Full force. His face contorted in an angry mask. I raise the gun, releasing the safety but I’m a moment too late. My uncle has me pinned to the ground before I can defend myself.
“You made a big mistake,” my uncle spits while raising his fist. Less than a second later, it comes crashing down on the side of my face.
I bite my lip, tasting blood.
Then the world goes black.
