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“Nice leather band you got there.” Whoever was standing in front of me tapped my left wrist. “Hiding your mark doesn’t hide you from us.”
I showed my palm. “I’m out. Not with Walker.”
“You don’t just get out.”
“Look at me, ass monkey.” I gestured to my face. “What good am I?”
“I hear you were doing fine in there. Dancing. Making nice with the college buddies.”
Of course this guy knew what was going on. This was his block. Son of a bitch. I didn’t recognize his voice, though. “What do you want?”
“Why are you inmyterritory?”
“Just takin’ my girl to a party, man.” I showed my hands. “Care to tell me who I’m talking to?”
“Raymond.”
Shit, I knew Raymond. He was second in command of our rival gang. “Well, Raymond. I meant no disrespect, man. Didn’t realize where the party was.” I pointed to my face. “For obvious reasons. Let the girl go, and we can talk.”
He huffed.
Lizzie screamed, and I heard more shuffling.
“What, man?” I leaned in, wishing to any God who would hear me that I could see. What was happening to Lizzie? “What? We’re just walking here. Making our way to our car.”
Cold fingers curled around my throat. I reached for his arm and jammed my fist onto his elbow. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Blind my ass,” someone behind me said, and kicked out my knee. My kneecaps cracked against the cement.
Lizzie screamed.
“I hear Walker’s not buying your loyalty either.” Something cold pressed against my temple.
Cold, hard, and round.
Barrel of a gun.
Lizzie whimpered.
“Let the girl go.”Please.“She’s not involved in this shit. We were just at a party, hanging out.”
He laughed. “Wrong party, asshole.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Lizzie
Thenoosearoundmyneck tightened. Not a lick of air was getting into my lungs. My head spun. Stars littered the periphery of my vision.
Damon was on his knees, some guy holding his arms behind him, and this guy, Raymond, pressed a gun to Damon’s forehead.
A fucking gun.
Mom’s image flashed in my mind. Immediately I was back in New York. Snow was falling, and I was lying on the ground, bleeding out from the car crash. Mom was ten feet away, kneeling much like Damon was, with a gun pressed to her forehead.
She, too, was begging for my safety. Pleading for them to spare me. Damon said it only once, but fear contorted his face. He was scared for me.For me. Even thoughhehad the gun to his head, he told them to leave me alone. To spare me.
My lungs burned for air. I was heaving, but none was getting in. No, I was getting air in. Too much.
