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“Yes,” she decides, squaring her shoulders. “Can you do something for me?”
“What would that be?”
“Kill them.”
“That's my plan.” Satisfied, she finally follows Romero's orders, walking out the door with her head held high.
Now that she's out of the way, my thoughts return to Dominic and Jack. Sebastian has been wrong about many things but made a good point earlier. We're lucky they are both a couple of fuck ups. That bomb could easily have destroyed the house, and all of us with it.
Couldn't it?
“I'll stay in contact,” Romero promises. “The minute I hear anything, you'll be the first to know.”
I hardly hear him over the thundering in my ears. Something's wrong with all of this. We've been too busy reacting in a panic to step back and look at the entire situation. “It didn't do much damage, did it?”
“What are you saying?”
Looking around at the cracked plaster and broken glass, I murmur, “It didn't do as much damage as it could have, the bomb.”
“Yeah, and good thing.”
He's practically halfway out the door before I grab hold of him, forcing him to listen. “You're not hearing me.”
“Alright, alright. What are you thinking?”
“One thing about this doesn't make sense.” I walk up and down the hall, toward the stairs, toward the kitchen, following the path of the damage. “There's not an impressive radius to the damage. Did you notice that?”
“I haven't had time to pull out my tape measure just yet.”
“Listen to me. Hear what I'm saying. The bomb wasn't very powerful.” He's still looking at me like I've grown two heads. I wouldn't normally have to explain myself like this, but this is hardly a normal situation. “A powerful bomb could have torn this place to shreds. It didn't.”
Understanding dawns on me all at once. “Why didn't it do more damage?” he whispers. “Why set off a bomb that was never meant to kill anyone?”
His phone rings, and he answers without looking at it, too busy staring at the house like he's seeing it for the first time. “Yeah?” he barks before hearing something on the other end that makes him turn on the speaker.
“It's a fucking trap.” Sebastian, his voice tight, the words coming so fast they almost overlap. “Dominic did it. It was a distraction. He's out there somewhere, nearby. You've gotta stay where you are and keep a watch out for him. I can send my guys to help.”
There's another bomb—the one that's now going off inside my head, tearing everything I thought I knew to pieces. It's all so fucking obvious now that the panic has worn off. “He knew I would send her away. Fuck!”
All it takes is one look exchanged between us before I bolt, running for the car and throwing myself behind the wheel.
This is what he wanted. He wanted her away from the house. He was looking to flush her out much in the same way we've been trying to flush him out all this time.
And as I tear down the driveway, I can almost imagine Dominic sitting in a car down the road, watching everything unfold. Waiting for the truck to return, counting down the seconds before detonation. After that, it was only a matter of time before I sent my little bird to safety.
I fumble with the phone, eyes on the road as I swing the car around. Tires squeal, and I almost lose control before righting the vehicle and flooring the gas pedal.
Bianca's phone rings with no answer. “Pick up!” My roar fills the car with no one to hear it except me. Fuck, did she even bring her phone? Was it on her when Charlie took her away?
I know he's got his phone, since I gave him the address and he plugged it into GPS.
Yet it, too, keeps ringing. Every unanswered ring is a knife to my chest.
The gas pedal is almost touching the floor by the time I reach the interstate. The blaring of horns fades to the background as I weave from lane to lane, the cars around me blurring while I speed past them.
They're out there somewhere.
Possibly caught in the trap set for them.
