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“I did my research,” I go on to say. I wrap my arms around myself and follow along.
Broderick asks me another dozen questions, most of which I only half hear and barely understand. The thumping of my heart blots out all rational thought, but somehow I manage to answer him. Woodenly. By rote. All the answers I’d already gone through before this moment in time.
I press a hand to my throbbing chest, pain spreading from the area and a fist squeezing the organ.
He’s almost in place.
Almost time.
Almost—
“Yes, I do believe this will work out nicely for our purposes. With a place to store our product, we will be able to expend more time and energy on opening lines of trade and communication.” Broderick turns to me, and the wicked smile lighting his face has my heart stalling for a single second.
He’s getting off on this whole thing, and I know in an instant he began the venture not because of the money but to punish me. For existing. For breathing.
A hint of movement catches me from the corner of my eye, and I glance over in time to see the hem of a camel-colored jacket disappearing into shadow.Devan.
“I’m not sure if you want a space to separate the girls from the boys, but this room can be easily divided for your needs,” I say loudly, needing Broderick to incriminate himself.
Say it.
Admit what you’re doing.
I’m in the center of the room, the spot with the best angles for a sniper shot from the upper balconies. And I don’t care. Not when my focus is entirely on Broderick and his slow, predatory steps toward me. I don’t care if I’m hit. It needs to end now.
“Aria, you are a genius.”
“You’re still mad at me for disappearing.”
He grabs me by the back of the neck. “You displeased me by taking off without my permission. This is going a long way toward pleasing me, baby.”
“You never answered my question.” His lips are close, and my voice shakes.
“What? About the kids?”
“The kids you’re taking off the street,” I reply.
He hauls me toward him and smashes his lips to mine in a punishing mockery of a kiss. “This will work nicely,” he says in an undertone against my skin before his tongue pushes between my lips.
No. Not like this.
The thought barely has time to form inside my brain before a shot rings out, and the shoulder or Broderick’s jacket starts to smoke.
He jumps back from me. Instinct has me reaching forward before he gets too far, toward the holster at his hip and the gun he always keeps there for backup. A big one, too. For a big man. The latch of the holster slides open, and his own moment works against him. I hardly need to tug before I’ve got the pistol in my hand and pointed—shakily—at his chest.
The guards are in place a moment later, surrounding Broderick and me in a protective circle, too on edge to realize I’ve trained my sights on him and not the shooter.
“What the hell is going on?” Broderick looks and sounds unperturbed, staring at me as though I’ve inconvenienced him. The bullet trail on his jacket no longer smokes, but Devan missed him.
He missed.
“It’s over, Broderick,” I say out loud. “I’m not going to let you take any more kids.”
The men finally turn, cocking off their safeties.
“You brought me out here to double-cross me?” He clucks his tongue. “I have to say, I'm disappointed in you.”
“I don’t give a shit.” Tears burn the corners of my eyes, and I have to bite down on my tongue to keep from screaming. “I’m not going to let you get away with this.”
