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I quickly lose my two crazy men. As I pile things on my arms, I look behind every single item for a better one hidden behind.
I stop by a gigantic metal-wired basket that could fit three of me in there. It’s full of toys and stuffed animals. My mouth falls open when I see a necklace attached to a cat toy made of Legos. It’s part of the cat’s collar. I drop all my items to the floor, stick the front of my boots through the bottom of the basket, giving myself an extra few inches. I grab the edge of the basket, hoist myself a little higher, and bend at the waist over the metal to grab my perfect finding.
With the cat in my hands, I undo the collar. It has a heart dangling from it, made of two flat pieces of Lego. Each piece is a rectangle with one side curved. Pressed together diagonally, they form the heart. They’re attached to the collar by the rounded edges, one hole in each piece.
I feel my eyes sparkle, my heart beating faster. This is so perfect. I let the cat go, keeping the heart in my hands. I undo the two pieces and slot them back together. I’m going to take out the main chain and put a separate one through each hole. That way, they can both wear half of it. And to make it even more perfect, it’s a jade color. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.
In my haste to add it to my pile of things, it slips from my hands and back into the basket. The small heart finds its way deep in there.
“Come on,” I grunt.
I bend over at the waist again, digging through the stuffed bears and other toys. The moment I close my fist around the little collar, my foot slips, and I fall forward into the giant basket.
A short shriek escapes me, my body joining the stuffed toys just as someone grabs my hips. I startle, but don’t push away the help as the two hands drag me back up and onto stable ground.
I chuckle awkwardly as I turn around. “Thank you so—” My voice dies in my throat when I realize the proximity in which he stayed.
He’s close enough to hold a gun against my stomach without anyone seeing. My head whips from side to side, but no one else is in this aisle.
Looking up, I open my mouth to talk, but he brings a gloved finger to his lips, tapping twice. As my eyes drop to the side of his neck, a tattoo grabs my attention.
My heart drops, and that’s when I know.
I still count the number of moons on his tattoo. Seven. The entire cycle of the moon on his neck.
The Bratva Wolves tattoo.
There is no doubt. No doubt my life is over.
Because there is only one motto the discreet Bratva Wolves follow; A wolf’s face is the last thing you see.
Their organization works in total anonymity. They’re invisible, and if they decide to show you who they are, it’s because your minutes are now counted.
Panic grips my chest, its frozen claws shortening my breaths. I want to beg and plead, but that would be stupid now that he told me to stay quiet.
I can safely say this is the most scared I’ve ever been since the disappearance of Elliot’s dad.
Stan might have been rough, but he desired me too much to ever truly hurt me.
Kay wants me dead, but she wants to use me for money more.
Elliot and Ethan love me too much to ever break their favorite toy.
And since Elliot killed Vickie, the threats have stopped.
No. This is it. Someone who truly wants to do me harm and has no reason to keep me alive.
He grabs my arm with a lack of violence I didn’t expect. He’s calm, knows I’m not about to fight back. He comfortably brings me in front of him, his gun now in the middle of my back, and he presses gently.
I walk, praying with all I have that we don’t bump into Ethan and Elliot. The last thing I want right now is for them to see him too and sign their death warrants. If one of us has to go, I’d rather it be me.
“In there,” he says with a calm voice when we come to a door with a sign that saysstaff only.
I can see he’s already unlocked it. That’s probably the way he came in. I push it open, walking into a back room. There’s an exit on the other side, and judging by the small rectangular window above it, it leads outside.
I gulp. There’s a way out. If he lowers his guard for even a second, I could run. He turns me around with a hand on my shoulder, keeping his gun trained on my stomach. A bullet there doesn’t have to be lethal. That’s a good thing, right?
“Hello, Jade.”
