AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Charlie twenty-two, dispatch.”
Ciro picked up the mic. “Go ahead for twenty-two.”
“We had an alert of a noise complaint at fifteen Hursh Burrow.”
We exchanged a grim look. That wasn’t a nice area of town. The fact that a noise complaint was being called in wasn’t a good sign either. The people who lived there tended to keep to themselves and never called the cops.
“Ten-four, we’re responding. Ten mikes out, dispatch.”
I grinned while I listened as my partner talked to the people who ran our radios. We had our own way of speaking that was second nature now. Mikes, for example, meant minutes. It was hard to remember not to talk in ten-code when we were around non-law enforcement friends and family. There’d been times I’ve spelled things out phonetically for people and they’d gotten completely lost. It was so ingrained in us, half the time I didn’t even realize that I’d asked people where the twenty of a party was until they gave me that slow, blank look and I had to go back and ask for the location. There were times where all of this came in really handy, though, when we didn’t want anyone to know what we were saying. It was a double-edged sword.
I flipped the overheads on and punched the gas. My heart matched the tempo of the wig-wags and sirens as I raced through the city. My body tensed, focus narrowed as adrenaline dumped through my body. This was the ultimate high for risk takers. Nothing beat the thrill of responding to a call and watching everyone get out of the way for our reds and blues.
Chapter 4
Havoc
Ipulled the baseball cap securely onto my head then flipped the hood of my sweatshirt over it. Staring up at the apartment complex I wiped my trembling hands on my jeans. I needed to get rid of the cold sweat that had popped up on them before I pulled on the black gloves I had in my back pocket. Luckily, no one would pay one bit of attention to me here, and there weren’t going to be any cameras that I would need to worry about.
Rafael Santos wasn’t exactly living in the lap of luxury.Pretty soon he wouldn’t be living at all.The smile that crossed my face would have been described as more of a snarl if anyone had been present to see it. But no one was around at eleven p.m. on a Tuesday night. I quickly jogged up the stairs, my work boots making a quiet thunking sound on the concrete as the lights above my head buzzed and flickered.
It gave the whole complex a very horror movie feel, but it was setting the tone for what I was about to do. My stomach churned at the thought.Would I really be able to go through with this?I carefully touched the needle in my pocket that would disable my enemy and even the playing field for me. The heavy bag slung around my shoulder bumped my back with every step, reminding me of what was inside.
Reaching the fifth floor I found apartment five-fifteen and stood outside staring at it quietly. I could turn back. I could turn around, cut the lease on my apartment, go home to Texas, and begin life all over again. This was the beginning. It would be the start of a new life if I took that route. Or it could be the beginning of the end for me.
Sam would take care of my dogs. She’d promised me. Because if I went down this road, I’d take on a cartel. I’d kill at least eight of its members. If they didn’t kill me, it was likely the police would catch me. Then I had to make a choice on whether I wanted to live my life out in prison or commit suicide by cop. There wouldn’t be a third option for me. I would keep going after my family’s killers. I would never give up, so there’d be no running. Eventually, I’d make a mistake and it would mean my death.
My fate didn’t scare me. The only thing that made me hesitate was the way my family would feel about my actions. It didn’t matter that they were gone—slain by the very men I hunted—their opinion of me was the only one that mattered. My breath shuddered out. They were gone, though.
I thought I’d already made my mind up, but this was a big deal. It wasn’t every day you murdered someone. I’d seen plenty of death before, so I knew I could handle seeing a dead body. Some people couldn’t. You never knew how you’d react to one until you saw that corpse. You never know how you’ll react in a crisis until you’re in one. Everyone has heard of fight or flight. There is a third one they don’t tell you about—freeze. So many people freeze up when their brain panics. I’ve been through enough training—even if I was rusty, you never lose those skills—to know how I would react in life and death scenarios. I knew I would be able to handle what I had planned.
Tony’s face materialized in my mind. I swore I could hear his voice, his laugh, feel his strong arms around me. I swallowed the grief that rose, threatening to choke me, and vowed that even if this road led to a painful death, I’d welcome it with open arms because it would bring me back to him.
Knocking softly on the door, I waited with my head down. My hands were in the pocket of my sweatshirt, one clenched around the syringe. I heard footsteps coming toward the door and quickly glanced around the hallway. Relief flooded me when I found it empty still. The door opened in front of me.
“Yeah? Who are you?”
I looked up and smiled at him flirtatiously. No one in the Suburbans should remember what I looked like. They’d pulled in and out so quickly and I’d been far enough away from the pumps that it was unlikely they’d seen me. “Rafael?” I batted my lashes and stepped closer to him.
He frowned at me. “Who are you, lady?”
“Aren’t you Rafael?” I asked again, making sure to slur my words slightly. I put a little stumble into my step so that I ended up leaning on him in the doorway. His eyes narrowed as he stared down at me, but his hands went to my shoulders to steady me. Then those dark eyes darted around the empty hallway.
“Yeah…that’s me. Come on in.” He ushered me inside quickly. I had to look down to hide my smile. I staggered a few steps past him until he turned to shut the door, then I quickly stabbed the needle into his neck. Before I could fill him full of the drugs, though, he whipped around, startling me.
I watched in shock as his hand snaked out and backhanded me, knocking me to the ground.This wasn’t going well.That one thought was all I had time for before Santos straddled me on the ground. “Fuck you, Bitch!” he screamed at me, ripping the needle from his neck and tossing it away from us before wrapping those long skinny fingers around my throat, cutting off my air supply.
I curled my hands around his, trying to pry his fingers from my flesh but he just squeezed harder, and little black dots began to dance around my vision. Bucking my hips, I tried to twist, but it was hard to move—hard to think—when your brain was being deprived of oxygen. Finally, the old training kicked in and I started to fight back. I reached out as far as I could and patted the ground near where Santos had tossed the syringe full of tranquilizers. It was my only hope.
My vision was starting to narrow, growing black around the edges. If I didn’t do something soon, I’d be the one dying here tonight. My hand closed around something solid, and I adjusted it quickly before once again ramming the needle into his neck. This time I managed to depress the plunger. It didn’t take long for his body to go slack and crash down on mine, leaving me there to take in huge gulps of air underneath his unconscious form.
Eventually, I scooted out from under him and stood. Putting my hands on my knees, I bent at the waist, breathing hard. I took the time to recover and get my breath back while I stared down at him before I got to work.
When he woke up those dark eyes shot furiously to mine. Not that he could do anything else since he was duct taped to a chair and had tape over his mouth.
“Rafael Santos,” I said, circling him. I needed to keep moving to keep the nerves from overtaking me. I’d been unsure to begin with and then that mess up with the needle had knocked my confidence. He mumbled something beneath the gag. I ignored him, silently trying to muster all the courage I could, but outwardly show him I was in control. It must not have worked because the look in his eyes was all confidence as he started trying to speak through the gag again.
I moved in front of him and ripped it off. “What’s the matter, chica? Scared I’m going to get out of these and give you more of those to match?” He nodded to the bruises that I knew were already starting to form on my neck. I glared at him and started to put the tape back on his mouth. He tossed his head and made a ‘tsking’ sound. “Don’t you need answers?” I hesitated, but opted to toss the tape to the side.
