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His father hushed him violently and all sound ceased. They were listening for me. I gave them nothing to hear.
“You hear that?” Diesel asked after a moment.
“I don’t hear anything,” Grey replied.
“Exactly,” Diesel said in a husky whisper. “They stopped running. Whoever it is, they’re hiding somewhere.”
“Dies, come on,” Corvus said, his voice taking on a tone I didn’t recognize. What was up with him tonight? “They’re gone. Let’s just—”
“Spread out,” Diesel barked, cutting Corvus off. “Rook and Grey, that way. Corv, you’re with me. We’ll find this son of a bitch.”
They spread out, and I evened out my breathing, not moving a muscle as I caught sight of two silhouettes approaching. Grey and Rook.
Rook broke off from Grey and headed further away to the right, bent low with a mischievous grin on his face, his gun raised. This was all just a massive game of hide and seek to him. Unlike the others, he didn’t seem bothered by the fact that the person they were hunting had blades, and maybe even a gun. Or maybe he’d already put it together.
The thought struck a nerve. Rook knew I was here.
What would he do if he found me?
But it wasn’t him I had to worry about as he moved further and further away, it was Grey, who was carving a path almost straight for me.
“Clear!” Corvus shouted from somewhere far off in the distance.
“Clear!” came Diesel’s brusque voice, closer than I’d have liked.
“Clear!” Rook.
Grey stooped low, tipping his head to the side as he examined the hollow between the tree and the stone. I held my blade high, but my hand trembled as he crept closer.
Don’t make me kill you...
He darted forward, yanking a branch out of the way, handgun raised.
I could have thrown. I could have stopped him. I didn’t.
I stood there in full view, blade at the ready if he looked like he might fire.
He didn’t.
Grey’s lips parted in silent horror as he took me in, his gun lowering.
“Grey!” Diesel snarled from somewhere far too close.
Grey blinked, stepping back and releasing the branch. His eyes didn’t leave mine as he hollered back. “Clear!”
Then he was gone.
I sighed, my breath tripping from my lips, broken as I let the relief cascade over me. My breaths loud in my own ears, but they’d already moved on. I didn’t think I could hear them anymore.
Never let your guard down, that was rule number one that Dad taught me when he took me on our first job. When he bought me my blades after a good win at the private casino. Rule number fucking one, and for just a second, I forgot.
I didn’t even see him coming. His hand curled around my forearm and dragged me from my hiding place, tossing me to the ground as though I weighed no more than a sack of potatoes.
My shoulder and the side of my face knocked into the hard dirt, and I scrambled to get to my feet in the dark, shaken but regaining my balance quickly.
I lifted my blade, ready to throw it straight into the heart of Diesel St. Crow before he could lift his weapon to take aim.
“Sparrow, don’t!”
