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Alejandro shoots him a look that I interpret as telling his son to keep quiet.
“I hired a few of the Morenos. Sold to them. But I never worked for them.” Killington’s looking at me with mournful eyes. I recognize the expression because it’s the one he wore at my mother’s funeral.
“And now you’re back in the game.”
He shakes his head. “This is a meeting with old friends. We haven’t broken any laws, Sophia. There’s nothing you can arrest us for.”
“Is that why there’s a gun pointed at my spine?”
“This is the girl you abducted,” Alejandro says matter-of-factly. He’s put it all together now.
“And raped,” I add. I hold Killington’s gaze, waiting for him to deny it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of coral nails cover Gemma’s bright red lips.
“Only because I loved your mother,” Wayne says.
“Say that again?” The gun in my hand quivers. The muscles in my forearms strain.
“I loved your mother. Missed her. You looked so much like her.” His hands are still. He looks me in the eye. The sick fuck believes this clears him.
“You loved her so much you had her killed?”
“Not me.” His gaze cuts to Alejandro. So does my gun.
“Do you have a silencer on that gun?” Alejandro asks the man behind me.
I drop to the floor, roll, and shoot.
Pow.
Ivan’s head splatters against the wall.
My hands are ice. Training kicks in. Overrides. Gun raised. Finger curved behind the trigger.
Killington rises off the sofa. One hand is up, defensively. One hand comes around from behind his back. A flash of metal.
Pull.
The bullet hits his sternum. Below his gold chain.
I direct my gun between Rafael and Alejandro. Alejandro’s hands are on the armrests. Rafael’s left hand is near me. I can’t see his right.
My eyes burn. I blink.Breathe. Focus.
There’s a click of a gun. Close to my ear.
“Put the gun down, Sophia.”
I keep my gun trained on Rafael. “Gemma, don’t do this. There’s a SWAT team approaching. They’ll be here any minute. Don’t do this. You haven’t broken any laws. Not yet. You aren’t a part of this.”
“Put the gun down,” she repeats. But her voice cracks. This isn’t her scene.
Glass shatters. Alejandro’s head falls forward, the back of his scalp a mix of red and creamy white.
A green dot lights Rafael’s forehead and travels down.
“Surrender.” It comes out as a whisper.
The dullpop, pop, popof guns with silencers rings nearby. They’re in the hallway.
