Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
I point to the next line of soldiers. “Go. Now.”
They scatter out of the house and take up positions along the front, hiding behind bushes and the row of cars we set up as a barricade.
I follow them out and press my back to an SUV. “The second you see an enemy, you pull the fucking trigger!” I bark.
“Yes sir!”
Red hunkers down beside me as the gunshots grow closer and my men start emerging from the trees, all of them pushing hard.
I take the radio from him. “Benny, what have you got back there?”
“More of them. Fuckers.” The sound of a gunshot slaps through the speaker. “They’re everywhere.”
Sarita’s mustered every last man, sending them all rushing toward me like waves to the shore.
Some of my men fall, picked off from behind.
“Strafe the tree line!” I call.
The gunfire ramps up all around me, the trees shaking under the moonlight as bullets pepper their leaves.
Once the retreating men are clear and hunkered down behind the cars, I wave my hand. My men stop shooting.
“Wait for it.” I stare at the woods, watching as the darkness crawls with movement.
“Mateo.” Sarita’s voice crackles through the radio.
Red hands it to me.
“You ready to surrender?” I ask.
Her laughter is like a nail gun in my ears. “This is your last chance, Mateo. Come out and hand yourself over, and no one else has to die. But if you refuse, I’m going to raze this place to the ground and kill everyone I find. That includes your new bride.”
Though I seethe at the threat to Lucretia, my voice remains cold, calm. “Careful, Sarita. Your friends the Fontanas wouldn’t like that too much.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised. They already signed off on her death as long as they get to claim a third of your holdings.”
I grip the radio so hard it cracks. Her parents sold her out again. I’m just glad she isn’t here to hear it, to know how little they value her. The goddamn fools. She was the greatest asset they ever possessed, and now she’s mine.
“You still there?” she goads.
“Yes, and I’ll still be here when all this is through, though I can’t say the same for you. I’ll enjoy curb-stomping you the way I did your sons.”
“You son-of-a-bitch!”
I hold the radio away from me as she screeches, then the sound cuts off.
“Hey, kid. How’s it going over there?” Vincenzo’s voice wraps around me like a constrictor.
Red shakes his head with what looks like disappointment.
“We’re great. Now why don’t you call off your bitch and all of you go on home?”
Sarita sputters in the background as Vincenzo replies, “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’m all in.”
I was seething before, but now the rage courses through me and turns my blood into pure fire. “You set them up, didn’t you, Vince? Tell me the truth for once in your rotten life.”
“Don’t go getting all sanctimonious on me now, kid. This is just business. The same as it was back then. You know how it is, and you play the same game I do.” He sighs heavily. “Just give up. You’re beaten, and you know it. It’s over. You had a good run. Now be a man and save that pretty little wife of yours by stepping up.”
“If you want me so badly, you’re going to have to come get me. But Vince, I need you to know—when you’re dead, I’m going to make sure no one remembers you. I won’t even give you a grave. No wife to mourn you, no children to miss you. It’ll be like you never existed. The next time you see me, it’ll be your last.” I hurl the radio at the sidewalk, smashing it to bits on impact.
“Eyes up, guns ready!” I call.
The woods are still crawling with movement, and then at least a dozen canisters fly through the air and land in the grass, erupting in smoke. Our view is completely obscured as slugs begin to hit the cars and the front of the house, smashing glass and sending bits of stone raining down on us.
“Hold!” I yell.
Red is on his knees beside me, a lighter in his hand. “Come on. Let’s do this.”
“Wait,” I bite out.
I watch the white smoke, searching for movement, for bodies. When I finally catch a glimpse of a rough line of men approaching, I point at Red. He flicks the lighter, the flame glowing orange, and then he presses it to a fuse. It sparks and shoots off beneath the car, into the grass, and disappears.
Red drops to the ground and peers beneath the car, staring at where the fuse went out.
“What the fuck?” I toe him. “It went out.”
“It should work.” He shakes his head. “It has to fucking work!”
The gunfire intensifies, pounding the cars and destroying the house’s façade.
“Red!” I yell.