Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“How about you get these fucks incapacitated, so we can figure that out?” Rico asked as Cinna was already wrenching the father’s arms up, and slapping on zip ties that she pulled tight enough to make him cry out even as his bullet wound kept bleeding through his pant leg.
Coal tucked his gun away, going for the bolder kid first, kicking the backs of his knees until he hit the ground, then struggling for a moment to hold him still so Cinna could slip on the zip ties.
He was still working on the slowly crying younger son when the back door opened again, and this time, Renzo himself moved in.
His gaze moved around the space, then landed on Cinna. “You were right to call,” he said.
“I got here before you, asshole,” Cinna said, voice devoid of ill will, as she looked at Rico. “Clocked it not being good, and called in reinforcements.”
Even as she said it, more bodies started flowing in through the back door. A bunch of Renzo’s soldiers, who started moving around, gathering the men, and taking the one down from the hook.
“Guess you thought you could fuck with me, huh?” Renzo asked, looming over the father as he hissed and whimpered in pain.
I stepped back, tucking my gun away now that Renzo and his crew were here to take over.
I found my gaze seeking Cinna, watching as she cut the duct tape Coal was unraveling to put over the mouth of the older kid who felt the need to tell us all the ways he was going to make us pay, despite being incapacitated.
She was as capable as ever, moving with a catlike sort of grace even as she moved from duct tape duty to helping a couple of Renzo’s soldiers pull the guy down from the meat hook.
“Toss that one in the freezer,” Renzo said, nodding toward the difficult son. “The other in the walk-in fridge. We will deal with them later.”
With that, everyone started to follow their orders until the only person left in the kitchen with us was the guy who was being unwrapped as he sucked in greedy, frantic breaths.
It was then that Cinna’s hand went into her pocket, fishing out her phone, and bringing it to her ear.
“What? Slow down. Right now? Okay. I’m coming.”
It seemed I was the only person who noticed the call, or even the way Cinna ducked out the back door without a word. In a rush to be… somewhere. Where something was clearly going down.
“Boss,” I called, waiting for Renzo to turn to me.
“Yeah?”
“Mind if I bounce?” I asked. “Seems like you got enough hands here.”
“Yeah. Go on. No reason for all of us to have a long night. Stay by your phone though. Might need to roll if we find out some shit.”
“Got it,” I agreed, nodding, and making my way outside, just barely catching sight of Cinna as she ducked into a cab.
“Fuck,” I hissed, waiting for another one, and flagging it down. “Follow that cab,” I said, tossing a stack of cash at him, so he didn’t immediately tell me to get the fuck out of his cab.
It wasn’t a long drive.
And I knew almost immediately as the cab pulled down a side street leading to a much rougher area of town where we were going.
To Cinna’s place.
What the fuck was going on?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Cinna
Not much would have called me away from something so major going on with the family.
But the call was from Joel.
And that could only mean one thing.
I answered figuring it would just be him giving me the lowdown about someone coming out of my place, snooping around.
“Someone’s here,” he whispered, voice tight.
“What?” I asked.
“Someone is here. Five-ten. Bulky. Brown hair. Thousand-dollar kicks. He’s—“
“Slow down. They’re still there?”
“Yes.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’m coming,” I said, glancing around to make sure no one would miss me, then sneaking out the back, running toward the street to flag down a cab.
Excitement sizzled across my nerve endings at the idea of finally, fucking finally, getting a lead. Someone who would actually know something. That could lead to some answers. The guys I was looking for. So I could finally make them pay.
And, hopefully, in doing so, I might be able to take back that part of myself I felt like I’d lost that night. The part that was so sure of herself, so strong, the part that wasn’t afraid.
Because even as the cab drove down the blocks toward my apartment, the anticipation melted into something else. Something all-too familiar recently.
Anxiety.
Worse still, fear.
I swallowed back the coppery taste of it as I tossed money at the driver, then rushed out of the cab, refusing to give into it, to let it rule me.
I was up to my floor in what felt like a blink, my gun in my hand.