“Rosie, don’t do this,” she pleaded, kissing her daughter’s head.
“Tell Luke I love him. You already know I love you,” I said.
Then the man snatched my arm roughly, pressed the cold steel into my temple and we left.
To Death, up close and personal, I presumed.
I wasn’t knocked out.
Or blindfolded.
Which didn’t mean good things for me. Generally when people kidnapped other people with the intention of eventually letting them go, they made sure no evidence could lead back to them. Hence the need for blindfolds and chloroform and such.
“You’re one of Fernandez’s men, aren’t you?” I asked the silent man driving the SUV.
He hadn’t spoken since he’d bustled me into the car and told me he’d come back and shoot Gwen and the children while I watched if I tried any “funny business.” Yes, he said “funny business.” It would’ve been funny if he hadn’t been dead serious.
“The big bad crime lord really has to point guns at little girls to get who he wants?” I continued, fury turning my voice to ice. “I shouldn’t be surprised, since he picks on defenseless girls, makes money off their suffering. He’s a coward. Picking on people who can fight back isn’t actually his style, is it?”
Silence.
“You’ve got a mother? Wife? Daughter? How do you think they’d feel about this shit?” I spat.
More silence.
“I’m going to kill you. One day. And I can’t wait for that day to come, because you won’t be feeling so fucking mute. You’ll be begging for your life,” I promised.
He didn’t say a word.
I huffed, slamming my back into the seat and crossing my arms. Then my fingers snaked down to the knife in my boot, toying with the top of the handle.
I itched to sink it into the soft part of his neck. It would be easy. The car might crash, but the man who’d pointed a gun at my baby niece would be dead. Not a bad tradeoff. Then I remembered his promise. I didn’t doubt that another spineless evil prick would replace him to carry that out.
I let go of the knife, accepting my fate. But far from peacefully or happily. I didn’t want to die that day. There was too much to live for. How could it be the plan that everything I’d ever wanted was in my life and now my life was over?
“That’s the way the cookie crumbles,” I whispered, mimicking Lucky’s words.
Maybe that’s what happened. People died when they got every single thing they’d ever wanted. Because human beings weren’t designed to get everything. Something needed to be taken away to balance that out.
I’d just have to make sure I went down with as much bullets and blood as I could.
We drove for a while, though I couldn’t say for how long. I didn’t even really take notice of what direction we went; I knew I wasn’t getting out of this, so what was the point in marking landmarks?
I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to give up, but I knew the world. Guys like Fernandez. If I fought, and won—which I could, if the odds were in my favor—then I’d survive. Luke would rejoice. There would be a reunion. Happiness.
But then five minutes, five days, five weeks afterward, there would be more blood.
And it wouldn’t be the men, the ones wearing the patches, the ones ready for war. No, it would be those tiny humans with beautiful curls and cheeky smiles.
I thought of Lily’s newborn. That content smile as Asher held her and her baby. Or Mia’s little boys, one who’d tied up his preschool teacher for fun. Ones who brought love and light to Bull’s eyes. The happiness that Bex had seemed to grasp onto, that Lucky had given her despite living through a nightmare I didn’t know if I could’ve survived.
Of those women I may as well be shooting if I tried to fight.
Lizzie told me that I had to fight. Save myself. And she was right. But I already did that.
Luke already did that.
If it was just me and him, I would’ve fought.
To the death.
But my family was bigger than just me and Luke. And I had to shield them. Even if it meant the end of me.
Luke would understand.
We were sitting in a large living room of some half-finished suburban mansion in a housing development that went bankrupt. Who knew why, though the fact that it was in the middle of fucking nowhere probably didn’t help things.
Handy for people planning murder without those pesky witnesses, though.
It was sprawling and we were in the innermost room, the rest of the house crawling with armed men. Wire was right, this guy’s entourage was excessive.
I was pushed down roughly onto a sofa, still covered in plastic. I wondered if that was because the furnishings were too premature or if they’d planned ahead.
Weirdly, I was devoid of fear.
I was full of anger, a lot of it. It pulsated through every part of me like a living thing, urging me to run forward, throat punch one of the men at the door, snatch his weapon and start fighting.
I clenched my fists, willing myself to stay still, remember the people I was saving just by refusing to fight.
Luke’s face popped into my mind.
I wasn’t saving him by giving up.
My decision was damning him to a life of only breathing. Because that’s what I would’ve been doing if I ever lost him. But I had no choice. He would understand.
He would forgive me.
Hopefully.
The door opened and the man from the photograph walked in. He was unassuming, not at all the picture of some sort of cruel evil villain.
Which was always the way. The absolute worst of humankind never looked evil. That was kind of the point.
“Rosie,” he said, his smooth voice only holding a hint of an accent.
I smiled. “Misogynistic, murderous asshole,” I greeted back.
His façade didn’t flicker. “Ah, there’s the spirit I’ve heard so much about.”
He sat next to me on the sofa, bringing with him the scent of an expensive aftershave. I somehow expected him to smell like rot and decay and all of his evil deeds, decomposing on his soul from underneath his skin.
I wanted to shrink away from his proximity, but I stayed strong, jutting my chin out. My knife burned into my leg, begging me to use it, end it all now. But I guessed the man with the sniper rifle at the door wasn’t just there for decoration, and I’d be dead before the knife found its home. Men like this didn’t take risks unless they were sure they could come out alive. It was the way with cockroaches.
“I really don’t want to hear the evil genius speech,” I said instead of stabbing him in the neck. “If you’d just put the bullet in my head, I’d really appreciate it.”
He paused, then chuckled throatily. “You think we brought you here to kill you?”
“Well I sure hope you plan on it, for your sake,” I shot back. “Because you pointed a gun at my four-year-old niece. Came into my brother’s home where his children and his wife sleep. Trudged your filth and evil into a good home. Scared my sister to death when she’s had enough fear in her life.” I paused. “She’ll never forget that. Watching her baby girl almost get snatched from the earth, realizing she couldn’t protect her. You did that. So yeah, I hope you’re planning on killing me. Because if you let me walk out that door, I’ll make it my life’s mission to take down you and every single asshole you care about,” I promised.