CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

ALICIA

“I’m never watching another action movie,” I swore to Emilia, who trembled just as hard as I did beside me. I remembered having the same sentiment during my last gunfight, and I couldn’t really believe that I was stuck in yet another one.

Gunshots popped outside, muted from the thick walls surrounding the cellar. The air in there was cool and musty, the walls lined with shelves of dusty bottles. The concrete floor was hard beneath my ass where we were seated around a corner from the wooden steps that led into the cellar.

An explosion ripped through the air, followed by more gunshots.

At least the fact that there were more shots being fired had to mean that Nick had survived whatever that blast had been. I prayed that I was right.

My stomach was wound tight with nerves, and it felt like my heart was stuck in one of those medieval torture devices that pulled people apart. I forgot what it was called, then mentally chastised myself for even wondering, given the situation we were caught up in.

Glass shattered from somewhere upstairs, and Emilia and I both cringed. More gunshots rang out as glass kept exploding. It was like the soundtrack to a fight scene in a movie was booming from the speakers that were sunk into the walls.

But this wasn’t a movie. This was my life. Nick’s life. Emilia’s life. I squeezed my eyes shut to avoid the painful reminder. My heart was pulled tighter, stretched almost to the breaking point from the knowledge that Nick was out there, that any minute the gunfire could stop. That any one of those pops could be the one that would end his life.

A layer of cold sweat covered my body, and I shivered, goosebumps rising all over my skin.

Please let him be okay.

“Alicia!” a taunting, harsh voice called from upstairs. “Alicia Graystone! We’re going to find you, bitch. Come out now, and we’ll make your death a quick one.”

“Or stay hidden, and we’ll draw it out nice and slow. Maybe we’ll even make you watch us torture your boy out there, once we get the fucker pinned down,” another coarse voice said.

Something crashed onto the floor above, causing the ceiling above my head to shake and small specks of dust to come raining down onto my head. Relief mingled with terror in my blood.

Nick is still alive.

But they’re inside. They’re going to find me.

Emilia’s eyes grew wide. “Hide. You have to hide.”

“No, I’m not leaving you behind,” I snapped at her. “We’ve been through this.”

Tears were spilling from her eyes, cascading like a waterfall down her cheeks. “I know, but the least I can do is stand in front of the door while you stay out of sight. That way, if anyone comes through the door shooting, I will be the first to die.”

“That’s not happening,” I told her firmly, reaching for her clammy hand. “Besides, they know what I look like. It’s not like they would mistake you for me. They would just keep going until they found me anyway.”

The absurdity of the fact that I was caught up in a situation where those words were needed didn’t escape me. “Now those are some words I never thought I would say.”

Emilia looked over at me like I’d grown a second head or sprouted antlers. She squeezed my hand. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“No, it’s not. You didn’t kidnap or threaten your own son, did you? None of this is your fault. It’s not even my father’s, not all of it anyway. This is all on those guys out there who are trying to kill us.” My voice was surprisingly calm.

Emilia shook her head. “But they found you because of me.”

“They would’ve found me eventually, anyway. I’m sure of it. You didn’t have a choice but to do what they said, Emilia. I get that. I’ve already forgiven you for it.” I gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I promise. If it was someone I loved that was being held hostage, I never would’ve held out as long as you did.”

“I tried everything I could,” Emilia confessed.

“I know you did,” I told her softly. “I know you never would’ve done it if they didn’t have your son.”

“Never,” she breathed, more tears flowing down her face.

Another loud crash shook the ceiling above our heads, and both Emilia and I cowered in our corner. The gunfire had stopped, I realized.

My blood froze in my veins, and I felt lightheaded.

Does that mean…

“Oh god,” I choked out. My chest seized up, and I had to wrap my arms around my stomach, as if I could physically keep myself from falling apart. Agonizing pain tore through my heart, so intense that I felt like it was going to rip me apart from the inside out.

No. It couldn’t be. I shook my head hard and fast. There had to be another reason for the gunshots stopping. There just had to be.

Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I shook my head over and over again, trying to clear the sound of my heart beating in my ears as I faintly heard one of the voices calling from upstairs. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Heavy footsteps fell above us, sounding like they were headed in the direction of the door to the wine cellar. Emilia’s grip on my hand tightened so much that my hand felt like it was about to pop. The sound of the door being kicked open as it crashed into the wall thundered through the air.

Emilia and I both rose to our feet, raising the guns Nick had given us in shaky hands. The heavy footfalls fell on the wooden steps, echoing in the quiet room.

“You hiding out down here, sweetheart?” An ominous voice called out, then he rounded the corner to find Emilia and I brandishing the guns. The man who stepped around the corner was as big as a house, easily as tall as Nick and probably twice as wide. His eyes were completely black, perched narrowly above a very crooked nose, and his yellowed teeth were revealed from the sneer on his lips. His uniform was as black as his eyes, stretching over bulging muscles and a slight paunch in his stomach. His acrid stench drifted to my nostrils, nearly making me puke on his boots. It was a mixture of smoke and old sweat.

How many of these monsters had Nick faced by himself?

“I found her!” the man called out to someone who didn’t answer. He stepped closer to us, and Emilia and I mirrored the movement, our backs up against the wall.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” He sneered, looking down at my violently shaking hands with the gun clasped between them. A humorless laugh bellowed from his beefy chest. “What? Are you going to shoot me, little girl?”

He took another step forward, holding out his arms to his sides. “Go on then, let’s see you pull that trigger, hmm?”

“Who… who says I won’t?” I stammered, trying my best to be brave. To stall. It was our best chance of survival until the cops arrived. Or Nick did, but I couldn’t let myself think about what it meant if he didn’t, or I would completely lose it.

The man pointed a stubby thumb at his chest. “I do. You’re not going to shoot me. Lower that gun before you hurt yourself.”

“Why do you care if I hurt myself?” Keep him talking. It was a shitty fucking plan, but it was the only one I had. He was right, even if I did have the gun pointed right at his chest, I wasn’t going to shoot him.

An evil gleam entered the man’s eye. “I don’t care. In fact, I plan on hurting you myself, so it would be a pity if you beat me to it.”

His gaze flickered to the ceiling of the cellar, and he huffed out. “Did you hear me, Torch? I said I found the fucking girl!”

There was no movement upstairs. No one answered. A confused look crossed the man’s features before a menacing one replaced it, and he turned it on me. “It’s nothing personal. Just business, you know.”

He shrugged and then continued. “Your father’s a rat, and unfortunately, that means the whole, regretfully tiny family has to pay for his mistakes. Can’t afford to have word getting out on the street that the kind of shit ol’ Warren pulled goes without retaliation. So, be a good girl for me, and stay put while I go get my associate, won’t ya?”

I shook my head, and he smirked. “Oh, but I think you will. Or else.”

A shiver of horror ran through me at his words.

Or else. I couldn’t even comprehend what he was intending on doing to me.

The man shot me a vomit- inducing look and turned back toward the stairs. “Torch! You fucker. Come down here, or I’m having all the fun tonight by myself.”

He crept up the first few steps, the wood creaking under his massive frame. Out of nowhere, Nick launched himself like a cannonball down the stairs, his body slamming into the attacker’s with so much force that they flew right into the shelves on the wall across.

Wine bottles went crashing to the floor, red wine flowing like blood and seeping into the concrete floor. Nick’s fists flew into the man’s face the second they landed, sending a stream of actual blood flying to mix with the wine on the floor.

Relief that Nick was there, that he was alive, quickly transformed to fear that he was going to be hurt. Or worse.

The man kept fighting, his meaty fists barreling into Nick’s side, finally connecting with his jaw. Nick grunted, but he seemed to be in a trance of some kind. He was kicking, punching, and struggling. The men were moving so fast that I had no clue who was winning. I squinted to narrow in on Nick.

He looked like hell, and the grip around my heart squeezed. His suit was ripped and filthy, stained with dirt and what looked like thick, wet blood.

My throat closed up. Surely it couldn’t have been his blood? If he had lost that amount of blood, there was no way he would’ve been able to be fighting like a damn machine right there in front of me.

Nick’s suit was, however, the least of my worries. His dark eyebrow was split above his right eye, which was already swelling shut. There were cuts on his hands and cheeks and a trickle of blood at the side of his mouth.

Fuck, he was hurt. My mind tried to shut down, but I wouldn’t let it. I would let the paralyzing fear for Nick’s injuries drive me instead of triggering the mental break it was threatening to cause. I swallowed. Hard. If anything happened to him…

No.

I had to help him, just like I did last time. He didn’t call me his warrior princess for nothing. I told him that I wanted to fight with him, and I did. My eyes searched for something, anything that I could use as a weapon.

The only thing I could think of was one of the broken bottles. I leaped forward, grabbing one and moving as quickly as I could toward the men wrestling on the ground. I was so close. I raised my hands, gripping the bottle tight, just about to raise it and bury it in the man’s back when a gunshot rang out.

It came from right there in front of me.

Fuck.

Nick.

Terror gripped my entire body as I froze in place, unable to move as my world came crashing down around me.