Somewhere in Los Angeles

Gracie ran as fast as she could, her skin prickling with the fear that a bullet would soon smash through it. When she reached the fence at the back of the property, she managed to vault it before landing painfully on the hard concrete of the alley. She wasn’t quite sure what to do next. She was a woman in her underwear standing in the middle of an alley in Beverly Hills. Knocking on doors probably wouldn’t be a good idea, but waving down a car would either get her raped or arrested.

Durango was still in that house, still trapped with that psychopath. She had to get help.

She looked around, walking slowly down the alley with her arms wrapped around her body, wishing for the first time that she hadn’t developed a preference for thong underwear. Her ears strained to hear gun fire, her heart convinced that Billy would just shoot Durango and come after her. He was insane, his actions unpredictable. But then she soothed her fears with the idea that shooting Durango was a predictable behavior. Perhaps, with that argument, he would be safe.

At the end of the alley, she came to a side street that dead ended half a block down. She turned that way because there was a dark sedan parked in the dirt patch behind the last house on the block. Maybe someone would have left the keys in it. Her luck was never that good, but she could always hope. Nothing wrong with wishful thinking.

She approached the car cautiously, making sure it was unoccupied. Much to her surprise, she discovered it was. And then her heart sank.

There were two men in the car. Both had a single bullet hole to the forehead.

He must have caught them by surprise and then moved the car himself. The driver’s seat was empty, the seat pushed back far enough to accommodate a tall man. Just like Billy.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she leaned in and searched the passenger’s jacket pockets for a cell phone. Now she knew why there hadn’t been cops posted on Billy’s house. She wondered why someone hadn’t come to see why these guys weren’t checking in. Didn’t someone miss them?

There was no phone on this guy. The one in the back, though, had car keys in his pocket. Not to this car, but it suggested he might have another car nearby. And his jacket was hanging over the back of the seat. She slipped it out, pulled it on. At least she’d get fewer odd looks walking around like this. Wasn’t this a fashion statement a few years ago?

As she suspected, none of the keys on this ring fit this car. Billy had probably taken the keys with him, just like he must have taken their cell phones. There was no radio, either, nothing she could use to call for help. The whole thing was damn useless. They didn’t even have guns.

She turned and ran back up the street, fear allowing her to ignore the pain on her feet. She didn’t go barefoot often anymore. Her feet no longer had the calluses that had allowed her to run wild without her shoes when she was a kid. She ran over rocks and burning asphalt, her only thought on Durango and his last word to her. Run. She thought he was right behind her, but then saw him turn and raise his hands in surrender. He’d stayed behind, but only after he made sure she was safe. What did that mean? Why would he do that?

He wanted to believe his brother was a good man, but Billy stole that from him with the things he’d said up in that bedroom. There couldn’t be any doubt left for Durango that Billy was the one who’d ruined his life, who’d taken Sarah from him. What would he do with that information? Would he try to help his brother, the man he wanted to believe was good deep down inside? Or would he punish him for the crimes that had ruined Durango’s career, that had taken his true love from him?

She wasn’t sure. But she couldn’t let him do something he couldn’t live with.

A few people were out, cars rushing by too fast for the posted speed limit. No one was interested in stopping for a woman dressed in a man’s suit coat. But she didn’t want them to stop. She was more interested in the car that went with the keys she’d found on that cop.

She pressed the button each time she came to a parked car, the button that would unlock the doors and flash the lights. It took four tries, but she finally found it.

“Didn’t think of that, did you, Billy?”

She climbed behind the wheel of a small SUV and began searching. If Billy didn’t know about this car, he wouldn’t have taken a backup weapon that might be hidden in the glove box, or a burner phone that a cop would use to call his mistress. She didn’t find a phone, but she found a gun.

Progress.

She ejected the clip and was counting the rounds when Billy’s gate opened. A Mercedes, a late-model sedan, pulled through. She just barely caught sight of Durango behind the wheel before she ducked down, moving out of sight so that they wouldn’t see her.

Where were they going?

Her life for a fucking cell phone!

She started the car, her only choice to follow. She couldn’t allow Durango out of her sight. What if he said the wrong thing and Billy lost his temper? She couldn’t let that happen. She’d brought him this far, she couldn’t lose him now.

She needed to end this. Now. Here. Today.