Talia

“Wake up!” a man’s snaps in my ear right before a splash of ice cold water hits my face.

I gasp and my eyes fly open. I’m sitting in a chair with my wrists bound together in my lap. I bend my fingers around and feel a hard plastic band, probably a Zip Tie. Everything is blurry and I blink several times trying to get my vision to focus.

A man is standing in front of me. He’s dark-headed, but I can’t make out any features other than his overall shape. My head feels like it’s full of fuzz and my mouth is so dry I actually lick the water off my lips just so I have enough spit to swallow.

“Water,” I croak and a bottle is pressed against my lips. I drink several gulps before it’s taken away. My heart races once my basic survival needs are met. Where am I? Who has taken me? Why? I open and close my eyes several times, but my vision never clears. Panicking, my breathing ramps even faster than my heart’s beating. “Why can’t I see?”

He moves closer and waves a hand in front of my face. “You can’t see me?”

He thinks I can’t see at all? I try not to track his hand movement and keep my gaze slightly lowered as I shake my head and exaggerate my worry to I’m-freaking-out mode. I twist in the chair, looking left and then right. “What’s wrong with my vision?”

“Must be the gas we used,” he mutters.

We? He’s working with someone. Why does his voice sound familiar? “Who are you? What do you want?” I say in a much stronger voice than I feel.

“Just calm down. Once Banks is taken care of, you’ll be fine.”

The mention of Banks gives me a context for the voice. Paulo. Banks’s second in command. Is he here on Banks’s orders? Pretending I don’t know who I’m talking to won’t help me get answers, so I say, “Paulo?”

“The one and only.”

I fold my hands together to force myself to remain calm. He’s already killed once. I don’t need to rile him. “Was that bombing that happened outside the church some kind of screwed up revenge against Sebastian? What do you mean once Banks is taken care of?”

“Revenge?” the guy snorts and pulls a seat up in front of me. “No, Talia, this is about what I deserve. Sebastian has been targeted, but not in the way you think. Banks needs to retire and let the young bloods lead. Under my leadership, the boys will thrive and be what they once were before Banksy went soft.”

Standing, he shoves his hands in his pants pockets and paces behind the chair. “What kind of crew doesn’t carry guns? Or run drugs in their neighborhood?” He pauses to put his hands on the back of the chair and expels an annoyed snort. “Banks’s Boys are the only fucking ones! We may as well be a boy band. It’s a fucking miracle our whole crew hasn’t been gunned down before now.”

“You don’t have guns in your house at all?” That does surprise me.

“Of course we have guns, but Banks made it a rule to keep them put away and that we’re not allowed to be strapped. He said it’s the fastest way to get ourselves killed.” He lets out a derisive laugh. “I’ll bet Derrick, who was shot and killed coming back from a club last month, would argue with that pussy philosophy.”

Paulo slams his fist onto the table next to me, making me jump. “We need to be stronger. We need to be armed, not just with knives. We should fucking own the neighborhood, not just look like we do. All this is about to change!”

“How do you plan to change it?”

“By getting rid of Banks.”

“Why does he have to go?” Anxious, I lean forward and something jabs into my breast. Then I remember Den’s pen that I’d put in my bra. I’m not sure what it does, but I feel better just knowing it’s there.

Paulo steps forward and puts a hand on my shoulder. Pushing me back against the seat, he waves a gun in front of me. “You can’t see it, but I’m holding a gun. Stay there if you don’t want to get hurt.” Snorting, he backs away and sets the gun on the table. “It’s not like you can see to get very far.”

Since he didn’t answer my question, I give him my opinion anyway. “Killing Banks won’t get you what you want. You know his boys are loyal to him. What makes you think they’ll be loyal to you after you kill their leader?”

He tsks. “I’m not the one who’s going to kill him. Your husband’s going to do it for me.”

“What?” When I shake my head in fast jerks, my stomach lurches, but my vision is also starting to clear. “Sebastian will never do that.” As Paulo’s spiked, short hair takes shape, I lower my gaze so he can’t see that I’m trying to take in my surroundings: door with a flip latch, a bed to my left, window and small table to the right. Water damage along the walls near the door and the faint smell of mildew in the air. We’re in a motel room.

“Oh, but he’s already agreed. I’m just waiting for confirmation.”

The idea Sebastian would kill an innocent person to save me makes me feel light-headed. Stop thinking about it. Trust in him and stay focused. “You said we earlier,” I say. “Who is we?”

Paulo laughs and sits back down in the chair facing me. “Let’s just say I’ll have the very best connections. Not only that, but I’ll be running his guns and drugs through my neighborhood. It’s going to be a perfect, untouchable partnership.”

Untouchable? Is that why he doesn’t seem to be worried that Sebastian will come after him? Is this guy mafia? Or God, do they plan to get rid of Sebastian too? I tilt my head and stare slightly away from his face so he can’t see my concern growing. “If you’re so untouchable, why didn’t you take Banks out yourself?”

“I don’t kill. Banks and Blackie have history. I figured your husband might even enjoy this job.”

No, you’re weak and you’d rather have others do your dirty work for you. “But you’ve already killed!” It’s hard not to jerk my gaze to his, but I catch myself before I make that mistake. “Isabel Blake is dead because of you.”

Paulo looks away and shakes his head. “That wasn’t how it was supposed to go down.”

“You put the bomb on the gas tank flap, so of course a spark will blow the gas. What else did you expect would happen?”

Paulo starts to speak but he gets a text. Glancing down at his phone, he looks at me, a sudden grin on his face as he reads me the text. “Gun shots at Banks’s house. Men yelling. Neighbors must’ve called the police. Sirens on their way.” Paulo’s phone begins to beep with an incoming video call.

“Showtime!” he says, dark eyes lighting up as he turns his chair around. Sitting beside me close enough for “selfie” mode, he hits the button to answer, but quickly flips the camera so all the caller sees is the dingy hotel wall.

Sebastian appears to be standing on what looks like the porch of Banks’s house. Glass is everywhere under his feet. He looks pissed as hell. “I want proof that my wife is unharmed.”

“You were only supposed to call me once the job was done,” Paulo snaps, his voice jumping an octave. “If I don’t see proof in two seconds…” He picks up the gun and moves it before the front-facing camera.”

Sebastian’s face sets in hard lines, suppressed fury evident. I’m so worried, I call out. “I’m here, Sebastian. Please don’t do this!”

Paulo quickly sets the gun down on the table, then clamps his hand painfully over my mouth and chin, locking me in place. “Enough! Is it done? Show me.”

Sebastian pans the camera over the porch and Banks is laying on his back, half inside the doorway. Eyes staring sightlessly upward, his nose and face a bloody mess and his shirt torn and matted with way too much blood.

I gasp behind Paulo’s hand, tears filling my eyes. No, Sebastian! This can’t be true.

“I’ve done my part, but to assure you do yours and let Talia go…” Turning the camera back to himself, Sebastian’s blue eyes narrow as he pans the camera back some and we see Calder hand him a lit Molotov cocktail.

“What the fuck!” Paulo yells, pounding his fist on the arm of my chair. “That’s not part of the deal!”

“The house and everyone inside is now yours.” Sebastian tosses the bottle inside the house through the broken window. A burst of flames quickly licks up from the floor and along the windowsill as dark smoke billows out the window. “Release Talia and leave now if you want to save it.”

The moment Sebastian hangs up, I grab the gun and throw it as hard as I can at the window. The glass shatters in a loud crash and Paulo whirls on me, fury stamped on his face.

I duck, evading his swinging fist, and bolt for the door.

He grabs my hair and yanks me back. “You saw that, you lying bitch!”

Just as he hauls me against him, wrapping his arm tight around my neck, a man says in a harsh tone, “Let her go, right now.”

Den and another man with dark hair and piercing gray eyes stand just outside the broken window, their guns drawn.

Paulo lets out a maniacal laugh. “You’re not going to do shit. Sebastian will kill you both if anything happens to her. She goes with me or I’ll snap her neck where we stand,” he says, tightening his arm. “Move, Talia!”

Unfortunately, he’s just short enough to hunch and keep his head and body behind mine. While he shuffles us toward the door, I fold my bound wrists to my chest and work the pen from the bottom of my bra while Paulo’s distracted.

When Den sees the pen curled tight in my hands, he nods and lowers his gun. “Let them go,” he says in a calm tone. Elijah glances his way and frowns, but then lowers his weapon as well.

The moment we walk through the doorway onto the sidewalk, I swing my bound hands in an upward arc, aiming the pen right for Paulo’s head.

Paulo lets out a horrific yell and releases me to fall against the wall, grabbing his injured, bleeding face. “My eye! My eye! You bitch. I’ll kill everyone you care about!”

Still pumped on adrenaline, I shout, “Don’t threaten my family.” I turn with my arm raised, ready to lash out at him once more.

Den captures my arm before I can connect. Pulling me away, he traps me against his solid frame with an arm around my shoulder. “You’re okay, Talia. He’s down.”

Keeping his gun trained on Paulo, Elijah pulls his phone out, his eyes sliding over to me with wary respect. “Remind me to never piss you off.”

“Nice to finally meet you in person too, Elijah,” I say with an embarrassed half-smile. He really did just see me at my absolute worst.

While Elijah rattles off the address to the police, Den releases me to walk into the motel room and retrieve a couple hand towels from the bathroom. Hauling Paulo to his feet, Den shoves a towel in Paulo’s hands, then walks over to me, holding the other one—doused with soap and water—out, his tone soft but proud as he takes the pen from my shaking hands. “This pen was meant to be used as a tracker.”

“I improvised.” My bravado falters when I glance down to wipe my hands on the towel. The sight of Paulo’s bright red blood brings home how lucky I was that Den found me, making my legs shake a little. I’m so glad I didn’t have to find out what Paulo would’ve done if I hadn’t thrown his gun through the window. Den’s beside me instantly, holding my arm until I nod that my legs aren’t going to fail me.

Exhaling, he squeezes my arm. “Are you sure you’re steady now?”

“I’m good.” I study his face. He looks worried and a bit tired. “Are you okay? It took some time for my vision to fully return once I woke up.”

He nods. “Whatever they used to gas us was high tech and something I’ve never seen.” Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he hands it to me. “Sebastian wants to talk to you.”

Both relieved and anxious, I walk away from the men and put the phone to my ear. “Were you on the phone the whole time?”

“Of course. Are you truly okay, Talia? That backstabbing little shit deserves to be shot.”

His protective comment makes me feel warm inside. “I’m fine.”

“I still want you checked out by an EMT when the ambulance gets there. Calder and I are on our way to you now.”

The sound of him shifting gears finally filters through. “Please tell me that you didn’t really kill Banks, Sebastian,” I whisper.

“I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe, Little Red.”

Tears mist in my eyes, but I hold them back. “But not like this.”

“I won’t say I didn’t enjoy getting in some well overdue punches. Banks sure as hell deserved them, but no…he’s very much alive.”

Gulping my relief, I glance back to see the ambulance has arrived ahead of the police. “And the house and everyone else?”

“No one was harmed. It was a contained fire. We planned it to look much worse from the outside than it was. We knew we were being watched.”

“Someone was feeding Paulo info via text. Paulo intended to run guns and drugs for a partner. I hope Paulo will give up whoever his partner is now that he’s going to be arrested.”

“Tell Elijah to grab Paulo’s phone before the police get there. We might be able to trace it back to his partner ourselves.”

I smirk when I see Den slip Elijah Paulo’s cell. That’s what he was doing when he handed Paulo that towel. “Already on it. I’m glad you’re coming.”

“Be there in five, sweetheart.”

Hanging up, I exhale a deep breath that Sebastian didn’t have to cross a line on my behalf, and that we’ve at least caught one of the people responsible for Isabel’s death.