Page 22 of Xavier

The man behind the bar glances toward the man sitting on the stool.

Simultaneously, they close the gap between them and Everett.

Everett must notice the change in his partners because his face loses all color as if the blood just drained from his face.

“Wait. You don’t want to do anything rash.”

The short man’s face morphs into something sinister. “This is exactly what we want to do. You cross us, we cross you.”

“I didn’t cross you. Please, let’s just continue working with each other. I think we are getting closer to finding the treasure.”

The man pulls a pistol from the waistband of his pants and aims it at Everett. “This is your last chance. Tell us where the treasure is.”

“I don’t know.” Tears form in Everett’s eyes as he realizes his partners are ruthless assholes.

“You’re lying, and you’re going to die for it.” The other man says, egging his partner on.

The man with the gun tightens his grip around the gun as his pointer finger moves to the trigger.

Clamping my eyes shut so I don’t see what is coming next, I hold my breath and say a prayer for Everett.

He might be a criminal, but no one deserves to die like this.

The blast of the gun going off echoes throughout the restaurant. No one speaks.

I crack open my eyes and watch as Everett’s lifeless body slumps to the ground.

Not in a million years would I ever imagine the argument would end with one man being shot.

I feel more confused than I was before the argument. There are more questions floating through my mind than answers, and the one man that could offer some insight is gone, bleeding out on the floor.

I press my hand to my mouth to keep from screaming.

Chapter Six

XAVIER

My past training kicks in automatically. I keep several car lengths between the white jeep and me while taking in any details that I can.

There aren’t many cars on the road, so it’s easier to catch tiny details, like the stores we pass and the streets we turn down.

But on the other hand, since there aren’t many cars on the road, I have to keep farther back than I’d like.

I relay my whereabouts to Hudson, who is still on the other end of the phone.

“We just passed Wes’ tire shop headed west.”

“Where are they going?” He murmurs.

“They wouldn’t really drive by all the businesses, would they?”

Wouldn’t it be too risky for them to be seen? Although they were just seen by a handful of locals as the bait shop.

“They are headed toward the police station.” Hudson says out of the blue.

“Now that is weird and something I’ve never encountered with the cartel before. They usually try to steer clear of the police.”

“Unless they have an insider in the department.”

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