Page 92 of Roaming Holiday

I lunge at the door where a third man steps in, gun in hand. I snatch his wrist, yanking him closer and pressing the gun under his chin before pulling the trigger. My head buzzes from the sound. I shove his body toward the next assailant entering and use that distraction to take him out with my last bullet to the head.

The fifth and final assailant barrels into the room and I manage to push his hands up the second before he pulls the trigger. I hear the bullet strike the ceiling as I take a knife from my pocket to stab him in the gut.

When he doubles over, I meet him in the middle by plunging the blade under his jaw.

Arlo could’ve given me a challenge, at the very least.

I trade guns before hurrying to Nina, whose eyes are still closed. She flinches when I come close, her grip on the knife tightening.

“It’s me; it’s okay. Keep your eyes closed.” I guide her up with a hand over her eyes as we wade through the bloody surroundings. “Just a little longer.”

I remove my hand once we’re out of the room.

“Here!” she exclaims, running to the emergency exit. “This leads out front.”

We rush down the stairs. Pure adrenaline keeps the pain from crippling me. My eyebrow and chest throb. It’s a good thing I wore black today or my shirt would show every drop of blood. Not that the sliced fabric over my heart ruins it enough.

Arlo might be calling reinforcements; we need to get underground fast. When the stairwell dumps us onto the street, I pull Nina into the alley. Firetruck sirens blare in the distance, getting closer with each second.

“Where are we going?” she asks, and I don’t answer; I’m still figuring it out.

Maximo appears from behind the dumpster, and I manage to grab his shirt collar before he can tackle me. We crash into the brick wall and I hear Nina gasp as pain erupts from the wound in my chest.

“RUN!” I yell to her before his fist collides with my face, sending flashes of white across my vision. I land an uppercut and a punch to the kidney that would knock over most. But Maximo, befittingly named after Maldana’s god of war, is a freakishly large man who gets me on the ground far too easily. I grapple with him above me, receiving two more punches until his head suddenly jerks aside, blood spattering onto my face as he’s bludgeoned by an object.

Stunned, I nearly get trapped beneath his unconscious body. Nina stands to my right, panting, with a metal pipe in hand. Her hair is frizzy but her jaw is tight.

“I told you to run,” I say.

She drops the weapon and offers a hand to help me up. “I will do everything you say—except leave you behind.” She stares at Maximo’s limp body as blood spills from the wound. “Is he dead?”

“Brain damage? Yes. Kill him? No.” Maybe. But that won’t make her feel better. At her shaken expression, I snatch his arm and reveal his tattoo of a snake wrapped around a cross. “Look. This tattoo means he either works or used to work with Vitalis. They’re human traffickers.”

They’re the organization that Santiago did business with, the reason I went to the authorities.

She inhales a sharp breath and defiantly says, “I hope I killed him.”

46

NINA

We speed-walk through the streets, sticking to alleys where we can. My heart has been in my throat for the last five minutes. Wesley has his arm around me, his head bowed.

“Can you tell me where we’re going now?” I ask as he guides us through a cramped outdoor market.

“We have to get underground, but there are more people following us.”

A pang of fright echoes through me. I want this to end. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He glances over his shoulder while we turn a corner. “Just stay calm.”

I hold him tighter. “Easier said than done.”

This is a market I’d peruse for souvenirs for Raven or unique dresses for myself. Never in a thousand years would I think I’d escape a group of murderous criminals while under the arm of the hitman-turned-bodyguard I fell in love with. I’m ready to wake up in my bed at any moment.

When we reach an intersection, Wesley suddenly shoves me as a man lurches into the space between us. The crowd opens up as he defends himself from the attacker. I frantically search for someone, something, anything that might help.

People look at me both frightened and confused, but I grab a mango from a fruit stand and chuck it at the man attacking Wesley. It hits him in the ribs, distracting him for a fraction of a second that Wesley uses to get the upper hand.

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