Page 47 of My Silver Fox Savior

“Is that so?”

“I will fucking end you,” I snap.

Damon snorts and gestures to the room behind him. “If you fire a single shot, what do you think happens to those kids there?”

“Do you have any idea how sick you are?”

“We’re playing video games. Relax.”

“Is that why she’s crying?”

“I want to go home,” the girl whimpers, squeezing herself against the wall like she thinks she will disappear.

“Let all the kids out. Now.”

“If you shoot me, you’re a dead man.”

I walk forward slowly, my gun trained on him the whole time, waiting for any movement. He’s got his hands up. The closer I get, the more terrified he looks.

“Make a move,” I say when I’m halfway down the hallway. “Give me a fucking excuse. You’ve been around killers before. Look at me and tell me I’m bluffing.”

He swallows as I dart my hand out and grab the front of his shirt. I pull him roughly against me and then wrap an arm around him, putting my gun to his head. Then I kick the door open the rest of the way to find a small entertainment room, a flat-screen TV on one wall with a video game setup with the kids huddled around it.

Men stand in a circle around the kids, none of them with their guns out, but all with hands near their hips, the implication clear.

“You’re all pathetic,” I snap. “You’re allscum.Those kids are all walking out of here right now. They’re going home. If you try to stop them, I’m going to kill your boss right here.”

None of them laugh or show any sign that they think I’m bluffing. They exchange looks of complete horror. They know another killer when they see one. They know I’m more than capable of doing this. They must be able to tell.

“Boss?” one of the men grunts.

Damon stiffens against me. “Go on, kids. Go on home. Fun time’s over. Little Gracey ruined it for you all.”

Grace. The girl in the hallway. That was the name Lily gave me when this started, the moment I saw her again after all those years. Grace is the girl trying to do the right thing.

The kids stand, all looking petrified, more like cattle than children. They walk in a docile way out of the door and down thehallway. I look behind me, watching them leave, keeping the gun to Damon’s head the whole time.

“Now what, tough guy?” Damon says, doing a half-decent job of hiding the fear from his voice, but there’s nothing he can do about the stiffness in his body. He can’t hide that.

“Now, you shut The Bear down and never come back.”

“Ha ha,” Damon says.

“Tell your cartel buddies you waited too long. The place got too hot. You’ll have to find somewhere else.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I slowly back out of the room, keeping Damon close, never relieving the pressure of the pistol’s barrel against the side of his head. He needs to understand that I’ll pull the trigger any time. His men stalk after me slowly, cramming into the hallway, all looking ready.

“Going to be difficult to walk backward up those steps, buddy,” Damon says.

“We’ll figure it out,” I grunt, backstepping as I drag him after me.

He groans and struggles not to fall on his ass, but I keep dragging him until we’re in the cold night air. It feels like an eternity since we’ve been down there. The kids are walking across the street, all except the girl with the red braid, who lingers near a trashcan. Damon’s man is leaning against the wall, his hand on his head, looking confused.

“Go home,” I snap at the girl, Grace.

The girl’s voice is hollow, too jaded for anyone her age or anybody. “Shoot him, mister. Shoot him!”

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