Page 80 of Burn for Me

‘They used the south entrance, I imagine they’ll have us use the same one.’

‘What if he recognises you?’ I asked.

‘He’s bound to see the differences between the dead guy and I, we won’t have much time. You have the syringes?’ He asked, trying to focus me back onto the task.

I nodded. Three syringes were fixed into the belt of my dress, hopefully small enough that I’d get past a brief pat down if they inflicted one.

‘Just stick one in anyone who grabs you if things take a turn. I have the gun and ammo, I’ll deal with the others.’

The plan was as simple as it was risky. Take out the four outside, the second two only after they’d given a call through to Massimo, assuming they had one at all. Then as soon as we got close enough, let Massimo grab me. While he was tied up with me, Phoenix would kill the other two. We needed to catch them by surprise for any chance at not having our brains blown out.

Minutes ticked by, my palms growing sweatier by the second.

Phoenix came and sat beside me, slipping one scarred hand into my palm. A gentle squeeze made me smile.

‘Remember what I told you?’ He asked.

‘Bite off more than you can chew, and then chew like fuck?’ The saying was stupid, but I could see what he meant. It was all or nothing. We went down guns blazing, or we won. No in between.

‘Don’t forget for a moment that I adore you,’ Phoenix whispered, his mouth closing the gap between us and tracing his words against my neck.

The phone buzzed again, Massimo’s words flashing up on the screen. ‘Time to hand over the goods.’

I chewed on my bottom lip before looking up at Phoenix. He reached over to the table and grabbed the stolen mask.

‘I could still go on my own…’ he said, nerves evident in the timber of his voice now that the time to put our plan into action was upon us.

‘No.’ I pushed a steel I didn’t fully believe into my voice. ‘Time to chew like fuck, Phoenix.’

Feeling like we were walking toward our own execution, I pulled my shoulders back and smoothed my hair over my shoulder. The dress was new, cinching me in at the waist which only made my ass and bust seem even larger. Phoenix had assured me it would leave mouths hanging. I’d spent so many weeks in nothing but shorts and T-shirts that I felt like I was reviving some long dead version of me.

Every step made my knees wobble, whether from my stilettos or the fear, I didn’t know.

I looked the part. Every bit a potential mafia wife.

I was hoping Massimo underestimated the true part of it that he’d overlooked.

Those women were fucking deadly.

FORTY-TWO

Phoenix

The two men at the rear of the warehouse were too easy to dispatch. I thought a man like Massimo would be less sloppy. They were distracted watching fucking football gathered around one of their phones. I’d crept up on them right as the commentator started speaking at a head-achingly quick pace, excitement in the tinny voice.

They never got to see the goal.

I wiped the knife off on one of their jackets, tucking it back into the sleeve of my jumper, it’s switchblade once again concealed.

Thank god for the black clothing. The edge of my sleeve was sodden with warm blood, invisible in the dark alley, at least.

I dragged the bodies to the rear of a dumpster before nodding at Laura. I took her arm roughly in my hand, manhandling her round to the main entrance of thewarehouse. She teetered on ridiculous heels, and two sets of eyes greeted us as big as saucers.

‘Well, shit, no wonder the boss man wanted her back.’ One said, nudging the other.

‘Shame about the scar on her tit.’ The other nodded toward the now healed bullet wound. ‘Still, the tits are fuckable at least.’

Don’t react.

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