Page 46 of Dance with the Devil

SIXTEEN

ESCAPE

CROSS

After three weeks in a fishbowl of a cell, it took a single gunshot to shatter my butterfly.

I saw it happen. I was helpless to prevent it. So determined to keep Genevieve out of the line of fire, I pushed her out of the way after Noah’s gun went off. The bang was explosive, the shower of cinderblock dust for where he struck the wall raining down on my hair, but all I could think about was getting Genevieve down.

I overcompensated in my panic. She moved out of the way, but I lost my balance, falling to my knees. At the same time, Savannah got bowled over after she threw the blanket in Noah’s face to distract him and he barreled into her. A fucking comedy of errors, with the outcome being that Noah’s gun skittered its way in front of Genevieve and my butterfly picked it up.

Savannah shouted at her to shoot, and she did, and I watched herbreak.

I could blame Damien Libellula for keeping her so coddled and under wraps that she found the life fascinating, without ever facing the realities of it. She got her first glimpse when we wereran off the road and taken captive. Another glimpse when they starved us for days before bringing food down in an obvious ploy to manipulate Genevieve into sucking off the guards.

Then I did, and seeing the brutality I was capable of didn’t turn her against me. I thought it would, but Genevieve always understood that life in the gangs was rough. I protected her and that’s all that mattered. Even after they made me rape her—because that’s what it was, it wasrapebecause prisoners can’t consent and I should’ve fought harder to keep her from what happened—she excused my behavior.

But I know this woman. She’s made of fire and light, music and joy, and though three weeks in this hell didn’t quite steal that from her, seeing the aftermath of how brutalshecould be…

As I push myself off of the floor as Noah drops down dead, I know that that just might’ve done it.

Genevieve is no trained marksman. She didn’t even know I carried until I admitted that they stole my weapon while we’re unconscious, and she admitted that she’s never even held a gun before. For a first timer, she couldn’t have made a better shot.

Proximity had a lot to do with it. That close, she couldn’t miss Noah, and the shot got him dead center. He was gone before he hit the floor, leaving a bloody mess and a visible shaken Genevieve holding his gun.

Savannah slowly rises as I take the gun from Genevieve. She doesn’t resist. Trembling, her pale blue eyes staring straight ahead as if she can’t see a thing, I remove her fingers from the handle and switch the gun from her grasp to mine.

“Butterfly,” I whisper, using my nickname for her to get her attention. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it hadn’t worked, but she blinks once, her sight coming back to her as she looks up at me in ill-concealed panic. I make a soothing noise and use my free hand to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

I just hope I’m not lying when, as soon as the final echoes of the gunshot die down, I hear more footsteps.

These ones are welcome.

Racing for the glass door, punching in the code since it slid shut again, Luca looks from the shell-shocked Genevieve to the dead man on the floor, glances up at the camera, and thins his lips in barely concealed fury.

“He got past me,” he spits out. “I don’t even know how he did. I heard footsteps, but when I got upstairs, I didn’t see anyone. He must’ve slipped right on by when I checked one room, then hit the stairs before I noticed him.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Savannah tells him. “One dead Snowflake, two dead Snowflakes… as soon as we figure out where Winter is, he’ll be another leaf on my bicep. But that’s later. We have to get the fuck out of here before someone else shows up.”

“I did a quick sweep.”

“You take the back and hold on to that gun,” Savannah says to me. Suddenly, she has a stiletto knife in her grip, and I’m too stunned by the sudden turn of events, I can’t even imagine where the hell she got it from. Luca maybe? Who the hell knows? “Luca, grab Gen and keep your gun out, too. Sandwich her between us, keep her safe. I’ve got point.”

“Cross,” breathes out Genevieve. “I need Cross.”

Savannah doesn’t even hesitate. “Right. Cross, stand with Gen. If anyone else comes, we’re getting her out of here. Luca, you’re in the rear.”

No argument from either of us, though as Savannah Libellula gives commands, I have a newfound respect for Genevieve’s brother for not trying to cage a woman like this.

Now if only I could get him to understand that Genevieve deserves to be free, too…

As we finally leave that fucking cell—and Noah—behind, Luca quickly explains the layout upstairs so I know what to expect. Turns out, this is a two-floor compound about as wide as the Libellula manor. The downstairs is specifically designed to host prisoners that Winter decides to shut up down there. Upstairs, he has a lab that worries me, a kitchen, a bedroom that the guards traded off using when they stayed over, and an empty waiting area for anyone who stops by and thinks that Winter Enterprises is a legit business and not just a front for a criminal organization run by a psychopath.

There’s attached storage, too. Luca says that the actual drug part of their operation is in Nevada—because, yup, Winter and his gang are based in Nevada and have just slowly been moving across the United States until they finally hit the East Coast—and this facility was designed to host their gun supply before distribution, though that was shut down before Luca got hired on. As of now, the only reason to keep this compound running on a skeleton crew was because of the cells in the basement, but that’s because Winter has property all over the place.

No wonder the first Winter set his sights on Springfield. If he took out both the Dragonflies and the Sinners, he’d have free rein to push his Breeze and his weapons, and the money and crew to do it since he’s already conquered at least eight other states.

When Devil first saw the snowflake on the butt of an unfamiliar gun, and Rolls warned me to keep an eye out for anyone asking to be tatted with the same mark, both our leader and his second made it seem like the man behind the snowflake was an upstarts, pushing his like targeting Springfield.

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