Page 59 of Vow of Silence

He stares out the windshield, brow hard as he studies the property.

There are houses on either side, but at least fifty feet between the buildings. Junk litters the space, car bodies are overgrown with weeds, and general household rubbish is left where it fell from overstuffed trash cans. The people around here don’tprioritize cleanliness, which means one of two things: they don’t care, or they don’t know any better. Maybe it’s both?

I scan the yard but fail to see any sign of the sedan from the night I was attacked.

“How many people are there aside from the two men?” I note a dog standing at the fence to the left, keen eyes on us while waiting for Benito and me to make our next move. “Are you worried about witnesses?”

People come and go from here all the time.

He needn’t say any more—I can imagine why.

The cops who work these streets are on our payroll.

So, the De Santis have protection from the law. A bribed blind eye. “How many others?” I ask again.

Benito sighs, rolling his head to face me before he answers.

I don’t know. I think there are three. At least one is at work.

I meet his calm gaze with wide eyes. “There are only two of us.”Yeah—well done, Stas. State the obvious.“How does that work?”

Leave it to me. You stay behind my shoulder.

I can’t breathe right. There’s a weight on my chest I can’t shift. Nothing physically there for me to remove. How do I take away something I can’t touch?

Do you know how to shoot?

My palms sweat, and strangely, my breathing eases, my pulse slowing. “I do.”

This is yours.

He taps out the message before leaning across me to reach beneath the glove compartment. The sound of Velcro tearing precedes his hand re-emerging with a sleek Glock against his palm.

I take the offered weapon and glance at Benito before testing the weight in my hand. He watches me while I familiarize myself with the handgun, his gaze flicking to the house every so often. I remove the magazine, check it’s loaded, and toggle the safety off and on. It’s remarkably similar to my gun at home, which is a relief.

You use it only when you need to.

He ducks his head to level our gazes, forcing the point home.

Stay behind my left shoulder and stay close.

Benito breaks away from the messages on his phone to retrieve a shiny pistol from the glove compartment. He checks the chamber, slides a small box of bullets into his breast pocket, and then sets the piece on the console. I lean back, eyebrows high, while I watch him lift each leg of his pants and check the bands on the ankle holsters. He has goddamn knives strapped to his calves. I’m still processing how the weapons don’t even show underneath his pant legs when he retrieves a longer, slimmer blade that Benito then sets with the pistol.

I’ll remove everyone except the two men. Then it’s your turn.

He nods toward my side of the vehicle to indicate I should get out before reaching for his door. I stand on shaky legs behind the safety of the open door and fuss with the gun. Do I tuck it in my waistband or keep it by my side?

Fingers on my shoulder send a shockwave down my spine. I turn to find Benito at my back, nodding toward his phone.

Keep it in your hand, safety off.

I’m not cut out for this. Papa was right. “I don’t know if I can do this. I’m not brave enough, Ben.”

He exhales heavily, glancing over my head toward the house before hastily typing one last message.

Want to know a secret?

I nod, and he continues.

---