Page 68 of Make You Mine

“He’s here, Eli. He found me.”

23

ELIJAH

I’ve broken every traffic law on my way home. A ride that normally takes over forty minutes, today I’ve done in half, counting down every second in between.

Perez and Baez are behind me in an unmarked SUV and blaring their siren. Most people make way for us, a few looking at my car as though I’m a fleeing criminal, and had this been any other day, I would’ve found it amusing.

Not today. Not when the love of my life is alone and scared.

When she could be?—

No. I won’t let my thoughts travel to the worst-case scenario. She has to be okay.

There is no other option.

Life couldn’t be so cruel as to gift me Ava and then take her away.

Grabbing my phone, I send Perez a text, telling him to cut the siren off. We’re a street from my building, and the last thing we want is to alert Jason of our presence. All I have on my side is the act of surprise, and I plan to use it.

There’s a bullet with his name on it, and I want it lodged deep within his brain before he touches a hair on Ava’s head.

“Lord, please don’t let him hurt her. Let me get there in time,” I say, throwing my car into park in front of my building. My eyes flick to the left and notice that Stein and McGrady’s car is still there, but with no sign of them inside.

I pull out my gun and signal with my arm toward the car for Perez to follow up. My gut tells me there’s more than one rat in the building—a confirmation made a second later when Meyers himself walks around the corner with another man I’ve never seen before.

They’re laughing, wiping their hands on a hand towel, but not before I catch sight of the blood. “Those two dumb fucks were easy enough.”

“Predictably boring,” Meyers says, chuckling as he looks toward his companion. “They were pigs in a slaughterhouse.”

The man nods and shoots him a smirk. “And how long before we can bounce?”

“Soon.” Meyers looks down at his hand, picking something out from underneath his nail bed. “Once the cunt...the fuck!” He doesn’t get to finish, eyes snapping up and going wide as his friend falls. Blood spreads rapidly, seeping from his chest and staining the concrete floor beneath him. His eyes go from the dead man to mine, and his entire body goes rigid, fear coloring his features. “F-Ford. Captain. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to finish this.” That’s all I say while placing my gun back in the holster. Then, before he can utter another word, I tackle his pathetic ass to the floor, landing a straight punch to his face. Then another. The bone crunches beneath my fingers, blood splattering against my skin. I revel in it. In his screams of pain. In his pathetic attempt to push me off.

“Please.”

“Fuck you,” I spit out, elbow coming down right across his cheek. A gash follows, large and stretching across his red skin. It’s not enough. Nothing but death will ever be.

“Enough,” I hear Baez yell, and I’m half tempted to laugh. I’m gone. Nothing but his death will satisfy my need for revenge. To pay him back for every life taken.

He might not have killed them, but he helped. Blood is on his hands.

Two hands grab me, and I pull free, landing another blow to his already bruised face. And again. I don’t stop, and this time, no one stops me until I’m satisfied. His head hits the concrete, bouncing a few times before I pull back. I’m silent as I stand, not looking at anyone—or at the few cruisers that have arrived since we got here—and walk to the entrance of the building.

People call my name.

Someone tries to pull me back.

I’d kill them all if it came to it.

The silence follows me up the stairs, every flight up taking me to another plane of anger. I’ve never experienced this level of ire. Every floor up fills my body with a pulsing energy. My muscles coil, limbs shaking.

My floor is desolate when I reach it. Nothing.

No signs of anyone.

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