Page 31 of The Heir
We pile out of the van, and I check my various weapons. Roman and Melnyk strapped me up with a shocking amount of firepower. I flick the safety off of the rifle and exhale a sigh of relief. Looking at Dante, I expect him to be staring at me with that same puppy dog expression. I'm a little surprised to see that he isn't.
My husband glowers toward the dilapidated structure. He's focused, calm, collected. I watch his steady hand close around the grip of his favorite handgun,decorated with his silver symbol. A muscle in his jaw twitches as he grits his teeth before finally looking over at me. He shakes his head, and I freeze.
Roman rounds the van and leans in close. "Let me sweep the building first. I'll give a signal if it's safe."
Dante nods, and I stare with widened eyes. Roman silently stalks off into the night, hand on his own gun. We watch him gently push open the front door—it's barely hanging on, only one of the hinges still attached to the frame. The paint chipped and faded long ago. Spiderwebs glint in the moonlight around the eaves.
It's a wonder the building is still standing.
Roman's flashlight beam illuminates the windows one by one. His sweep seems to be very thorough. I suppose I should be pleased, but I'm practically vibrating out of my bones to take up our positions. We had a rudimentary blueprint for the house—or it used to be a house, I guess—back in the bunker. My place should be behind a load-bearing wall, back in the kitchen. Roman will lure Ella around the corner, and I'll spray her full of more lead than a 1950s mobster.
Dante will be right behind me, and Melnyk will be positioned in the copse of trees surrounding the rotting back porch. He'll have an excellent vantage point with his rifle. Nihil is following suit. Moore has another spot in the trees on the other side, just in case anything goes awry. Forge will stay behind in the van. He's alreadyslipped behind the steering wheel and has one hand on his radio.
This is perfection. We're more prepared than I've ever seen. We're ready to put up a fight and end this, once and for all.
Roman pops out of the front door and gives us the signal: a thumbs-up. Not very "super secret military" of him, but even I can understand it. Dante takes my hand and leads me toward the building, giving a grim nod to Melnyk and his men.
Adrenaline floods my system, and every single one of my senses heightens. It's go time.
Dante
My wife practically bounces at my heels as we enter the house. Plumes of dust fly into the air at every step. This place is… well, it's disgusting. But it's a fitting end for Ella. She thinks herself important? No, she'll meet her violent end and return to dust. Just like everyone else. No fanfare, no ceremony.
Just a slug to the brain.
Roman's gaze flicks between me and my wife, and I catch the tiniest hint of anxiety in the way he chews on his lower lip. He's nervous. It would be stupid of him to be confident, but I've never seen even a whisper of nerves in him before. My metaphorical hackles go up, and I grab Melody's hand.
"Love, wait—I don't like this," I whisper. She rounds on me with fury in her eyes.
"I know you don't. But this needs to happen." There's finality in her words. Roman narrows his gaze and nods once.
"She's right, sir. This needs to happen. So we can all be safe."
Dread grips my gut, and cold fear slithers into my veins. We're here. I can't stop this. It's too late. Whatever happens will happen.
Roman's phone vibrates in his pocket, and he whips it out, brows furrowed. "Shit. We have less than five minutes. Go, go, go!"
Melody flattens herself against the crumbling wall, and I scurry over, taking my stance behind her. My gun is loaded and heavy in my hand. Roman creeps around the corner and takes up his position near the front door. I can't see Melnyk or the other men, but I can only hope they're ready for this.
My wife turns around and mouths,"I love you."My heart stills in my chest. I love her, too. I love her somuch. I hope to any god or demon who might be listening that my feelings are wrong. I hope that everything will go according to plan. I hope that I get to hold my wife for the rest of my days. Please, please, let me be wrong.
The crunch of gravel beneath tires penetrates the silence like gunshots. My heart works overtime as the car door slams shut seconds later. She's here. She's here. She's here. Fuck, she's here. I've never felt such an all-consuming fear in my life. Not even when Melody was captured, not when she went to jail, not when she was found guilty.
This is worse. Oh, my god, this is worse. I hold back a gasping cringe when I hear boots stomping across the porch. My grip tightens around my gun, and I slide my finger around the trigger.
"Beacon?" Roman's gruff voice echoes around the space.
"At ease. You must be Klein, then?" Ella's clipped tone buzzes around in my skull. Melody stiffens, and I watch her pulse race in her neck.
"That's me. I think I have information on that woman you're looking for—the one who broke out of jail?"
"Your message said as much. Do you have her whereabouts? Is she around here?"
"I believe so, yes. I've got an old map from one of the locals on the table—he wasmorethan helpful in outlining where all the old families used to live."
Every step of Roman's boots sends my heart pounding against my ribs. Melody quickly lifts the rifle and tucks her finger around the trigger, waiting for the first glimpse of Ella.
Time seems to slow around me. Blood whooshes in my ears at a deafening roar. Somehow, even through the thick layer of dust, eachthumpof their shoes blasts through me like a rocket. As silently as I can possibly muster, I take a deep breath and cock my gun at the empty space in front of my wife. She clenches her jaw and adjusts the rifle.
