Page 248 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

“We should have brought Antonio and Javiero,” Yellow Teeth growls.

“And Guillermo,” Blondie adds.

That comment sticks with me. If there are four here today, the other three they mentioned brings the total to seven who might know something about Esme and me.

Killing these bastards won’t finish the job.

“You fuckers are the ones who told me that the four of us were more than enough,” the leader hisses furiously.

“That was when we thought we were dealing with a fucking amateur!”

Taking advantage of their distraction, I dart out from behind the tree and fire again. This time, I’m aiming carefully.

My bullet hits the leader in the leg. He howls in pain, while his two stooges run for cover.

Scarface is still on the ground. He hasn’t moved since he went down.

I move to another tree, careful to keep moving so that none of them have a straight shot to me. I need to preserve ammo if I can, seeing as how Guillermo probably won’t sell me more bullets after I kill his friends.

That means I need to get closer.

I glance out from around the tree. The leader and Scarface are still on the ground, though the former is trying his best to get to his feet.

“You fuckers, come back!” he howls into the forest.

Come back? Goddammit.

If they ran, they’ll alert someone. Higher-ups, maybe. And that just means more people will come looking for us.

I need to end this shit.

Now.

The leader isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, judging by the waterfall of blood flowing down his leg. I’ll come back for him. First, I have to stop the runners.

I take off after them. It takes me only a few short bounds to see them scampering down the mountain trail.

I drop to one knee, raise my gun, and take aim. They’re moving fast, following the zig-zag of the trail. A few seconds more and they’ll disappear around one of the huge boulders that dot the mountainside.

Steady…

There.

I pull the trigger. The gun recoils harshly into my shoulder.

And down the mountain, Blondie drops like a rock.

Yellow Teeth keeps moving. Doesn’t even glance back. So much for being a good comrade.

I take a deep breath and fire again. This bullet narrowly misses him. Instead, a rock over his head explodes into fragments.

But it’s so close that he assumes he’s been hit. He loses his footing, trips to the ground, and his firearm tumbles through the air.

We both watch as it hits the ground once, twice—and then clatters over the edge of the ravine.

I keep my rifle on him as I advance down the trail. When I’m close enough, he raises his arms above his head in surrender.

I shake my head in disgust.

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