Page 70 of The Mafia's Omega Queen

Hunter jogs forward with Ryker at his side, Birdie contained within the bag at his back. I would worry about the thing bouncing around, but Hunter assures us a little shaking won’t set it off. Even then, we all give them a wide berth as they work on setting it up. Hunter cackles quietly over the comms, and we watch on, wondering what the hell is making him laugh so hard. He pulls out his phone, capturing a picture, and not a moment later, all our phones start buzzing with an incoming message.

Rebecca cracks up over the comm, obviously having checked hers first. My eyebrows furrow as I pull my own out and click on Hunter’s message. A picture pulls up of Birdie all nestled next to the wall, but the funny part is that there’s a picture attached to it that wasn’t there before. It’s a hastily drawn photo of a guy taking a bomb up the ass, with an arrow pointed at the guy and Lionel’s name.

Fucking Hunter. He shouldn’t quit his day job. Drawing is not a skill to list on his resume.

Others quietly laugh, not wanting to alert anyone to our presence, as Ryker and Hunter hustle back over us, waving us on to back away. We all do so until we are tucked behind trees, a shield against flying debris.

“Count us down, Dad,” Hunter says with glee, his phone poised in his grip, ready to hit the wireless detonator we set up a few hours ago. He went all out for this mission. His mohawk is stiff straight, pointing to the sky, broken into pointed spikes. He, right along with Ryker, painted their faces with black marks, looking more like demons ready to take your soul than soldiers for the mafia or a gang.

“Five.”

I shift from foot to foot, ready to get my girl.

“Four.”

Vinny places his hand on my shoulder, a silent vow that we’ll get her out.

“Three.”

Hunter peeks around the tree he’s hiding behind, a wide demonic smile stretched across his face, making him look crazed.

“Two.”

Everyone braces themselves.

“One.”

I love you, sweets.

“Fire!”

There’s a single second where the entire goes quiet, almost like the world is holding its breath, waiting to see what’ll happen. Then everything explodes in technicolor, a bright, fiery burst chasing away any lingering shadows as a crack echoes across the sky like rolling thunder during a storm.

Hunter whoops, his voice heard over the debris hitting the ground, then takes off, disappearing into the cloud of dust hovering around the impact site.

“Kill ‘em all,” is the last thing we hear before everyone takes off after Hunter, gunfire barely drowning out the maniacal glee of each kill he calls out.

At this rate, there won’t be any for the rest of us. But that’s okay. My mind is focused on one thing and one thing only.

Getting my omega back.

The walls rattle and shake as a loud explosion sounds in the immediate vicinity. My hands shoot out to steady myself, a whimper breaking free from the pain of my fingertips, and my nose wrinkles at the feel of the grime on the walls. I wouldn’t touch this shit if my life depended on it, especially with open wounds, but I’m already hovering over the toilet, relieving myself, and the last thing I need is to piss all over myself when the cavalry has arrived.

My eyes dart around for toilet paper. “Shit,” I hiss when I realize there isn’t any. Looks like I’ll be shaking myself dry. My hips wiggle back and forth as rapid-firing shots start to pop off outside.

I’ve never been more relieved in my life that they’re finally here. I know I’ve gotten myself this far on my own, but there were serious doubts about making it out of the house alive. And not because of Lionel. There are at least a handful of people here who are loyal to him and will not hesitate to kill me before I can actually get away.

If only I knew the full extent of their plans outside, but it’s not something I can dwell on right now. I just need to get out of this dank ass basement and on the main floor before I decide my next steps.

Once I feel marginally dry—as good as it’s going to get considering the circumstances—I snatch the dagger from the moldy countertop, cringing as fire races through my belly, a sure-fire sign that my heat is imminent, and there’s no time to delay any longer.

After leaving the little box they call a bathroom down here, I glance over one last time at Bianca’s corpse and flip her the double bird. Hunter would be so damn proud. Vinny would probably roll his eyes, while Gavin would be concerned about my wounds. Arden, on the other hand, would most likely already be contacting the clean-up crew.

With my last fuck you to Bianca out of the way, I start for the stairs once more. I never heard the locks click back in place after she came down, so I’m counting on the door being open. It is my own means of escape. There isn’t a window down here for me to crawl out of or I’d take that route instead.

Actually, no I wouldn’t. There is an innate need inside of me to see this through. To know, once and for all, that Lionel is dead and can’t come after me, my parents, or the men I love again.

The steps creak under my feet, the sound almost drowned out by the yelling above and the pounding footsteps. Dried blood starts to crack and flake from my skin with every move I make. My heart thumps against my ribcage as I get closer to the door, a slight fear slithering through my veins that someone may beat me to the doorway and kill me before I even step through it.

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