Page 136 of Bloodstained Wings

Pausing to roll my shoulders, I release the guy and give him another menacing look. He crumples into a heap at my feet, covered in his urine, sweat, and blood, but he still doesn’t beg for mercy. With a frown, I drag him back up to his feet and take him outside to the alley, where Paul and the others have a few more men lined up against the wall.

All of them lift their heads up and say nothing.

I point a gun at the back of the man’s head and force him to his knees. “Any last words?”

“Fuck you, Carter Blackthorne.”

“I was hoping for something more original than that.” I aim the gun and fire, bits of blood and brain matter flying in every direction. Then I kick the man away and gesture to Paul, who drags another shorter man to his feet. He sputters and cries and pleads.

It only makes me angrier.

I take care of him, too, and more of our captives flinch.

When I reach the fifth person, I’m growing impatient, the anger burning through me becoming almost impossible to ignore. I cock my gun and get ready to shoot when the man surrenders. With a grim smile, I pull him to his feet and shove him to Paul. Paul drags him away, and I clean the blood off my knuckles.

That night, I’m in the shower when Paul gets the news.

A short while later, Ernesto is driving me to a press conference in a secure location, where a lot of my men are lying in wait. When I get there, a swarm of reports is already lined up outside. The security team I’ve hired for the night keeps them at bay, but everyone is on edge. While I know that holding a press conference to help clear my name isn’t the way to go about it, I also know that it’s important.

I need public opinion to be in my favor. Especially where Mayor Hughes is concerned. And I want to rub my freedom and influence in his face.

Ernesto pulls up next to the curb and grips the steering wheel tighter. “Are you sure you want to do this, boss?”

“They’re going to try and shoot me in full view of the press. It’s going to drum up a lot of sympathy and outrage because even criminals deserve their day in court,” I tell Ernesto without looking at him. “This is all going according to plan.”

Ernesto twists to face me. “And if they don’t try to shoot you?”

“Then I’ll give the press something to think about.” I flash Ernesto a grim smile and push the door open. “Stay close and stay in touch with Tristan.”

I shove one hand into my pocket, and two of the security team flank me. I climb up the stairs toward the mayor’s office, lit up by the pale glow of the moon, and stop when I reach the landing. With a smile, I spin around to face everyone and give them a half-wave. A makeshift podium has already been set up, so I step behind it, the smile never leaving my face.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ernesto and a few others hovering on the edge of the crowd.

The crowd goes still and quiet.

“Good evening, and thank you all for coming here tonight.” I tap the microphone and lean into it. “I know everyone is busy, so I’m going to get straight to the point. A lot of things have been said about me in the press, and I want you all to know that none of it is true.”

Cameras start flashing, and a few reporters lean forward to get closer to the podium.

“As you all know, I ran for mayor and lost. Because of his inability to accept my standing in the community, Mayor Hughes has launched a personal attack against me. I have been nothing but gracious and kind, but I cannot let these accusations hold any longer. I will no longer stand by and allow the mayor to drag my name and the names of the people I love through the mud.”

A loud cacophony of voices rises as everyone tries to be heard over each other.

Spots dance in my field of vision.

I search for Ernesto in the crowd and nod. The lights go out, and I take a step back. One of my hired men, a man who bears a passing resemblance to me from a distance, steps forward and takes my place at the podium. Quickly and using the cover of darkness, I creep away and meet Ernesto in the side street. Almost on cue, shots ring out, and the gathering crowd erupts into chaos.

A scream rises through the air as the lights come back on.

My man is on the ground, blood staining his shirt and a strained look on his face. Ernesto pushes me against the SUV and glances around. A few more gunshots are fired, slicing through the air, and the crowd of reporters starts scrambling to get away. A few members of the hired security team lurch forward and pull my double to his feet.

He staggers and stops to look over his shoulder at the press.

Cameras are still flashing, and phones are being taken out.

Everything is a blur of sounds and voices as I jump into the backseat of the SUV and flatten myself against the floor. Ernesto gets into the car and speeds off, weaving in and out of traffic while I talk to Tristan. When we make it to another safe house, one not too far from Anita’s house, Ernesto skids to a halt, his heavy breathing filling the air.

I scramble out of the back of the car and run a hand through my hair. “That went better than expected. The mayor is not going to know what fucking hit him.”

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