The guy to my right held a gun to my head. “Still confident you could kill us? Shit, you talk a lot.”

I smirked. “You irritate me.” I turned to the guy on my left. “And you smell like you ate shit for breakfast, and I don’t mean that as an exaggeration. You actually smell like you woke up at six a.m., took a crap in the toilet, dipped your grubby little hands into your own bowl and fished out a prize.”

“That’s it!” The guy to my left lunged for me, which really was unfortunate for him, considering I’d already managed to saw the zip ties off my hands.

I used the same knife to slice his throat. His eyes went wide and he gurgled something as a crimson waterfall gushed from his neck. Pity. It was hell getting stains out of white. Then I wrestled his gun out of his clenched fist and fired it right-handed at the guy next to me. Poor bastard slumped in his seat, a look of pure horror crossed his face before his body stilled.

Two seconds.

That’s how long it took me.

The one choked his last breath while the other slumped against the window. The driver slammed on the brakes, while the guy in the passenger seat turned around and aimed a gun for my head.

I was too busy wiping my hands on the guy next to me to care. Once they were semi-clean, I looked up and shrugged. “Please, don’t stop on my account. Like I said, the one kept punching me and the other smelled. Tell me you didn’t smell him. I did you a favor. Is it my imagination, or are the made men these days lacking in the hygiene department?”

The guy in the front seat took his gun off of me. “He was right about you.”

“Who?” I asked innocently as the car started going again.

“Your father.”

“Oh, and what did Papa have to say about his abandoned son?”

The guy smirked in the rearview mirror. “He said he should have killed you when you were an infant.”

I smirked right back. “For once, he’s right.”

Chapter Forty-Three

Chase

“He kept his GPS on.” I muttered tapping my phone as it found Tex’s location. He was at Lake Mead. Though his signal was fading. Either they were tossing him into the water or he was going underground. “Are there any tunnels? Old abandoned buildings?” I asked Sergio.

He clicked the keyboard into his iPad and began going to town. “I’m not seeing anything glaring other than a few old houses, some old caves.”

“Wait.” Frank held up his hand. “He’s superstitious.”

“What?”

“Albatross,” Luca said for him. “And houses on the lake are another superstition. The man has a thing about bad omens and curses. My bet is he went underground or into an abandoned cave.”

“Searching.” Sergio’s hands flew across the keyboard. “Okay, so the only thing I’m finding is an old abandoned boathouse. Everything else is either a nice house, hotel, or restaurant. None of those places are even close to the location he disappeared at.”

“Old boathouse it is.”

Sergio smirked.

“What?” I asked.

He looked up from his computer. “The old boathouse. It’s called The Albatross.”

“Good work.” Nixon exhaled. “Girls, you’re going to drive separate with Frank. You’re safer with us than hiding out at the hotel. They could be drawing us out to kill us or drawing us out to get to you. I’m not taking any chances.” He turned to Frank. “Follow, but not too close. If you don’t hear from us within a few hours, call this number.”

“What is it?” Frank asked.

Nixon’s eyes fell. “The airline. If you don’t hear from us, you go off-grid, you go to the first location stated in Trace’s plan. She has the information you guys would need to go into hiding. If we make it out, we’ll meet you there. If we don’t…” His voice died off.

“You’ve thought of everything,” Mo said, her voice sounding hollow.

Nixon pulled her into his arms. “We’re blood. We protect blood.”

When he released her, I stepped up to him and held out my hand. “Blood in. Blood out.”

Luca and Frank shook our hands, repeating the sentiment as each of us kissed one another’s cheeks.

I’d never been one to think about the whole patron saint thing, but in that moment, I pulled out the cross that I’d made when I was fifteen. It had Saint Paul scribbled across it.

“May God protect us,” Nixon mumbled, making a cross motion with his fingers in front of him.

Frank nodded. “He protects the just.”

Mil leaned against me. “And those who rape little girls, sell their virginity, or worse yet, purchase it for their own gain? What does he do to them?”

I squeezed her. “He gives them their just reward.”

Luca nodded. “An eternity in hell.”

“Ready?” I whispered in her ear.

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

She nodded and then wrapped her arms around me. “I love you too.”

Stepping away from her, knowing it was entirely possible it would be the last time I’d be in her arms, was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. It was necessary. I was going to war — for her. And even if I died, I’d die with peace, knowing my last action had been saving her from monsters and demons. My last battle cry… would be her name on my lips.

Chapter Forty-Four

Mil

Frank pulled the black Escalade up to the curb and waited as all of us girls piled in. We were safe with him. He wasn’t just Trace’s grandpa; he was the boss of the Alfero family. He was also old enough to let the younger generation run in, guns blazing, but not too old to not be able to protect us. He was in his seventies but looked more like his fifties.

“You girls will listen to me,” he said, his voice slightly accented. “You will not run into the building when you hear gunshots. You will not cry when you see blood. If need be, you will kill. You will kill swiftly. You will kill smoothly. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” we mumbled in unison.

“Do you all have ammo?”

“Yeah,” I said.

Trace and Mo repeated the same thing.

“And knives?”

Mo grinned. “My specialty.”

“Fantastic.”

Weird. It was like he was proud that we were heavily armed and ready to kill on a dime. What a life.

I sent a quick text to Joe, telling him what was going on. Not to put us in more jeopardy, but because I figured that the guys would need all the help they could get.

Me: If you don’t hear from me in 40 minutes. Come to this address, guns blazing.

Joe: How many men do you need?

Me: Every last one you have.

Joe: Should I be concerned?

Me: We found Campisi. I wouldn’t be against you bringing hell to his doorstep.

Joe: And to think I wanted to kill you a few days ago.

Me: Um, thank you?

Joe: It was a compliment. Keep in touch, boss.

“Do you trust them?” Trace whispered next to me.

I nodded. “Right now? We have no choice but to trust them. And if they turned on us, they’d bring four of the most powerful families down onto their heads. They have more to gain by joining us than going against us.”

Trace squeezed my hand. “Good thinking.”

Mo leaned forward so that she was touching both of our shoulders. “Girls, I love you both but I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Nerves?”

Mo shook her head. “He could be dead.”

“He’s not dead,” Trace reassured her instantly. “You know Tex. He’s smart. He’s very, very capable.”

“That’s just the problem,” Mo grumbled. “He talks way too much.”

“But he’s good, right?” I asked lamely. “I mean, he can hold his own?”

The girls both burst out laughing.

“What am I missing?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Mo said. “It’s scary as hell that they have him. My heart hasn’t stopped racing since I saw the exchange, but Tex kills people. It’s what he does.”