Page 95 of A Love Most Fatal
“Damnit,” I hiss.
“We leave in three,” Leo says before he and Mary stalk out of the room to leave me to finish getting dressed.
I pull on the rest of the clothes quickly and to my surprise, Nate is up doing the same. He trips while trying to get his legs into the sweats he was wearing, his hoodie halfway over his head.
“You can’t come,” I say. “It’s not safe.”
It very well may be safe, especially if the attackers have left, but he would be most safehere. Sleeping in the bed with Ranger snoring at his feet.
Nate gives me a look like I’m being obtuse. “I’m going.”
“Hurry!” Mary yells from downstairs.
I stay locked in a battle of stares with Nate for a moment longer before he speaks again. “I’m in this.”
“Okay.” I stop only to grab my chest holster hanging in the closet and two handguns and an earpiece from the top drawer before heading out, Nate’s sneakers squeaking on the stairs behind me.
“What do we know?” I ask Mary once we climb into the car.
“One of the night patrols made a call about something suspicious at the site, he was dead before backup could get there, and thenthe backupstopped responding shortly after. Next was Rafael, but by the time he got there, he said cars were peeling away.”
“What kind of cars?” I ask.
“He saw two vans, black, didn’t get a look at the plates because one of them shot at him.”
Well, that narrows it down to absolutely fucking nothing.
Leo’s phone buzzes from where he tossed it onto the dashboard and Mary curses when she reads the screen.
“Distress text from Rafael,” she says. “Four of them.”
“Shit,” I murmur and load the magazine into my dad’s old gun.
“Don’t you have lackeys to take care of this?” Nate asks, alarm apparent in his voice. “Should we wait for manpower before walking into what might be a massacre?”
He’s right, but if we’ve already lost seven men—possibly eight if Raf isn’t alright—then we need to get there and figure this shit out. If one of the attackers is still there, we might be able to get more information from them. It might be the best lead we have.
“Lockdown,” Mary reminds, and I bob my head in agreement. We need to take care of this ourselves.
“I’ve already called Cillian, he’s sending guys, but they’re twenty minutes out,” Leo says. He deftly moves us through the streets, by far my best driver.
As much as I want to make Nate stay in the car where he might be safer, he was the one just a few hours ago claiming to be here for whatever, for the long haul, so I fight the urge. I turn to Nate and put a gun in his hand. He no longer holds it like it’s a live fish in his hand, so that’s an improvement.
“If someone points a gun at you, shoot them first,” I say.
Mary adds her own coaching, “If they even look like they’re going to attack you, shoot them. Aim for the chest,” she says. Telling him to aim for the head would be too ambitious. “You know how.”
“What if the person I shoot is one of your guys?”
I shake my head. “None of our guys would attack you.”
“What if it’s too dark to tell?”
“If someone is approaching you, or holding a gun in your direction, you shoot,” Mary says. “Stay near one of us.”
Nate’s lips press into a line, but he nods in agreement. When we pull up to the property, the gates are open. Leo parks on the street by the back gate entrance, and we make our way out of the car.
The property is a huge five story office building. Structurally, it’s complete, but the exterior is still in progress. The wall length windows are slated to be installed next week. Rafael’s car is empty just inside the open gates, an old Toyota. There’s a summer chill in the air, but that’s not what’s making the hairs on my neck stand on end.