“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking you,” I snapped.
He remained quiet, watching me in that unnerving way. I took one small step backward, keeping our eyes locked. So I don’t get blood on me, I lied to myself with a sour taste in my mouth. Another step.
“Running already, ice princess?” His eyes glittered with something I couldn’t understand or decipher, and I didn’t like it.
Frustration bubbled inside me—at this man, at myself, at the gaping hole in my chest.
And I snapped.
I pulled the trigger, and the bullet lodged itself into the mahogany headboard, inches from where he was propped up. My heartbeats. His breaths. Animosity and confusion—his and mine—suffocating the air.
I couldn’t stay here.
“You’re fucking crazy,” he gritted, his eyes turning dark as coal.
I smirked, blinking innocently. “Oh, my bad. I was trying to flirt.”
“Your flirting skills leave much to be desired,” he muttered as he shifted, and my finger tightened on the trigger. “Don’t you even think about pulling that trigger again. I’ll come back from the dead and make you regret ever crossing paths with me.”
I scoffed. “Too fucking late.” Then I turned and ran.
Dread settled in the pit of my stomach, each step taking me away from him felt heavy, but I ignored it. On shaky legs that threatened to buckle my knees, I rushed down the busy D.C. street toward my rental car. I’d parked it strategically in an alley not far from where I fled the party mere hours ago.
The sun had long since set and the city flickered with lights while the cold bit at my cheeks. Kingston’s guest room closet provided me with a change of clothes, even a pair of tennis shoes that were my size, but nothing warm, not even a hat or scarf.
I was such an idiot for going to his place. An idiot who let a handsome face lure me into his penthouse.
What was I even thinking?
I came out of the whole ordeal more confused than ever.
The flashing blue lights of a police car caught my eyes, but I ignored it as I rushed down the pavement. Loud laughter and party music pounded through the air, a nightclub nearby I imagined. People in various stages of intoxication passed me by, blissfully unaware of the misdeeds taking place around them.
“Louisa,” called an unfamiliar voice, and my head whipped around, hearing the name that made my heart clench every time. A woman waved, and my brows pinched. I didn’t know her. And, more importantly, I wasn’t Louisa. Just then, a girl flew past me, almost knocking into me, and joined her friends. That familiar loneliness wrapped its invisible hand around my neck and I swallowed the lump in my throat.
Twice in the same night. What were the fucking odds?
Maybe it was the universe warning me of dangers that surrounded me. Mother. The cartels. My feeble attempt at saving innocents. But I couldn’t stop. Not while there was a single breath left in my body. The fear in my gut twisted into the same fury that had kept me going since learning of my sister’s death. It was poisonous and vengeful, a fierce determination driving me forward.
Another cold breeze swept through, and I clenched my teeth as a shiver skidded down my spine.
I’d seen too much death. Too much pain. In my past. In my present. I couldn’t bear to think of a future that went on in this way. I’d been trying to make a difference, but instead I felt as if I’d lost myself. In bloodlust. Revenge. Hatred.
I shook my head, chasing all the ghosts away. I wasn’t ready to deal with them. Not now. Not here.
“Hey, babe. You look like you need a man to warm you up tonight.”
I ignored the shrewd comment. Men were pigs, thinking they could spin some lame line and get laid.
I continued on, my tennis shoes silent against the pavement. As I moved through the crowd of people, I had only one thing on my mind: escape. I needed to get to my car and leave this sick city behind. The street finally quieted down, but the hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and I looked around frantically. I spotted my car, and my step faltered.
I didn’t park my rental all the way back here. It was a basic rule of safety—never put yourself in a position where you might be cornered.
Taking a deep breath, I looked up at the dark sky and exhaled. I needed to get back to Russia before my mother noticed I was gone. Christmas was days away and she never missed a holiday—no matter what crisis was unfolding in the world.
I started walking, my steps hasty and my senses vigilant, keeping my eyes on my surroundings. It was as silent as a graveyard.
I was in a full jog when I heard an eerie sound. Beep. Beep. Beep.
It was faint, but it might as well have been church bells. My gaze traveled over the car, realization forming in the pit of my stomach. Without wasting a breath, I turned to run back.
But it was too late.
The ground beneath my feet rumbled. Heat seared my spine, and I fell to the ground with plaster and debris falling all around me. My face smashed into the hard pavement, knocking the breath out of me. I gasped, attempting to roll onto my back, when I felt a thud at my temple.
Then it all went black.
Chapter 24Liana
“Is that her?” I heard a man mutter. “If it’s not, Perez will have our balls. Santiago doesn’t give a shit as long as it has a pussy.”
“It’s her.” A chuckle filled the darkness, making my heart gallop. “If it isn’t, I’m fucking keeping her.”
My eyes fluttered open, my tongue heavy in my mouth. I attempted to move, but found myself unable to. A cold sweat broke out across my skin as I was dragged toward a car, each movement causing my flesh to burn.
The fuckers sedated me.
In the next second, I was thrown onto a hard leather seat. The car pulled out and sped down the road, jostling me around on the back seat. A sharp turn had me rolling onto the floor, and a shooting pain exploded in my skull. Clearly they didn’t care whether I made it to where we were going in one piece.
“Sofia Volkov will bring out the big guns when she learns another of her daughters has been taken.”
I attempted to thrash, move, but it was futile. I had to settle down; I refused to let terror overwhelm me. If I did, I’d spiral.
Taking a deep breath in, I exhaled, focusing on slowing my heartbeat. Was this my end? No, it couldn’t be. I still had so much to resolve. There were still things I didn’t understand. My thoughts flitted to the man who’d been infiltrating my dreams. The faceless man. The similarities I found between Kingston Ashford and a ghost that kept hiding from me.
I had to survive this and get to the bottom of who and what Kingston Ashford was and why he bore similarities to the faceless man.
The car came to a sudden stop, halting all my thoughts and jolting me back into my body. The back door opened, and a set of strong hands scooped me off the floor. I peeked through my eyelashes and my breath caught. The hand wrapped around my waist had a skull tattoo on it. The very same one as the head of the Tijuana cartel.
The driver muttered a curse, then gritted, “Your uncle said to bring her to him. He and Cortes have an understanding.”
“That’s null and void.” The grave, vaguely familiar voice belonged to a beast of a man who threw me over his shoulder and started walking. It wasn’t long before he ascended the stairs. Nausea rippled through my insides—I’d never been able to tolerate drugs well.
Suddenly, the man holding me like a sack of potatoes stopped, took a left, and entered a room, throwing me onto the bed. My body bounced off the soft mattress, and I hated that I was so weak. I needed to find a way to shake the fog off.
My flesh crawled at the thought of him—anyone—touching me. I tried to roll off the bed, but this damn weakness refused to give way. I swore to God, if he touched me, I’d slit his throat.