32. A Dance with Death
Chapter thirty-two
A Dance with Death
Emily
Another explosion came.
All music ceased.
“What the fuck?!” I got out of Kaz’s arms, pulled up the top of my dress, and also yanked down the dress’s bottom.
The abrupt shift from intimate pleasure to immediate danger was disorienting. My heated body still tingled from Kaz’s touch; my heart pounded in sync with the residual echoes of our shared climax.
But all thoughts of desire evaporated as a cold surge of dread coursed through my veins.
“Stay behind me.” Kaz turned around, blocking me with his back.
His men rushed our way, raised their guns in the air, and created a human barrier around us—a living shield.
My whole body tensed up, my muscles trembling with terror. Every nerve felt heightened and on edge, making my skin prickle.
Who the hell could be coming for us now?
The metallic taste of anxiety flooded my mouth, like I had just been hit in the face with a bolt of lightning.
Then, the rat-a-tat-tat of machine guns rattled from the alley.
Rapid and intimidating.
We all turned our views that way.
Someone is trying to come in from the back.
Then, a barrage of bullets erupted from the front, drowning out dancers’ screams.
Kaz and I turned our attention to that direction.
Holy fucking shit.
Chaos reigned supreme.
The lights blinked, flickering on and off.
On and off.
Illuminating the hallway and then drowning us in shadows.
It created a disorienting effect that added to the horror.
I got closer to Kaz. “You think this is the Mexicans, Columbians, both, or someone else?”
“Whoever it is, they are coming from both sides, and they do not want any survivors.” Kaz quickly scanned our surroundings. probably for potential escape routes.
They want us dead? Not fucking happening.
Survival mode kicked in.
I moved from behind Kaz and tapped one of his men. “Give us some guns.”
Without missing a beat, his men handed Kaz and me Glocks.
The moment the sleek, cold steel touched my palms, a familiar rush of adrenaline surged through my veins. My fingers instinctively wrapped around the grip, feeling the weight and balance of the weapon as if greeting an old friend.
Fuck whoever this is.
I quickly checked the chamber, ensuring it was loaded, all the while stealing a glance at Kaz.
With practiced ease, he pulled back the slide of his Glock. The metallic click echoed slightly. His eyes met mine for a fleeting moment and grew dark and intense.
Damn it, Kaz. Don’t you even think about it that way.
Then, he turned back to the exit.
Even though brief, that gaze spoke volumes.
I witnessed the primal, alpha possessiveness that had surged to the forefront of his being. I even heard the vow he said in his head, in that moment, his look spoke volumes. It was in the swell of rage in his eyes and the twitch along his jawline, that telltale sign of his escalating fury and protective instincts.
In that fleeting moment, I understood that his world had narrowed down to a single point—me, and the future we dreamed of with Emilio and Paolo.
Kaz was ready to burn the world down to keep me safe so that I could get back to his sons and raise them.
But with this realization came the weight of responsibility on my part. I knew that in his tunnel vision, Kaz’s own safety was secondary. It would be a distant thought overshadowed by his concern for me.
Therefore, I had to be his anchor, his shield, just as he was mine.
Kaz gazed back at me. “Do not worry. You will get out safe, mysh .”
I shifted slightly, ensuring a clear line of sight over his shoulder. My finger rested lightly on the trigger, ready to defend, to protect, to fight for the future we envisioned. “ We will get out safe, Kaz. Not just me.”
He scowled.
Another man handed us more clips.
I took them and stuffed a few in my bra.
Kaz pocketed what he could.
More bombs exploded with deafening roars, both in front and behind us, shaking the ground beneath our feet.
Shit!
The blasts sent shockwaves through my body, and a suffocating cloud of dust and debris filled the space.
I covered my mouth and coughed, trying to clear my lungs of the dust.
My heart drummed in my chest.
Terror gripped me with icy fingers, a cold dread that made it hard to think, but I had to figure it the fuck out.
We are not dying in here. Emilio and Paolo need us both.
Through this new dusty smokey haze, I could barely see Kaz’s silhouette right next to me.
His men—now more like shadows than people—formed a tight circle around us, their guns at the ready, scanning for threats through the chaos.
The smell of gunpowder and the iron tang of blood hung heavy in the air, mixing with the acrid bite of smoke.
Come on. Why couldn’t shit have just gone right tonight?
I gripped the Glock tighter. “What do we do?”
Kaz’s voice cut through the chaos. “We need to move.”
“Yeah.” I glanced back and forth. “But, which way do you think is the best way?”
“We can go back into the main room, but head straight for the bathrooms and climb out the windows. We should come out in an alley.”
I thought about Max and Valentina. “We can’t just leave everyone.”
“ Mysh —”
“There might be people in the front who need our help.”
Kaz’s expression hardened, his jaw clenching further. “Listen to me. Right now, our priority is getting out alive. If we get trapped or killed, we can’t help anyone.”
I knew he was right, but the thought of leaving others behind twisted in my gut like a knife.
More bombs exploded with deafening roars.
Again, both in the front and behind us.
The ground shook.
Kaz grabbed my free hand.
“The enemy’s plan is to create a death trap.” He pointed to the back. “They are bombing the exits, forcing everyone towards the center.”
“Fuck.”
“It is a classic pincer move—squeeze the life out of the target. I have used it before. It is designed to kill as many as possible either by fire, explosion, or smoke.”
The horror of his words sank in.
I coughed through the smoke. “So we get to the bathrooms—”
“And then climb out the windows.”
“Alright.” I kicked off my heels, knowing I couldn’t run in them. “Just let me know when to run, baby.”
“Once we are out, we find cover, assess, and then help everyone else.”
My nerves flared. “Got it.”
His plan was clear, his leadership unquestionable. In that moment, despite the fear, despite the chaos, a strange sense of confidence washed over me.
Kaz was in his element, and we would be okay.
Suddenly, the sound of shattered glass and the heavy thud of boots announced the arrival of people rushing through the back.
Come the fuck on. First, you bombed us. Then, you run in to shoot us.
Fast, Kaz’s men pointed their weapons towards the direction of the intruders and unleashed a barrage of gunfire.
Shit.
The staccato bursts of bullets echoed through the air, competing with the invaders’ own weapon fire in a cacophony of chaos. Both sides were locked in a deadly dance, trading shots and dodging bullets.
Adrenaline pumped in my veins.
Kaz’s hand tightened around mine, and his voice cut through the terror. “Now!”
We darted between Kaz’s men and made a mad dash down the hallway, racing in the direction of screams and more gunfire.
Sprinting.
He turned to look at me. “Stay close.”
There was no room for argument in his tone.
I risked a glance over my shoulder.
Kaz’s men continued their fierce battle with the invaders. The flashes from their guns illuminated the hallway.
My breath caught in my throat as I saw one of Kaz’s men get hit. His body jerked violently before collapsing to the ground, motionless.
Motherfucker.
Another stumbled backward, clutching his side.
I turned my face forward, forcing my legs to move faster.
This is a goddamn war zone .
The gunfight faded into a dull roar behind us, but the danger was far from over.
Each step took us deeper into the true heart of the chaos, towards the unknown threats that lay in the main floor.
Meanwhile, as we ran, the hallway seemed to stretch into infinity, a never-ending tunnel that promised no safety, only more danger.
The thud of falling bodies filled the air behind us.
Kaz’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Keep moving!”
“Okay, baby.”
His strength gave me the courage to keep running, to push through the terror and the pain, towards the hope of escape.
We neared the end of the hallway and burst onto the main floor of the club.
No. No. No.
The full extent of the night’s horror unfolded. This once vibrant space, pulsating with life and rhythm, was now a scene of devastation and despair.
Flickering lights struggled to maintain their glow amidst the chaos.
Smoke and the scent of death ran thick in the air, creating an oppressive atmosphere that clung to my lungs and stung my eyes.
Tables and chairs were overturned.
Shattered glass littered the floor.
The bar was decimated, bottles reduced to shards, the alcoholic contents fueling the flames that danced with malevolent glee across the ruined space.
And then there were the bodies.
No. No.
Dancers, patrons, staff—people who had come with us for a night of escape, now lay motionless, scattered across the dance floor and piled around the stage.
Where’s Max? Valentina? Lemon? Tisha?
I slowed up, frantically scanning the space. “I don’t see—”
“It does not matter, mysh —”
“But, Max and—”
“We have to get out of here.” Kaz dragged me forward. “The bathrooms are behind the stage.”
“Kaz, we have to check for—”
His grip was like an iron shackle, unyielding. “No time. Remember the plan.”
“O-okay.” I followed him and stayed close.
The thought of possibly leaving behind the people we loved carved a hollow pit of guilt deep within my chest. And each step away intensified the weight of that guilt, making it almost unbearable.
My heart ached with the fear that they hadn’t made it out, that we were abandoning them to a fate we were desperately fleeing from.
There was this horror in not knowing their status, of not being able to turn back and search for them.
It gnawed at me with sharp, relentless teeth.
Their faces flashed in my mind.
No. They got out. I know they did.
Yet, death loomed over the club.
What if they didn’t make it out?
We hurried forward.
Please, let them have escaped. Let them be safe.
The stage itself—where I’d just been throwing dollars—was now a grotesque display.
Oh my God.
Bodies lay draped over the edges, slumped against the walls.
Contorted and lifeless.
Strewn haphazardly across the floor.
Their final moments, marked by poses of desperate escape or sudden demise. Some lay draped over the edges of tables, limbs askew. Others were slumped against the walls, their faces frozen in expressions of shock and agony. G-strings reduced to charred black lines on burning skin.
Flames licked at the stage’s surface. My nose drowned in the scent of burning flesh and hair. The crackle of fire mingled with the faint, distant echoes of emergency sirens.
Smoke billowed upwards in thick, choking columns, so dense and dark that parts of the ceiling were completely obscured.
I don’t see Max. . .
A solitary foot, charred and dismembered, lay on the path in front of us.
Kaz stepped over it and guided me along.
My eyes watered and I didn’t know if it was due to smoke or sadness.
He got out. I have to believe he got out.
Suddenly, the unmistakable sound of more intruders pierced the smoky haze, and they were definitely coming from the front. Through the dim light and the thick, choking smoke that filled the air, figures emerged like phantoms.
Fuck. Fuck.
Right on instinct, we both shifted our walking to this odd, slow duck-walking as we did our best to stay low and hidden.
Kaz whispered, “You see them too?”
“Yes. At least ten.” I spotted most wearing black masks and squinted to get a clearer view. They reminded me of the sort of face paint from the Day of the Dead—elaborate skulls and colorful floral designs.
Kaz and I ducked even lower, moving within the shadows and aiming our guns in their direction.
More entered.
Jesus Christ.
It wouldn’t make any damn sense to shoot at them now. There was at least twenty to thirty men now.
Fear clawed at my chest.
Kaz tensed beside me, his body coiling like a spring, ready to leap into action. His grip on my hand tightened even further.
He positioned us behind a partially overturned table, its surface scarred and burnt. “Hold on.”
The men spoke to each other in Spanish, yelling out commands here and there. A good bit of them nodded and rushed toward the hallway where we had just left.
Kaz was right. Glad he got us out of there.
More Spanish commands were shouted out, and then the group divided again. Some went behind the bar and shot. A man screamed in pain.
Yep. They’re searching for survivors to kill them.
With his free hand, Kaz signaled for us to move. “Continue to stay low.”
We zigzagged through the debris-laden floor.
Smoke swirled around us, tendrils reaching out to grasp our legs.
Thank God everyone’s visibility—theirs and ours—was reduced to mere shadows and silhouettes. Either way, trying to get out of there was still a gamble.
The masked men prowled around and shot at bodies.
My heart pumped out a morbid rhythm in my ears.
The path to the bathrooms seemed like an eternity away.
We ducked behind another overturned table.
The sound of our own breaths became indistinguishable from the soft whispers of flames consuming the club.
Far off by the entrance, another man rattled off Spanish.
The men hurried to the back, and then a sudden explosion rocked our world sideways. I was thrown against Kaz, who managed to keep me and his footing despite the blast.
I recovered and got back in my ducking position. Pain shot down my arm—nothing serious, but enough to jolt me back into laser-focus.
However, due to that new bomb, the heat shifted to suffocating, the smoke blinding, and this choking fog thickened, fueling my terror.
Kaz whispered, “We are close.”
“Good.”
Kaz’s grip on my hand tightened even more as he veered us towards the bathrooms.
Six exploded bodies blocked the female’s bathroom as if a line of women had been waiting outside of the door, and when the explosion came, the impact cut them into bits and sprayed them into a heap in front of the door.
Bile rose in my throat.
I stayed with Kaz as we passed.
Up ahead, the men’s room door hung off its hinges, half-obliterated by violence.
Dread washed over me.
What if our only escape route was blocked?
Kaz stopped us. “This will make some noise and signal them, so once we are in, move fast.”
“Got it.”
Kaz moved us forward, faster than when we were in the main room, and once we got close, he didn’t even slow down as he kicked at the remnants of the door with brute force.
I pointed the gun in the other direction just in case masked motherfuckers came our way.
The door gave out easily enough, and we stumbled into a bathroom that looked like it had been pulled straight from a war-torn city.
Thank God. We are going to get out of here.