CHAPTER 22 #3
“Thank you for making Damián this happy.” She holds out the gun. My jaw drops. It’s the exact 9mm Damián just took from me in the command center.
Seeing my shocked expression, she smiles.
“As I said, I see everything. Now go help our boy.”
I take the gun, tucking it away, and bolt through the automatic glass doors, where I find Zara waiting in her pink Porsche.
She throws the passenger door open and yells, “Run, Shawshank!”
I jump inside, slamming the passenger door shut as I throw the red cookie box onto her lap. “Payment.”
“Most appreciated,” Zara says with a grin.
She grabs the box, tosses it over her shoulder onto her purse in the back seat, and stomps on the gas.
— ¤ —
“Wow, Ollie,” Kaleo says, his eyes widening as we pull up to the docks. “Did you fuck the Gingerbread Man?”
Zara bursts out laughing, leaning against the side of the car.
I glare at him, stepping out of the Porsche. “Ha. Ha. So incredibly funny.”
“You should’ve seen him before,” Zara gasps, wiping a tear from her eye. “This is him after cleaning up.”
Kaleo chuckles, gesturing toward the water. “Well, I’m so glad you cleaned up for my boat. Get in. We’ll reach the Hamptons in thirty-five minutes.”
We get into the boat, and Kaleo takes off, going as fast as the limit will allow without getting us arrested.
The wind whips past my face, but I barely feel it. All I can do is clutch the 9mm gun tightly in my pocket and pray. Pray that Damián and the rest follow every single warning I gave them. Pray that they are all going to be okay.
Pray that they stay alive.
“What’s the plan, Ollie?” Zara asks, already munching on her fifth ginger cookie.
“You drop me at the east beach and leave,” I tell her flatly.
Kaleo scoffs from the steering wheel. “There is no way we are just dumping you there.”
“Hell no,” Zara agrees, crossing her arms.
I turn to look at them. “I’m not taking you into this with me.”
“You just spent half an hour breaking out of a room, bitching about how Damián left you behind while he ran into a warzone,” Zara points out, gesturing at me with a half-eaten cookie. “And now you want to do the exact same thing to us?”
I open my mouth to tell her it’s completely different, but the words catch in my throat. I look at her, then out at the water, and realize that in a way… It’s not.
She is right.
And for a split second, I actually understand why Damián locked me in that room. Not that I would ever admit it to his face, of course.
Fine,” I say. “You don’t have to leave, but you stay on the boat. Just in case.”
“Deal,” Zara agrees.
“Brace yourselves,” Kaleo interrupts, slowing down the boat. “We’ll reach the beach in five minutes.”
Zara gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh my…”
I follow her gaze, and my heart drops into my stomach. The Hamptons estate is surrounded by black smoke, fire and death.
The sound of dozens of bullets terrifies me, but it’s also a lifeline. Gunshots mean they’re still fighting. And still fighting means they’re still alive.
Please be alive. Please, Damián, stay alive.
The second the hull scrapes the shallow sand near the dock, I squeeze Zara and Kaleo’s shoulders, and vault over the side.
I hit the ground running, charging straight into the freaking war zone.
I sprint across the lawn, keeping low as bullets go all over the place. The garden is a mess full of broken trees, shattered fountains, debris, and scattered bodies.
It looks like the hell Rafael always craved.
As I run toward the gunfire, I force myself to look at the faces of each of the bodies I pass. Each time, I thank the Lord that everyone in sight belongs to my brother’s security team and not a single one belongs to mine.
All the Harknett’s are alive.
I run toward the side patio, but freeze when I catch movement near the pool area.
Through the haze, and smoke, I see Tae engaged in a hand-to-hand fight with a guard. Tae is incredibly fast, dodging a swing and countering with a strike to the ribs, but the guard catches him off balance.
His fist connects with Tae’s jaw, sending him stumbling back against a large planter made of stone.
Tae recovers fast, but the guard is now aiming a pistol straight at his chest.
“Tae!” I scream, but there is no way he can hear me with this noise.
So I stop, raise my 9mm, and squeeze the trigger.
The gun kicks in my hand so hard I almost drop it, and the bullet hits the guard in his knee.
He screams, his leg instantly buckling outward as he collapses onto the pavement.
I lower the gun and sprint across the patio, immediately dropping down beside Tae and grabbing his arm to help him up.
“Are you okay?” I pant, trying to pull him to his feet.
But instead of answering, Tae’s eyes widen in sheer horror as he looks past my shoulder.
“No! Oliver, move!” he screams, shoving his hand against my chest to push me backward.
I twist around just in time to see the guard I shot. Despite his shattered knee, the man has managed to drag himself back up to his feet and he’s now right on top of me, with a long knife in his hand ready to stab me to death.