I reloaded my weapon and then fired. I hit the one person, knocking her over. The other fired back. Cassidy ran as I fell back, pressing myself against the fence. The Spider grabbed the one I had shot and dragged her away, disappearing around the corner as I fired off a few more shots.
I limped after them, but by the time I got there, they were gone.
“Rafa!”
I turned, and Cassidy was waving at me. I limped toward her.
“The keys!” she yelled.
I threw her the car keys and she disappeared again, running as fast as she could. I felt exhausted and heavy, and I realized that it was probably blood loss. I headed down the alley until I came out to the sidewalk and then leaned up against the side of a house, catching my breath.
The car tore around the corner a second later. I climbed into the back and then she began to drive.
“You’re bleeding,” she yelled.
“I’m fine. Keep going.” I tore a strip off my shirt and used it as a bandage. She drove fast, getting away from there.
“What the hell was that, Rafa? Why would they do that?”
“I don’t know.”
“They give us the tape and then attack?”
“I don’t know,” I said again, but I had a pretty good idea.
They didn’t care about me. They wanted her. As far as I could guess, their plan had been simple. Give us the tape in case we got out of the trap. That way we wouldn’t get killed by the mob. But what they really wanted was to capture Cassidy, and probably kill me.
For what reason, though, I couldn’t guess. I was feeling too tired to really think properly. Everything felt fuzzy and heavy, the world a spinning haze of colors and motion.
Everything was moving slowly, like at the bottom of a swimming pool. I had thoughts, but they left just as soon as they came. I couldn’t hold on to anything, no matter how hard I tried.
“Rafa!”
What the hell are you yelling about?
“Rafa! Rafa! Wake up!”
I’m right here. I’m awake.
“Rafa!”
A sharp sting across my face.
I jolted back to consciousness. I blinked at Cassidy, worry and fear etched into her face. “I’m good,” I managed to say.
“I don’t know where I’m going.”
I sat up and looked around. “Okay,” I said. “I can get us there.”
“Where? The hospital?”
“No. Compound.”
“You’re dying, Rafa! We need a hospital!”
“There’s one at the compound. Drive.”
She stared at me, terrified, but did as I asked.
I felt like I was on the verge of passing out again, but I had to resist it. I had to stay conscious and keep talking if I wanted to stay alive. This wasn’t the first time I’d been shot, but this was the worst. I was losing blood faster than I would have guessed.
She started driving like a maniac, and I gave her directions. I just kept talking, babbling really, saying a bunch of nonsense. I managed to get us out of the city and on the right path to the compound.
We pulled down the long road to the compound, and she blew right through the front gate. I smiled to myself but stopped speaking. I knew shit was about to go down, but I couldn’t do anything about it.
She roared the car into the front lot. I felt so damn tired and so damn heavy. I looked down and the seat was soaked with my blood.
The last thing I remembered before the world stopped was Cassidy yelling and someone grabbing hold of my arms.
25
Cassidy
I was drenched in Rafa’s blood. I’d never been covered in someone else’s blood before.
He had just been shot in the calf. I had thought he was going to be fine, but he hadn’t stopped bleeding. It had been coming so fast, I could barely believe it.
I thought he had died. But when I hit him, he came back to consciousness, and he managed to hold on long enough to get us back to the compound.
When I drove the car straight through the security gate, they descended on us like a swarm. That was good, though, because they quickly figured out what was happening, and men were there, grabbing Rafa and pulling him out of the car.
I was slumped in a chair in the waiting room of the mansion’s health clinic. Apparently, they had a full-time doctor and nursing staff, ready and waiting for things like this. Rafa had been dragged in there, and I’d been left alone in the waiting room, covered in his blood and blaming myself.
It was my fault.
Rafa hadn’t wanted to go from the very start. He had argued against it, wanted some backup, wanted to go to Vince. But I had pushed back, insisted that the Spiders wouldn’t do this to me, wouldn’t do this to us. I was the one who had pushed, and he had gone along with it.
Now he was in surgery, and I had no clue if he was going to survive.