Before I could formulate an answer, I heard the car pulling up. It was a shiny black sedan with blacked out windows. It was the same car from the park! The old man had been right. I should have run.
Three men got out. It looked like the same three men from the attack at the park, but I knew two of them had taken shots to the head. Whoever hired them just had a knack for finding guys who fit that particular mold.
I reached for the gun in the waistband of my jeans.
“I wouldn’t do that, Sasha,” one of the men said, approaching me slowly, carefully, with one hand out and the other tucked into his black suit jacket.
I looked around. I could feel myself starting to panic. I looked for an escape route.
For the last five years, I’d been able to get out of any jam I got myself into. I’d been able to steal from every crime boss in the city—and there were many. But in the last couple of weeks, I’d been caught three times now.
“Your boyfriend isn’t going to save you this time,” a second one said.
The third one grabbed my arms.
“Fuck it,” I said under my breath. I was pretty sure Fang had sent these guys this time. I kicked myself for not listening to Cole when he tried to convince me that he’d sent the guys after me at the park.
I shifted my weight and threw Number Three over my shoulder. He landed on his side in front of me, forcing the other two to step aside. They looked down at their fallen comrade and then back at me. Through their dark sunglasses, I could only imagine what their eyes must have looked like, probably just as expressionless as their square jaws and tight lips.
These men were programmed like robots not to show any emotions. They were probably going to take me, but I was going to get some emotion out of them first.
I stepped back and lowered my center of gravity. They were all taller and wider than I was. They had very square bodies with thin, broad shoulders and long arms and legs. They all had black hair cut short and brushed back. They were easy targets, as they hadn’t expected me to fight back.
Number One pulled out his gun, and I quickly disarmed him with a kick to his hand. The gun hit the ground and slid underneath the car. While he stepped back and grabbed his hand, Number Three tried to dive under the car to get the gun, but a couple of kicks to his head left him at least unconscious if not worse.
That was when Number Two grabbed me from behind and found his face slammed against the front driver side window. He backed away, stunned.
That left Number One again. I turned to face him and reached behind my back for my gun—it wasn’t there.
“Looking for this?” Number One asked, holding up the gun.
“How in the hell?” I blurted out.
He shrugged and pointed the gun at me.
“It doesn’t matter, because if you don’t calm down and get in the car, well, I’m sure you can guess what’s going to happen.”
Numbers Two and Three stepped to either side of me.
“Glad to see I didn’t hurt you too much,” I offered condolences to Number Three.
“Better than what we’re going to do to you,” he threatened. He tossed the gun he’d pulled out from under the car to Number One.
I saw my opportunity when Number One looked away to holster his gun. I knew very well that if I wasn’t successful in fighting these assholes off, it could have been my last stand. What they didn’t seem to realize, was that I was pretty sure Fang had sent them. If that were indeed the case, there was only so much they could do before they got in trouble with him. He wouldn’t have accepted my dead body. And anything short of that was fine by me, so it didn’t matter.
Using my skills as a thief in the night, I shoved myself against Number One and grabbed his hand, bringing his arm around in front of me until the gun was aimed at Number Two. His reflexes kicked in, and he squeezed the trigger. Number Two’s chest erupted in a red spray, and he fell back against the car.
Number Three watched his comrade fall to the ground and dove down to his side to help him out, but it was pretty obvious it was too late.
I jerked Number One’s arm down, bending it the wrong way and forcing him to drop the gun. I quickly spun away from him and grabbed the gun. My back against the car, I aimed at One, then at Three.
“I’m leaving,” I told them. “Either one of you tries to stop me, you’re going to be on the ground like your buddy there. Got it?”
One raised his hands up, showing me he was unarmed. Three stayed on the ground with Two, who wasn’t responding to anything, much less to my threat. I started to back away from them, sliding myself along the back of the sedan until I was past the rear bumper.