The fat man stepped in front of me. I wriggled backwards, but the blond man holding me was way too strong for me to even think about getting loose. Then the fat man reached a hand out and stroked my chin. I gulped as his fingers ran down my throat, down past my collarbone.
When he yanked the top of my dress down, I moaned into the hand that was gagging me and pushed away, but there was nowhere to go. He squeezed my tit so hard it hurt.
“Good choice,” he said, nodding with a smile that made my bones turn to ice. “Gag her.”
That was it. I wasn’t going to get taken that easily. I bit down hard on the blond man’s hand. My teeth sunk into his palm and he shouted, pulling his hand away. His grip loosened just enough for me to send one good kick to his knee. He dropped me. I jumped sideways, a scream halfway out of my throat, before he caught me again. This time one of the other men stuffed a handful of fabric into my mouth and tied a gag around the back of my head. I kicked, but the blond man only held me tighter.
“What about those two?” the blond man asked, as he held me back from running. He was talking about April and James. April was still sobbing.
“Take the girl.”
The other men in black suits pulled April to her feet. She started screaming from behind her gag, hoarse muffled screams. How long had they been out here? I met her eyes for only a second. Then the men opened up the back of one of the black SUVs and shoved her inside, slamming the door behind her.
James struggled, but his hands were tied behind his back and there were two men on either side of him holding him down by the shoulders. He couldn’t do anything. My heart pounded faster.
“And this one?”
The fat man with the mustache glanced down. James went white as the man stood over him with no trace of mercy.
“Kill him.”
Chapter Thirteen
Vale
“Kill him.”
One of El Alfa’s henchmen stepped forward, his hand already on his gun. Jessica wrenched back in my arms, trying desperately to twist out of my grasp. It wouldn’t do any good. I wasn’t about to let her go. But she didn’t have to see this. I pushed her toward the SUV that we’d come in. She screamed from behind the gag, her eyes wide as she craned her head to see the boy. I shut the door behind her quickly, but she pressed her face up against the window, still trying to make herself heard from behind the gag.
I turned, standing in front of her view. The henchman had taken the gun from his holster and was stepping toward the boy.
What shitty luck. He should have let his girlfriend go outside alone to puke. If he hadn’t been with her, he wouldn’t be dead. My mind kept cycling excuses, trying to keep calm. In control.
I clasped my hands loosely in front of me. Any pity I felt for him was locked down so deeply that I couldn’t even feel it, not really. My face was smooth, I knew, smooth and controlled. If El Alfa wanted to see how I reacted to a murder, he would be sorely disappointed.
But, as it turned out, he wanted to see more from me.
“Wait.”
All of the men looked up at El Alfa’s words. He reached out and took the gun from his henchman’s hand.
“But—”
“Hush,” El Alfa said to the man. The man looked up at him with a scowl on his face, like he was a child that had just been reprimanded, but that expression quickly disappeared. El Alfa hefted the gun in his hand.
Then he held it out to me.
My eyes flicked from the gun to his face. He didn’t mean—
“You are new here,” El Alfa said, his voice rasping over my nerves. “Take it.”
My jaw started to clench, but I forced myself to relax. I held out my hand and El Alfa set the gun down on my open palm. I wrapped my hand around the gun, my finger stroking the side of the trigger. As I hefted it, El Alfa gripped my wrist. His palm was hot and sweaty but the grip was an iron vise.
“You have killed before?” he asked me.
I forced myself to look at him levelly, even as my heart sank. He wouldn’t make me do this. He couldn’t. And yet as I stood there, the metal of the gun warming in my hand, I knew that he was capable of this, this and so much more. His tongue darted out, small and pink beneath his oily black mustache.
“Yes,” I said.
“Good,” he said. He let go of my hand. The place where he had gripped me went cool. “Then this is a good chance for you to show me what you know.”
What I knew? My mind reeled forward all of my training. How to kill someone with a rope, a knife, a gun. I knew all of the body parts that hurt most to be shot. If you want information, you break someone’s finger or shoot them in the knee. Avoid the femoral artery, or they’ll die too quickly. If you want someone to die slow, you shoot them in the stomach. If you want them to die fast—