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going to kill me. He reached for the belt loops on my pants and tugged me a few inches closer. He yanked my badge free and scoffed at it. Then he forced my head to the side. “Beg,” he whispered.

The smell of the broken liquor bottles nauseated me and burned my eyes. I gasped again, forcing the impeding darkness to momentarily dissipate. And that’s when I spotted my gun. I stretched out, reaching for it beneath the shelf.

“We don’t have time for that,” the other one hissed. “Don’t you hear the sirens? The police are coming.”

“Again with the fucking sirens? What did I tell you about smoking that shit?” This time, a third voice joined the mix.

“You all right, Diego?” Gravelly Voice asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“Then keep watch. The police will be here soon.”

That’s when I realized there were three of them. We had no way of knowing before. Now it made sense. The third uniform. The way they split up. Two with dark hair, one with light. I had to tell Brad. He needed to know.

Two of them crouched over me, but with the masks I couldn’t tell them apart. One of them grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. “How long?” he asked. I caught a glimpse of him in the dim lights. Dark hair beneath the Halloween mask, but he didn’t have the gravelly voice. The one with the gravelly voice was in charge. This must be Diego. A welt the size of a plum stuck out from his temple where I hit him with the bottle. “How long for patrol to arrive?”

“Fuck you,” I spat.

“Don’t be stupid,” Diego warned.

“Let’s speed this up.” Gravelly Voice forced a gun into the palm of the third man. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought he might have been the blond. “Kill her or I’ll kill you.” Gravelly Voice stepped back and aimed at the back of his accomplice’s head.

“Yeah, okay.” The blond stared at me for a long time. I found his gaze disconcerting and vaguely familiar. He checked to make sure the weapon was loaded, flipped the safety, and aimed at me.

I stretched my arm farther beneath the shelf. Pain radiated down the side of my neck, across my collarbones, and along the muscles in my arm, but I had to get my gun. My breath came in frantic, short gasps. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t control my breathing.

He pressed the barrel against my temple, and I closed my eyes, unable to move or talk. My entire body had practically shut down since I’d gone through the cooler door, but I couldn’t figure out why.

“Wait.” Gravelly Voice crouched down. “I want to leave a message first.” He towered over me. “Don’t worry, bitch. Your friends are gonna join you soon enough. You won’t burn in hell alone.”

He ran his fingers against the side of my neck. I screamed, feeling as if he’d stabbed me with ice or burned me with a poker. Expelling that much air nearly knocked me out. I was drowning in the black bubbles. As a last ditch effort, I clawed more frantically beneath the shelving for my gun and managed to hook my middle finger inside the trigger guard.

I pulled it closer, finding it difficult to get my shoulder unwedged from beneath the shelf to draw on them.

Gravelly Voice stood up. “That’s done. Now, blow her brains—”

“The cops are here. I see lights,” Diego said. I couldn’t see him, but his voice came from near the front door.

“Shoot her now,” Gravelly Voice retreated, leaving the blond behind.

I stared up at him, my shallow gasps almost sounded like choked laughter, taunting him. But I couldn’t help it. No matter how much I gasped, I couldn’t get enough oxygen. “Please,” I managed.

He stared at me. “I’m sorry.”

I freed the gun from beneath the shelf and fired. I didn’t even have the strength to aim, but the gunshot scared him. He bolted from beside me and ran for the front door.

I stared up at the ceiling, unable to see anything. Even the neon sign on the wall was nothing but a hazy blur. Everything dimmed. I felt cold, except for the burning in my neck. I sputtered, gagging now.

Two officers burst through the front door with guns at the ready and their flashlights aimed. I couldn’t call to them, but they found me.

“Shit. It’s DeMarco.” One of them knelt down beside me. “Liv, hey, come on now. You have to hang on.” Officer Roberts keyed his radio. “Officer down. I need an ambulance rolled to this location. Hurry.” He rolled me onto my side, so I wouldn’t choke. “Clear the building, Ainsley.”

“Yes, sir.” The other officer headed toward the back.

“Olive, don’t you fucking die on me. I don’t need that kind of shit raining down on my career.” He took out a knife and sliced a strip off the bottom of my shirt, then he ripped it across and rolled it up. He pressed it against the side of my neck, tore off a second strip, and put it against the back of my neck.

“Clear,” Officer Ainsley said.

“Good, get down here and help me,” Roberts said. “See what you can find to hold this in place, and whatever you do, don’t remove the glass. She’ll bleed out if you do.”

“She’s going to bleed out anyway.”

“Bite your tongue. This is Vince DeMarco’s kid.” Roberts kept his hand against my neck. “You hang on, Olive. You hear me?”

Twenty-six

“Shit.” Carter couldn’t stop shaking. “Shit.” He yanked the mask off his face, sucking in deep breaths. “Pull over.”

Diego glanced at him from the rearview mirror. “Not yet. We’re still too close.”

“Oh god.” Carter clutched his stomach and hurled.

“Son of a bitch.” The third man turned around, waited for Carter

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