Page 59 of One Kill

I need back up.

“Suit yourself.”

At his words, I turn to Hallie, our eyes meeting in a brief window of time before all fucking Hell breaks loose.

“Run.”

“No.” Shaking her head, tears running down her face and lips trembling as she tries so fucking hard to be strong, I curse as the searing pain in my thigh hits me at the same time as the pop from the gun.

“Run!” I scream the one word out again but it’s too late.

The six guys approach us like they’re circling a wounded, feral animal, all of them aiming guns at us. I can’t understand why they’d want her.

“Who sent you?” It’s just as the words leave my mouth that movement on the cemetery’s path steals my attention.

A black sedan with tinted windows slowly rolls up and stops just feet away from us as two of the guys grab me at the same time as two others tear Hallie away from me.

I stab them both in quick succession, aiming at their livers, hell, any vital organ will do at this point. I know my leg is bleeding but I’m pure adrenaline, fighting for my daughter’s life. Plus, I’ve been hurt worse than this and still come out victorious.

“Fucking cunt, she stabbed me!”

No shit, asshole.

It’s only when the knife is slapped out of my hand and a meaty arm is wrapped around my throat that I start kicking and snapping my head back to break their noses again.

“Mom!” Hallie’s howl wounds me worse than the fucking bullet, prompting me to fight even harder.

In my struggle, I hope they’re taking me with her. I can handle that, as long as we’re together. Except it’s immediately clear, as I watch two men dragging a kicking and screaming Hallie off to the car, that I’m of no interest to them whatsoever. Instead, the rest of these fuckheads are holding me down and laughing as I try desperately to get to my daughter.

“Hallie!” I scream back, my heart being ripped right out of my chest all over again as I see her arms reaching out for me, begging me to save her, pleading with her eyes to get her away from those two men.

One of the windows begins to roll down and there, framed by the shiny black of the sedan, is the cold, unmoving face of Murphy’s mother.

“You ain’t so scary after all, huh?” I’m frozen still, watching them almost throw Hallie into the car, her screams loud enough to reach my buzzing ears. “Grandma and Grandpa will take good care of her, it’s where she belongs. Now, we were hopin’ to get to kill ya but they said it would cause an all-out war with the Italians and we don’t want that.”

Once the car is out of sight, I turn my glare to the henchmen and grin like a psychopath who’s just smelled fresh blood.

“No, you don’t. Yet, here we are.”

At my words, they all scoff. One Tooth Guy pushes me to the ground and slams his foot to my ribs, laughing like he’s playing soccer with his pals. Another places his heel to my thigh, pressing on the bullet wound and helping the blood to spill quicker than I’d like. The others follow suit as I grunt and hiss with every blow to my body.

All the while, I stare at them, not giving them an ounce of my pain. Instead, I memorize their faces, every little detail of their ugly fucking mugs.

Pop! Pop!

Two of them drop to the ground as I turn to my back and stare up at the sky between the rustling branches of the oak tree, mentally thanking Hallie for sending out the message to Marco. He called for my Reapers and just like a tight-knit family, we always come for our brothers and sisters. Our boss can’t show his face in Newark, it’s not his territory, but I’m willing to bet that this little Irish stunt is going to wake up some sleeping monsters from the other side of the Hudson.

As I move, trying to stand, I watch as the skinhead goons run for their lives while heavy footsteps come running toward me. My phone bumps into my hand and, without thinking twice, I pick it up, the screen lighting up with a message from my crew saying they’re on their way.

Then I remember the message from my anonymous Robin and grit my teeth.

Which loss is he talking about? Was he talking about Murphy or did he know this was about to happen?

In any case, it’s all too little, too late.

Me: Fuck you.