Page 152

I can’t save him. I can’t fix him. I should’ve known this.

You can’t change someone who doesn’t put in the work.

Suddenly, quick footsteps reach our ears. We huddle behind the tall boxes, my crowbar lifted and ready.

A silhouette of a tall, muscular man in a baseball cap comes into view, his boots clomping on the wet puddles in the alley. He’s holding a gun.

I don’t recognize him.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

I hold my breath, readjusting my grip on the crowbar.

I can aim for his balls. Then a swift jab into his eyes before stomping on his wrists. I’ll kick the weapon away and crush the windpipe. The side benefit of being a doctor is knowing the human anatomy very well. Never piss off a doctor.

“Bree? This is Jacques. Elias sent me,” the man says.

Bree moves, but I grab her wrist. How do we know he’s telling the truth?

She swivels her head my way, her eyes widening when she no doubt thinks the same thing.

“Cottontail,” the man murmurs.

Bree’s shoulders relax. She mouths,“That’s the code word. He’s legit.”

Blowing out an exhale, I nod.

She steps out of the shadows, and the man scans her before approaching. His steps falter when he sees me behind her.

“She’s my friend. Got caught in the crossfire,” Bree says.

Jacques nods. “Not surprising. These things rarely go according to plan. But we can deal with this. Let’s go. No time to waste. The Association sent assassins into the gala.”

He lowers his gun and beckons us to follow him. We walk at a rapid clip, my sweaty hands losing grip on the crowbar. But something tells me the night isn’t over yet, so I clutch it to my side as we hurry through the darkness.

Before we turn a corner, another shadow comes into view. Someone shorter. More slender.

“I’ll take her from you,” the shadow murmurs.

A woman steps into view, pointing a gun at us. Bree gasps, and I freeze.

She’s young, early twenties. Clad in all black. If it weren’t for her blond hair and pale skin, she’d blend into the night.

Leveling her weapon at Jacques, she motions to Bree. “Hand Gabriella over to me now before I put a bullet in your head.”

Without warning, Jacques pulls Bree in front of him, like she’s a human shield.

“You’ll have to go through her first,” he rasps.

My jaw drops. What? Isn’t Jacques on our side? Isn’t he supposed to protect Bree?

“I knew Elias had a snake on his team,” the woman says. “If Gabriella dies, you die.”

“If she dies, you get nothing. The Association always gets what it wants. And they’d take care of my family.” Jacques presses the barrel of his gun against Bree’s head. She whimpers and trembles in his grasp.

Shit. My mind spins a mile a minute, trying to catch up on what’s happening in front of me.

Jacques is a mole. We’ve walked right into The Association’s trap.