A slight breeze picks up my hair, blowing it across my face as I push out onto the street, blinding me for a few seconds.
I wish it would make me invisible to the rest of the world.
Noise from a car honking alerts me to a headache forming, a marching band drumming through my head.
A light feather of rain drops to my cheek in warning of an imminent downpour.
Cars screech to a halt a few yards away from the club entrance, drawing attention.
My heart skips when a flurry of men begin jumping out, sending my stomach to my feet.
They’re carrying guns.
Not like we have on the farm, but the ones you see in action movies.
My head whirls. My bag drops to the ground.
Noise, loud and piercing, all around me.
Glass shattering.
Deafening screams.
Fear has its own distinct sound. The pitch of terror clawing its way up the oesophagus before pushing past the lips, alerting everyone around to the horror happening.
That sound will forever be stained on my memory.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Bullets fire, making a small thud as they connect with the soft tissue of a security guard standing just in front of me.
The man topples to the sidewalk, and people on the street attempt to flee.
The air leaves my lungs in a whoosh.
I push back through the door and run down the steps toward the man whose eyes are filled with dread.
Luca? My cold obsession.
I’ve never seen that look from him before, it douses my soul in horror, my heart ceasing to beat.
“Run,” I scream, my voice sounding distorted to my own ears just as the doors behind me open.
Luca reaches me and picks me up. Rushing through the second set of doors, he shouts, “Code red!”
The security guy guarding the second door punches a code into a panel on the wall. A clanking sounds, then a steel shutter falls from the ceiling, almost decapitating one of the gunmen as he opens the door, but not in time to stop the metal shutter from sealing the door with us inside.
The soft pinging of bullets can be heard by us standing close, but the music is so loud, everyone else is oblivious to the carnage that awaits them outside.
“Check all exits,” he orders his men, not releasing me. “The code sends an alert straight to the police. It’s going to be okay,” he assures me.
A sob shatters my chest. I came close to being shot and killed tonight, yet it’s being back in his arms that brings on the sorrow and fear.
Now that I know how it feels being his focus, being kissed by him, I don’t think any other man will ever come close to inciting what he does within me.
“It’s okay, Alyssa,” he tells me, his grip tightening as he moves us through the club and into the office he broke my heart in moments before.
“Who were those men?” I ask when he deposits me on a small leather couch.
“Dead men walking,” he states firmly. “Are you okay? Did you get injured?” His hands roam over my body, his eyes searching.
“I’m okay,” I tell him, rubbing up my arms, suddenly feeling chilled. “What was that shutter?” I ask, never having seen something like that before.
“It’s a security precaution—something I never thought we’d need. A lot of clubs have them installed now.”
I think of the times on the news when nightclubs became targets for terrorists and hate crime. Acid stirs in my stomach.
“I need you to wait here. I’ll be back, okay? Don’t leave this room,” he orders me, his word such a contradiction to the ones minutes before.
Is this why he said he doesn’t want me around, because bad things happen around him?
I think of the girl whose ghost must be haunting this place. Is he afraid I’ll end up like her?
The gravity of the situation hasn’t sunken in, but takes its toll on my body.
I lay down on the couch, my eyes closing. I need to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Luca
Locking the office door with Alyssa inside settles the racing of my heart.
I can’t believe how close she came to being killed.
I underestimated the threat level of the Blaydon brothers.
This was a revenge attack—and it’s going to cost them everything. I will wipe their bloodline from this world, decimate everything they’ve built and turn it to rubble.
“Bring up the cameras at the front entrance,” I bark to the security guy as I enter Ricardo’s office.
Flitting his fingers over keys he points to one of the large monitors. There’s no one outside now, droplets of rain move past the camera, the wailing of sirens sound. There are a few bodies lying on the sidewalk. How did they think they’d get away with this? The tendons in my neck strain, I need to fucking kill these bastards.
“Mr. Luca,” Ricardo says, holding up a phone receiver, his face pale, “it’s for you.”