No.
No.
He could not—he’d kill them. I would not have a hand in that.
He lowered his voice, “If I don’t take care of them, Estrada will—if he hasn’t already.”
I shrunk down in my seat, wrapped my arms as tight around myself as I could. “They’re innocents.”
“They saw your face.” He sighed. “I need an address. If you don’t give it to me, I’ll have Jake look through police records. They would’ve called the police. I’ll find them that way.”
I shook my head. “Raize, I can’t.”
He fell silent and we drove for a bit, but then he spoke, “Estrada won’t just execute them. He’ll take the woman and sell her. He’ll do the same with the kid. This happened today. That means if I don’t get to them, they will. Tonight. They’ll come in the middle of the night, and they will wipe out everyone in the house. Wife. Husband. Child. Teenagers. It doesn’t matter. I need an address.” He hit the steering wheel, barking out, “Now!”
I jumped.
Raize had never been violent toward me, but I heard his frustration, with rage simmering just underneath.
“Raize,” I whispered, tears sliding down my face.
They were like my sister.
They were innocent.
That little boy…
“I can’t.”
He expelled a ragged breath. “At least let me find them and relocate them.”
I looked over, not sure if I could trust the hope springing up in my chest. “What?”
“If I get to them first, we can control what happens. If I don’t, they’re gone no matter what. You have to see I’m the better option here.”
Raize was a killer. He’d kill them.
But… Estrada.
He was right about Estrada.
“You don’t think they’ve gotten to them yet?”
“No. Did she call the cops?”
I nodded. “I told her to give them a different description of me. She was already on the line.”
“That means cops might already have them under surveillance, but Estrada has men on the force. I’m a ghost here. I can do this. Let me. It’ll be more merciful. I promise.”
God.
I couldn’t.
He’d kill them.
But Estrada couldn’t get them either. That was worse, so much worse.
I heard myself whispering the address, and a second later, Raize had the truck whipped around.
We drove by the house first, and spotting a marked police car, Raize kept going. We went to get food for me, and I ordered extra, hoping I’d be able to give it to the woman and her son. I hoped against hope, because I didn’t know what Raize would do.
But then we came back, parked around the block, and we waited.
When dusk settled in, Raize handed me my gun and gave me instructions to shoot if anyone but him showed up. He left, pulling on a gray hoodie from the back of the truck. He put the hood up and ran down a back alley between houses. Then I saw him cut through someone’s yard.
I rolled my window down, just a smidge.
I kept expecting to hear a dog barking or gunshots, but I heard nothing.
A minute passed. Nothing.
Five, still nothing.
My stomach twisted, and I knew something was wrong.
Fuck. Fuck! Fuck!
I hated this shit. I hated this life.
The image of my sister flashed in my head.
Could I give her up? Stop looking for her? Escape and return to my old life?
Who was I kidding?
What life?
I knew the answer before I started moving. In one motion I reached for the door handle and tucked my gun inside my shirt. I shut the door so it only clicked softly, because my life might depend on it.
With my head down, I moved through the houses, feeling my soul pull away from my body because I knew—I just knew that what I’d find in that house would change me. Again.
This was another line I was going to cross.
For them. The woman. Her son. For my sister.
And for Raize, too.
I crept forward until I got to the sidewalk.
My insides clenched, but I kept moving forward. It felt a little like I was watching myself from outside my body.
An eerie calm washed over me, even as I raged on the inside, already tasting blood.
When I got to the marked car, it was empty. Going along a white fence between the house and the neighbors’, I was listening. I heard nothing, from either house.
It was dark now. Dusk had come and gone.
Still. Nothing.
There was an opening in the fence. I slipped the lock, swinging the door open. One of the hinges creaked, and I caught it, holding my breath. After a moment I eased through and closed it, quietly this time. No creak.
As I moved closer the back door opened. A guy stepped out. He came out to the back step, looking around.
He was the guy who’d been holding my arm earlier.
Where was Raize?
Pop! It was somewhat muted. How could I hear that?
Then I saw—a window was open. The room had lit up on that pop-pop.