“Fuck!” he yells as his gun drops to the floor. He turns away and I’m immediately at his side.
Blood gushes from his sliced lip and I add a matching scar to the other side of his face. A howl of pain escapes his mangled lips and fear skates down my spine. This motherfucker is being too loud.
I shut him up with a punch to the nose, and then with another right between the eyes. His skull cracks and he collapses, unconscious, to the already bloody floor. There’s no point in waiting around for him to wake up, so I make sure he never does. The shiny blade of my knife finds his throat, and then I deposit his weapons along with the others outside, out of harm’s way.
Just as I’m canvassing the rest of the floor for more targets, the white lights start to sputter. It’s disorientating as hell, and I’m forced to throw myself into the nearest corner and shut my eyes to ride it out. If this happens while I’m fighting someone, it could be the death of me.
Luckily, no one appears as the lights flicker back into a steady stream of illumination. The walls vibrate with heavy bass and for a moment I’m thankful for the loud music; it seems to have masked the cries of my victim.
My next move is for the door marked ‘Exit’ just up ahead. If I know my little brother, he’ll be locked away in some top floor VIP office, where he can watch his eternal party play out from behind a bullet proof window pane. For Oscar’s sake, I hope that glass is also sound proof.
When I get to the top floor, I don’t stop. Instead, I go all the way to the roof. There, I bust through the door and scan my surroundings. Not only will the flare have to be fired from up here, but this will be Oscar’s best bet, too. The ground floors will be too heavily guarded to get through, and, while I could take care of all those guards now, it’s not worth the risk. If a single one of them lives long enough to sound any alarm, and I lose the element of surprise against Dante, then Oscar is put at more risk than ever. I can’t have that.
When I figure out a promising route of escape, I re-check all my weapons and wipe the blood off of my switchblade, then I message Aldar with the address of where we’re going to meet after I have my son.
After all that, I head back inside, ready to finally take back what’s mine.
31
Catalina
Dante makes me wait.
The cruel bastard.
A pounding headache of anxiety and stress threatens to tear my skull apart as I sit at gunpoint in the lobby outside of his top floor office. The thin white walls vibrate from the pulsing techno music below. This is no place for a baby...
If my heart wasn’t so incensed at the idea that Dante has been keeping my child here, then I might be sad enough to keel over.
... Poor Oscar, his little ears must be on fire.
“Up,” one of the guards orders me off the couch. The barrel of his assault rifle glares at me as I’m gestured towards the big set of double doors at the far end of the all-white lobby. It’s a stark contrast from the black decor outside, and so tacky that it could make a woman with less on her mind puke, but this is no time to concentrate on designer flaws and bad taste. I’m here to see Oscar, and if I get my chance, I’m here to kill Dante.
I’ve sharpened my nails into razor blades. Whether or not they can pierce human skin is yet to be seen, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself if Angel’s little brother dares bare his neck to me.
“In,” the cold butt of the guard’s gun pushes me through the automatic doors as they open up before us. There are almost no lights on inside, and it takes me a moment to adjust my eyesight to the new darkness. The second I do, the doors slam shut behind me and a whole new wave of blackness blinds my vision.
“Took you long enough...” a familiar hiss comes from some shadow.
I rub my eyes, desperate to gain my bearings. The last thing I need is for Dante to tie me up before I can make a lunge for my baby boy.
Slower than I’d like, my vision finally adjusts to the dark ro
om. My head turns on a swivel, searching for the devil himself.
He’s not behind me—in fact, no one is. The guards that brought me here appear to be waiting outside. Could Dante be stupid enough to meet me alone?
“Over here,” the snake hisses again. I search for the source, but the longer I look the more everything seems to darken. Where’s Oscar? I don’t see him anywhere. My gut tightens like shrinking bark around a growing trunk as I consider the worst possible outcome...
Then, a pale white spectre steps out of the shadows. My first reaction is to shrink away from the slimy ghost, but my pride won’t let me flinch far. This is the man who I’ve come to kill. This is the man who ruined my life and took my son.
Fuck this piece of shit.
“You’re looking... well,” Dante taunts me as he starts to pace. My frantic eyes dart between him and every other point in the room as I search for any signs of Oscar. There’s nothing, not even a sound.
The walls in here don’t vibrate; the bass from the pulsing music outside has disappeared, and even the flashing lights are barely visible through the giant, tinted glass window pane that lines the west wing of the full floor office, but still, there’s no sign of my baby boy.
“Where is he?” I demand. My voice is jittery and quiet, but I push through my nerves. This needs to be done, even if it means I’m harmed in the process.