“Give me strength,” I whispered, breathing out. “And don’t fucking let those assholes take them from me.”
Levin pulled up with my SUV moments later. I hauled open the passenger door and climbed in wordlessly. Fallon was in the back on his phone, typing out a text.
“Stella and Aubrey are going back to Bolten in my car,” he said tightly, darkening his screen as we sat.
“Where do we go?” Levin asked softly, his hands trembling.
“I honestly don’t have an answer,” I said, my head spinning.
How the fuck had I let this happen?Both Vin and Bianca. They could already be dead. My guts churned with the nausea of what it could mean. I’d fucking die with them. I’d kill myself because I didn’t want to go through this world without them. The drunk fuck had been a distraction. Probably someone they’d sent up to us.
My phone rang. I stared down at a number I didn’t recognize. Levin and I locked eyes as I answered it and lifted it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Dominic De Santis,” a rich, deep voice greeted me. “I wish I could say it was a pleasure to finally speak to you, but I’d be lying.”
“De Luca,” I snarled back, trying to quell the rage boiling in my veins. “Where’s my wife? Where’s Vincent?”
“Both out cold at the moment.”
“I’m not the fucking guy who shot your shit up.”
“Sounds like something someone who shot my shit up would say when I have his hot as fuck wife and best friend, doesn’t it? I mean, you see my predicament, right?”
“What do you want? I can prove I’m not the guy.”
“I want you to die, De Santis. It’s not like I’m asking a lot. Give yourself up to me and fucking die. It’s simple, really. Your life for your wife’s. I won’t be able to release the other one. Unless, of course, you’d rather die for him instead of her. A soul for a soul.”
“The lords did the shooting. They lied and left our calling card. I was at my fucking wedding reception when it happened.” My hand shook as I pressed the phone to my ear. “We’re at war with them over a bunch of shit. It wasn’t me who did that to you.”
“Your life for hers, De Santis. Or his. Your choice. I must say it would be a shame to lose her though. She really is beautiful. And this dress. Her tits are real, huh? Fucking nice.”
“Don’t you dare fucking touch her. I’ll come to you. Where are you?”
“The warehouse on Ninth and Broadway. I’ll make it nice and easy for you. First floor. No weapons. No cops. You show up with any of those things, and I’ll kill them both on sight. Capisci?”
“Capisco,” I said tightly.
“Within the hour. My finger is getting itchy. Tick tock, De Santis.”
The line went dead.
“Ninth and Broadway. The old warehouse on the corner,” I rasped, my chest tight.
Levin peeled out of the parking lot. I pulled a gun out of my glove box. Then I grabbed one from under my seat and handed it to Levin along with a magazine for each of us.
“Hope you have a weapon,” I said to Fallon.
“I do. Several,” he said, his voice a soft grunt.
“We don’t know what we’re up against, Dom—” Levin started.
“Does it matter?” I snapped. “It’s our girl, and it’s Vin. De Luca wants my death in exchange for one of them. It’s either her or him. One of them has to die according to De Luca.”
Levin tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “Son of a bitch.”
Fallon adjusted his jacket and scrubbed his hand down his face. “I’ll die in place of Vincent.”
“You’re not getting the fucking glory, you fucking Russian dicklick,” Levin snapped.
“If Bianca loses Vin, she’ll fucking die of heartbreak. I’ll die so she won’t feel his loss, you fucking German taterdick.”
“And then she’d mourn you,” I shouted. “It’s a no-win situation. Whatever happens, whoever survives, just fucking take care of her. Keep her happy. Take her far the fuck away from this shit and never let anyone harm her again.”
We fell silent as we continued our trek. I breathed out, an idea taking shape. I opened the glove box and pulled out the grenade Vander Veer had given me.
“Is that a fucking grenade?” Fallon asked as I glanced back at him and then to Levin, who gave me a slow nod, seemingly on the same page.
“I fucking hope they can catch,” I said softly, gripping the grenade tightly before I put it into my jacket pocket.
I hadn’t started the night out thinking I was going to die, but my life never went to plan. I expected to die at some point like this. If I got to take out a few cocksuckers on my way out, then I was ready to pull the pin.
If dying for someone I loved was how I was going out, I’d gladly take my last breath with her name on my lips. For wasp, I’d do anything.
Always.