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No time.

I drag myself up to my knees, body trembling. The wall towers behind me.

My feet slap against the cold dirt, the sharp sting of pebbles biting into my soles. There’s a warm wetness seeping down my shin where the fall tore my skin, and each step sends a jolt of pain up my leg. My breath comes out ragged, loud in the quiet of the night. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know if anyone’s looking for me.

All I know is that I have to run.

But I don’t make it far.

Rough hands grab me from behind, thick fingers clamping hard around my arms. I scream, but it’s swallowed by the woods around me. My body jerks back and I slam into something soft but unyielding—a wide chest. The stench of sweat and old tobacco hits me like a slap.

“Well, what do we have here?” a voice rasps near my ear, low and amused.

“Looks like a stray,” another voice says, higher-pitched, snake-like. I twist toward it and see a man—tall and thin, his cheekbones sharp, his eyes gleaming with something cold. Beside him, the man holding me is massive—round and greasy, his breath thick with garlic and beer.

“I—I’m from the party,” I manage to whisper, my voice shaking. “Please—I’m with the Tavano family. I was just trying to—”

They laugh. “The Tavano family?” the thin one mocks, stepping closer. “What are you, some party favor they left behind?”

“Or a cheap little hooker,” the fat one snorts, yanking me forward and shoving me hard to the ground.

The impact knocks the breath from me. My knees scrape against the gravel, and pain shoots up my thigh. I try to push myself up, but a boot presses down on my back.

“No!” I cry out, my voice cracking.

“Shut up,” the fat man grunts, and I hear the unmistakable sound of a zipper coming down.

Terror floods my chest like ice water. My body goes rigid.

Please. No. God please.

I open my mouth to scream—

A sharp whistle cuts through the night.

Everything stops.

The pressure on my back disappears. The two men jolt upright like startled dogs, cursing. One grabs me by the hair and drags me roughly toward the bushes. He shoves me into the brush, and twigs scrape across my face as I tumble into the thorns.

“Don’t make a sound,” the skinny one hisses. “Or we’ll put a bullet through your pretty little head.”

I clutch my chest, too stunned to cry, barely able to breathe. My heart is pounding so hard it aches.

I hear footsteps and then a new voice.

“Is it done?”

“Yes, sir,” the fat one says quickly. “The car’s rigged. Motion sensor’s set. First sign of movement and boom.”

“Good.” The voice is sharp, commanding. “Because if this backfires, Bellandi will have your guts strung across the lawn. And the Tavanos will feed what’s left to the dogs.”

There’s nervous laughter. “It’s perfect,” the thin one says. “The Tavanos won’t even know what hit them. They’ll all be in hell by midnight.”

My mouth dries. I press my shaking fingers to my lips to keep from sobbing.

The man gives a final warning, and then his footsteps fade.

The two return. I hear them, crunching through the grass like hunters. One of them chuckles.