Page 79

“What if she’s hiding and we walk right past her?” I mumble so only Vapor can hear me.

“If she spots one of our cuts, she will know it’s safe to come out,” Vapor says, reassuring me. He’s right, but it’s hard to contain the urgency that’s got me strung tight as a bowstring. Everything hinges on these next moments. Will we find her in time? Or will we be too late?

My gaze sweeps the terrain, searching for another sign that she came this way. And then I see it—a fresh set of footprints leading deeper into the morass, the imprint of a small, determined stride. My pulse quickens, adrenaline coursing through me. We’re on her tail now, and the chase is reaching its crescendo.

The dark, thick, green veil of the swamp parts like curtains as I push past hanging moss. Vapor’s right on my heels along with the rest of our crew.

“Wait!” Vapor grabs the back of my cut, stopping me.

“What?”

“There.” He points to a clearing up ahead. “I think I see someone.”

Time slows as my eyes adjust to the change in light and shadow. Two people stand in the center of the clearing. The taller one is holding the other in a death grip. Juan wraps his arm tighter around Isabella’s throat, a gun pressed to her temple, his dark eyes boring into mine.

“Drop your weapons,” Juan’s voice cuts through the night. As his grip on Isabella tightens even more, the whites of her eyes widen with fear.

I toss my gun into the darkness before motioning for Vapor and the others to back up. I don’t want them in the way. If Juan wants to kill someone, it’s going to be me. Not them.

“Let her go,” I say, keeping my voice even while a tempest of rage burns in my belly. I slowly venture closer as I speak, hoping my words are enough of a distraction. “This isn’t the way.”

“Isn’t it?” he sneers. “You come into my territory, disrupt my business, steal my sister from her family, and you think you can dictate how this ends?”

“She doesn’t want to be a part of your family anymore,” I growl, taking another step forward.

“The only way she gets out is if she dies.”

Vapor shifts behind me, restless as a caged animal. I throw him a look, one that says, “Hold steady.” This is chess, not checkers. Juan is the type of player who would sacrifice a pawn without a second thought. That’s all Isabella has ever been to him.

“Let her go. She doesn’t deserve this.” I let my gaze linger on her, silently promising that I’ll get her out of this. She gives me a tight smile.

“Deserve?” Juan laughs, a hollow sound. “Since when does what anyone deserves matter in our world? You know how this works. You’ve played the game just as long as I have.”

“Juan…” Isabella’s voice cracks. “Please…”

His arm jerks, reminding me of who’s in control. “Shut up, Isabella. This is between me and them.”

“Them?” I echo, my mind racing, looking for an angle. “Your beef is with me, not the club. Let her go, and we can settle this.”

“Settle this?” Juan snorts. “There’s nothing to negotiate. Only one of us has power. And right now,” he presses the gun harder against her temple, “that’s me.”

Juan’s finger tightens on the trigger, his eyes locking onto mine—challenging, taunting. He thinks he’s already won. Isabella’s eyes, those clear blue depths that have haunted my dreams, are wide with fear, yet there’s a defiance in them that tells me she hasn’t given up.

My gaze flicks between Juan and Isabella, searching for an opening, a weakness. I can’t let my emotions get thebetter of me, not when Isabella’s life hangs by a thread. The analytical part of my brain kicks into overdrive, dissecting the scene like a chessboard, calculating each potential move and its consequences. If I could just get closer…

“Killing her won’t get you what you want,” I say steadily, keeping my voice even, despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. It’s a risk, talking to him like this, but I need to keep him engaged, keep him thinking while I incrementally close the gap between us.

“Silencio!” he spits back at me, but I can tell he’s listening. He’s always been one to gloat, to savor his perceived victories. It’s his weakness, and I cling to that, letting it anchor me.

I take a slow breath, the swamp air thick in my lungs, and I let it out silently. My heart races, but outwardly, I remain perfectly still. Everything I do next has to be deliberate, precise.

“It’s me you want, right?” I keep my voice soft, almost intimate, as if we’re sharing a secret. “We can end this here, now. No more bloodshed.”

“Bloodshed?” His lip curls in disgust. “You think you’re some kind of hero, Ice? You’re just another thug on a bike, playing vigilante hero to a damsel in distress.”

“Maybe.” I shrug nonchalantly, sneaking another few inches forward. “But I’m willing to make a trade. Me for her.”

“No, Ice. Don’t do it,” Isabella pleads.