Page 4 of He Is Ours (Lovers in Crossfire #2)

Chapter four

Rachel

Oliver

turns

and

mouths

something to Alex, but I can’t tear my gaze away from Olivia walking away to care about what they are talking about.

I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know what to do to make her believe me, to understand that we had nothing to do with this, that all we want is for her to be back home with us.

My head is spinning with ideas as my hands are clenched around the hilt of my knives, and the anger starts to rise.

This is not how tonight was supposed to go!

It was supposed to end with Alex and me as the superheroes, saving the day and making everything right. And now… now I don’t even get to be the hero who saves the girl and lives happily ever after. Instead, the villain in me is showing her face, and the need to make someone pay is undeniable.

The anger burns through me, a fire demanding retribution. What they did to Olivia… It crossed a line. And there’s no turning back now. They will

face the consequences. Every second that ticks by fuels the urge to make them understand the cost of their actions. It’s not just about making things right anymore; It's about making them suffer for messing with what is mine!

No one messes with what is mine and lives to tell about it.

They destroyed her and took her beautiful light from her soul. I will destroy them in the most brutal way possible. Mark my words.

I turn around on my heels and start to walk away when a hand wraps around my arm to stop me.

“Where are you going?” Alex’s voice is strained as he tries to pull me into a hug. But I shrug him off, shoving him away from me.

“I'm sorry, I can't right now.” I snap, the words sharp with venom. “I am pissed, and someone needs to pay. I am going to find every mother fucker involved and make them all suffer. They will be hoping and praying for death by the time I am done with them.”

Alex raises an eyebrow; his gaze is unreadable, but he doesn’t stop me. Instead, he lets me walk away.

I walk back into the banquet hall, my eyes scanning the room. Everyone’s gone except the dead, fucking cowards. Everyone runs as soon as someone dies, but they are willing to buy a human for their own selfish needs.

One body lies still, his eyes wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling. A single bullet hole deep into his skull, dark blood dripping down his forehead, pooling beneath his head.

The second man is no better. Lifeless. Another bullet wound, but this one in the chest. His blood stains the fabric of his white button-up shirt.

And then there’s Tony. Fucking Tony. He’s clutching his stomach, his face frozen in terror, eyes wide with the realization of his demise. Dark and thick blood is still fresh beneath him, pooling around his body in glistening rivers.

The stench of death hangs in the air, choking me, but it only pushes me further.

Every one of these bastards deserved their end.

The guests? Lucky for them, they weren’t on my hit list..

. but their time will come, too. I can promise you that.

When I am done, there will be no one to purchase humans, so that the skin trade will die.

I kneel by Tony’s lifeless body and search his suit for anything helpful—anything that might help me track down Lopez García, or that could help me get Olivia back. At this point, I’ll grasp at any shred of hope.

My fingers brush against something hard— a knife.

I pull it free from its sheath and inspect it carefully.

The handle is bone, off-white, with intricate carvings—a name etched into it: Sanchez.

The blade is made of Damascus steel, glimmering with beautiful, wave-like patterns that almost remind me of water ripples.

It’s heavy, and it feels... perfect. The weight of it is comforting, almost like an extension of myself.

I carefully slip the blade back into its sheath, tucking it into my cleavage for safekeeping while I continue my search. Nothing else stands out to me, just a standard-issued 9mm pistol and a wallet.

I checked the other two men. It's the same deal. Just 9mm and wallets; fucking boring. Nothing is worth my time except for this knife. This knife gives me a small glimmer of hope that we will find Lopez García and make the world right again.

I find Alex still standing in the hallway, staring at the spot where Olivia and Oliver were as if lost. His face is a mix of confusion and loss, and it breaks my heart. I just want to take away his pain, but I can't. I am fucking done with not being able to help.

I stood there for another couple of minutes, finally becoming irritated with his pouting. I march to him, “Are we going to stand here and sulk? Or are we going to get our girl? I’m done with this fucking house. And frankly, I have so much rage right now; I need to get it out before I explode.”

Alex blinks, snapping out of his daze, and looks down to meet my gaze.

“Let’s go home and figure out how to get our girl back.”

I grab his hand and pull him out of the house towards the 4Runner.

I am getting my girl back, with or without Alex.

Olivia has made me feel things I have never felt before, and I refuse to lose that.

Olivia treats me just like her nickname for me -princess- she worships the ground I walk on. I have never had that in my life.

I also never thought I could fall in love with a woman, but here I am, more in love with Olivia and Alex than I have ever been with anyone, including Andrew. And to think I thought that fucker was the love of my life… boy, was I wrong.

We get to the car, and I put a zombified Alex into the passenger seat and buckle him up.

"Are you even capable of functioning enough to go get our girl? Because if not, I am leaving your ass at home while I go get her!" I snapped at him. He doesn’t deserve my attitude, but I’m annoyed and feeling particularly stabby.