Page 74 of Inez

Rafael surges inside her reach, slamming a knee into her gut, grabs a fistful of hair and shirt, spins, and hurls her bodily into space.

"SOPHIA!" I shout, forcing myself into a run again.

I'm too late.

Always too late.

Rafael throws himself after Inez. I have less than thirty feet to the edge, and I cross it in quick time considering the state of my wounds, but it's too late, too late, too late.

A boat snarls to life. I stumble to the edge, pistol held in a Weaver grip, aimed down at the Zodiac seventy feet below, bobbing in the waters of the port. Rafael is clambering over the side, panting. The driver of the boat grabs him by the waist of his jeans and hauls him in one-handed. Rafael grins up at me as he reaches down and yanks Inez's head up to show me her red-bathed face, unconscious and bleeding.

I fire at the boat, but my shot goes low, slicing into the water behind the speeding away rubber craft. I'm in motion, leaping off the container—only to be jerked back by a powerful hand.

"I don't think so, bro," Rev's voice rumbles in my ear. "You ain’t catchin' that fuckin' thing, especially not with that wound."

"Sophia," I whisper, sagging against Rev's hold, suddenly exhausted beyond comprehension, my aches and injuries catching up to me all at once.

"They're going to that yacht," Rev says—not to me. His voice is in my ear again. "We'll get her back, brother. Promise."

My knees hit metal and darkness swells behind my eyes. The rubber boat bounces across the water toward the mid-sized yacht anchored half a mile or so out—in the middle of the shipping lane, of all places.

I watch as it reaches the yacht, slows. Hands roughly pass a small figure up into the yacht, and then Rafael's figure follows on his power, although even from here I can tell he's badly hurt and moving slowly.

CRACK!

The driver of the Zodiac abruptly flinches, wavers, and topples backward over the motor into the water. Distant shouts float across the water.

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

Splashes announce Lash's accuracy.

"Fuck," Lash snarls across the comms. "The cowardly dog is using our Sophia as a shield. I cannot shoot for fear of hitting her."

The yacht rumbles to life, twists in the water, and lurches into motion, angling away from the port and toward open sea.

"Sophia!"

I failed her.

He has her…again.

I cannot see her surviving him a third time.

Woozy now, I hear Rev's voice, Solomon's, Silas's.

Hands lift me, and I try to find my feet, but the darkness drags me under.

13

THE UNPLEASANT TRUTH

INEZ

Pain rouses me. I remember the preceding events with awful clarity before I even open my eyes: pursuing Rafael into the bowels of his elaborate, extensive container hideout. Trading shots with him. I hit him first, a glancing slice to the ribs. His shot sliced the outside of my left thigh. He ran out of bullets, and so did I. I remember daylight. I remember the rage, the hate, and the pain. My knife swinging wildly, red clouding my vision. Hurtling through the air.