Page 71

WES

M y Glock went skittering across the asphalt.

In my attempt to help Mara’s cousin, I failed to see the second fucking hound coming my way.

The bastard caught me in the calf, and I swear to god if it weren’t for the fact that I had two layers of pants, I would have lost that entire chunk of meat off my leg.

But the hit threw me to the ground, and the impact jostled my gun free from my clutch.

I kicked the thing in the face with my free leg, slamming the heel of my boot into its snout three times before it finally whined and let go.

Then I was scrambling, desperately trying to reach the Glock on the floor only a few meager feet away.

Javier was getting his ass kicked. The sergeant was toying with him because he could have easily ended it at least three hits ago. But whatever fucking history the two of them had, it was all playing out right now, and Javier was paying for whatever it was he did in the past .

Before I hit the ground, Mara was safe—Matias only a few yards from her—when she called my attention to her cousin. That was before the fucking hound lunged at me.

The growling snarl behind me caused only another pump of delicious adrenaline to rock my system, smothering out the pain that was the bite in my leg.

Thank fucking god for adrenaline.

My hand dove for the gun, swiping it up and spinning around just in time to fire the last bullet into the hellhound’s fucking head. The mangy beast fell to the floor in a heap, paws twitching for only a few seconds before stilling in a mess of its own blood and brain matter.

I scanned the gun in my hand, empty of rounds. Frustrated and pissed off that I didn’t have another, I ejected the magazine, and it went clattering to the ground.

“Why would you do that? Why the fuck did you do that!”

It was Mara, and the shrill sound of her voice caused my entire system to freeze over. I spun to see her on the ground, huddled over Matias.

“Fuck me,” I muttered. Because the amount of blood on the floor and the way she was reacting told me something I just didn’t want to fucking believe.

“It’s over, de la Puente! You and your entire crew are dead meat!”

I turned to the left, seeing Javier gripping his shoulder as he dragged himself across the floor. Harris held a gun in his hand, pointing it straight at Javier’s head.

“I’m going to enjoy watching these beasts eat you alive,” Harris sneered.

It was then that I registered the bone-chilling calls of the hounds. The lobby might have been on fire, but there must have been another exit out of Apex because rounding the corner of the hill were dozens of soldiers, all being led by hellhounds tugging on their leashes, begging to be set free.

Shit. We were fucked .

I did the only thing I could think of. With only seconds to spare, I sent Krous and Giza a request for emergency assistance because there was no fucking way we were going to get out of here alive.

Not with these odds. And I knew that if the crew had been anyone else but me, there would have been no response.

But I was the fucking President of the North whether I wanted to be or not.

And there was no fucking way they were going to let me die, not with my mother at the helm. There would be hell to pay.

Wes: I need an emergency evac from Apex NOW!

Krous: What happened?

Did he seriously just fucking text me ‘ what happened? ’ A lot of fucking shit happened!

Giza: Sending Dissenter air support.

Fuck …thank you, Giza. I ignored whatever came next. I was one person and I was needed in multiple places. Javier was the closest to me, but Mara was my priority, and I had no fucking clue what was going on with Matias. Then there was the looming horde of mutts heading right for us.

How the hell am I going to get us out of this?

“You think this is over, Harris?” Javier laughed. The idiot actually laughed as he staggered to his feet. His angle, though…the way he twisted his body and sent a hand digging among the folds of his white uniform. He was up to something.

“Even if you killed me,” he continued, hand still tucked inside the flap of his clothing as he faced Harris, “Liddy would destroy you.” Javier tossed his head, sending a swath of his jet-black hair out of his face.

“She would stab out your other eye, asshole, and then she would stab you in the heart. But she’s not gonna get the chance, Harris.

Because I’m going to do now what I should have done then…

Te voy a matar, Harris. I’m going to fucking kill you.

” He was talking a lot of shit for a guy who was barely standing and had a gun pointed at his head.

Harris stared at Javier for two seconds before he bellowed. It was a deep and powerful laugh, causing his entire body to spasm with the force of it. He laughed so hard, he dropped the aim of his gun, grabbing his stomach instead as though it needed support from the power of his laughter.

It was a stupid move, one that Javier took full advantage of.

The sunlight caught it first. The rays catching steel, glinting a flash of white as Javier pulled out a dagger from the folds of his clothing. With a toss, he flipped the blade, catching it by the pointed tip.

“Say hi to your dad for me,” he said, and then threw it. Flipping through the air, the knife soared and buried itself deep into Harris’s throat.

The sergeant’s eye flew wide open as he dropped his gun and reached for his neck.

Blood sputtered as the man gurgled, dropping to his knees in shock.

The hounds and their handlers were approaching, but Javier staggered toward Harris anyway, coming to stand before him.

The sergeant lifted his head, gurgling and gargling as he did.

“Que dios te perdone,” he muttered. “May god forgive you…because I don’t.” Then he gripped the handle of the blade and twisted it in Harris’s throat. The man arched his back with a spasm and fell backwards, leaving the blade in Javi’s hand.

Javier de la Puente killed Sergeant Tim Harris, Jr.