The terrifying thought steals my breath away.

I begin to shake again, fresh tears forming in my eyes. I don’t even know why I’m crying. Everything is fine. It has to be.

Clutching my purse, I focus on the door in the back. Any second now, Julian will walk through it with Rosa, and our lives will go back to normal.

Any second now.

The seconds tick by slowly. So slowly that it’s all I can do not to scream. I stare at the door until the tears stop and my eyes begin to burn from dryness. No matter how much I try, I can’t keep the dark imaginings away, and the fear inside me feels like it’s going to swallow me from within, eat away at me until there’s nothing left.

Finally, the door starts to creak open.

I jump to my feet, aches and pains forgotten, but then I recall Julian’s parting words.

He’s not the only one who might walk through that door.

Lifting the gun he gave me, I take aim with trembling hands and wait.

26

Julian

As soon as I send my message to Lucas, I open the door and step out into the alley behind the club. Immediately, the smell of garbage hits my nostrils, mixing with the pungent odor of urine. It must’ve rained while we were inside because the pothole-ridden asphalt is wet, the light from a distant street lamp reflecting in the oily-looking puddles.

Reining in my violent rage and worry, I methodically scan my surroundings. Later I will let myself think about Nora’s tear-streaked face and how badly I fucked up, but for now I need to focus on saving Rosa.

I owe her and Nora that much.

I don’t see anyone nearby, so I wind my way through the dumpsters, heading toward the street. A few rats scurry away at my approach. I wonder if they can sense the thrum of violence in my veins, the lust for blood that intensifies with every step I take.

One death was not enough. Not nearly enough.

My footsteps echo wetly as I round the corner, turning onto a narrow side street, and then I see it.

Two figures struggling by a white SUV some thirty yards away.

I can see the yellow of Rosa’s dress as the man tries to drag her into the car, and black rage surges through me again.

Pulling out my knife, I sprint toward them.

I know the exact moment Rosa’s attacker sees me. His eyes widen, his face twisting with fear, and before I can react, he shoves Rosa at me and scrambles into the car.

I put on a burst of speed, managing to catch Rosa before she falls, and she clutches at me, sobbing hysterically. I try to soothe her while extricating myself from her clinging grip, but it’s too late.

The car starts up with a roar, and the tires squeal as Rosa’s assailant slams on the gas, escaping like the coward that he is.