Page 63 of Brutal Surrender

But there’s a strange connection between us. I can’t explain it. I feel…

Stop being such a fool!

“Find your peace, Martina Rossi.”

At the sound of my name, I pull the trigger.

The crack of the gunshot reverberates in my ear before I realize what I’ve done. Blood seeps through his shirt in an instant. His hand drops from mine.

I whip around as the door slams open. I immediately release another shot and manage to hit Cho. He stumbles backward.

My body is on autopilot. Gun in hand, I race into the hallway. I don’t know how I managed to get past Cho, but I don’t stop running. Every second, I expect footsteps to pound behind me, to tackle me. But, miraculously, I make it all the way down to the garage where the tender is stored.

My mind races as I stare at the davit system. I take in a deep breath. Calm down. Brady showed you how to deploy the tender in case we could escape.

There’s actually a simple switch to operate the davit and lower the tender into the water. I board the boat, undo the line securing it to the yacht, and start the engine. I back the vessel from the yacht and turn it towards land. A hail of bullets might follow me, but I don’t have other choices.

Surprisingly, my escape goes without a hitch. I drive the vessel onto a beach. A man yells at me to say I can’t do that and that I could injure someone. Ignoring him, I get out and start running. I have to get as far from Vincent and his people as possible.

Once I make it off the beach and onto the street, it hurts to run because I don’t have shoes on. But I push forward. Where I should go, I’m not sure. I could go to the cops, but what if they detain me? I could be a sitting duck for Vincent’s people. Or what if I’m jailed for murder?

Better to lay low. At least find a quiet place to think things through before taking any drastic action.

I walk past brightly painted facades, intricate murals, and graffiti art without seeing them. The smell of jerk chicken from the street vendors and the sounds of reggae from people selling music don’t register for me. My heart is still beating fast because nowhere looks safe. I get some weird looks and realize there’s splashes of blood on my dress.

Stepping into a cafe, I find the restroom and see there’s droplets of blood on my face and neck as well. Vincent’s blood. I can’t believe I shot him. I finally did it.

I killed Vincent Xu.

But I don’t feel any sense of accomplishment or any of the euphoria I thought I would at having avenged the death of my family.

After cleaning myself up, I walk out.

“Would you like a table now, miss?” asks a server.

“Sorry, I changed my mind,” I mumble.

A few steps outside of the cafe, I bump into Juan, a shorter man in his twenties. He was on staff with me and Brady, one of the janitorial custodians. He seems to recognize me, but the dress is throwing him off because I had posed as a young man named Ramon.

“Julio!” I greet. “You’re—”

Not dead is what I almost say. This is a good sign.

“What happened to everyone?” I ask him. “Where’s Brady? I mean Ben?”

Juan regards me quizzically, as if he’s remembering something. “You were not with us.”

I put my hands on his shoulders. “Where’s Ben?”

His face darkens and he shakes his head.

“You know where he is! Please tell me!”

Again he shakes his head. He looks around himself.

“Please!” I beg.

“I don’t know. This was a few days ago. They took us all to a big empty building to ask us questions. I heard… I—I say no more.”

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