Page 38 of Vicious Vows

“Go,” I shout over the roar of the engine, and Vic hits the gas pedal without hesitation. The car lurches forward, racing through red lights and zipping through busy intersections. Horns blare and tires squeal as we narrowly avoid collisions, leaving chaos in our wake. But those minor accidents can easily be swept under the rug with a little help from our friend on the force. What they can't do is reverse death, once a spirit has left its earthly vessel. It's like trying to catch smoke with bare hands—impossible and futile.

Skeptical and wary, Vic's head shakes back and forth as he surveys the surroundings. We're getting closer to our target, just a few blocks away now, but his words are a stark reminder that this mission won't be easy. "They'll have men, sir. Lots of them. If this is their safehouse, there's no way they'll let us just walk right in there." His voice is low, but the anger and tension are palpable. A chill runs down my spine as I realize he's right—we'll need backup if we want to have any chance of success.

I reach for my phone and dial Mark’s number, and he picks up on the second ring. “I’m here, go.”

“Mark, we need immediate reinforcements at the address I’m sending you right now.” I pull my phone away from my ear, the urgency in my voice matching the pounding of my heart. With shaky fingers, I quickly send the coordinates that Dalejust forwarded to me and put the phone back to my ear. “Bring everything you have. Come heavily armed. We're up against powerful resistance and we need all the firepower we can get. Our priority is getting her out safely.” The gravity of the situation weighs heavily on my mind as I wait for Mark's response, knowing that every second counts.

“Got it, sir. We’re on the way.” Mark hangs up the phone, and I quickly stow mine in my pocket. My hand instinctively reaches for my weapon, cool metal meeting my palm as I prepare for what's to come. The weight of it grounds me, reminding me of my duty and the gravity of the situation at hand. Time is of the essence, and we must move swiftly.

Despite the urgency of our situation, I can't help but feel a surge of pride at how quickly Dale and his friend have adapted to our line of work. They may not have had any formal training, but their instincts and determination make up for it. The fact that they're both willing to put themselves in harm's way for this mission speaks volumes. But knowing that they've never fired a weapon before makes me realize just how dangerous this could be.

"We aren't going to have the luxury of time to wait for backup to come," I say, my voice filled with urgency. "Though I can delay a few minutes to give them a chance to get here before we're all dead." My mind races as I try to come up with a plan that will keep us alive long enough for reinforcements to arrive.

I turn over my shoulder again and ask, "Have you two ever fired a weapon?"

Dale looks at me like he's in shock and the old man’s face goes pale. "No, sir, never," Dale stammers out.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do," I say, trying to remain calm despite the chaos around us. "I'll take the lead and provide cover fire while you two stick close behind me. When we get inside, stay low and follow my lead."

I reach for the glovebox and take out Vic’s extra gun, handing it to Dale. Then I reach into my boot and take my spare. It goes to the old man whose name I don’t even know, but who I hope survives this. He has a new job if he wants it.

The men look back at me with ghostly expressions and pale flesh. Neither of them has seen action like this, but together with Vic, they’re my backup for now.

“Are you ready?” I ask, chambering a round. The men follow suit as Vic rolls the car to a stop and puts it in park.

“No,” Dale mutters, but the old man nods at me firmly, and that’s all the consent I need. “Let’s go.” I open the car door and step into the rain. It’s time to get my wife back, and I’m taking no prisoners.

29

MICAH

Only a few minutes pass as I sit on the floor cradling Will’s hand. He’s still warm, but I know he’s gone. No one can survive a bullet to the chest like this without emergency medical care, and these monsters aren’t calling an ambulance. My heart hurts for him, and even though I know I should be doing what they say, I can’t help but stay here with my friend’s lifeless body.

Until I hear footsteps pounding the floor and approaching the door. I scramble to my feet, swiping away the tears on my cheeks, and plop behind the computer they’ve left in here with me. For a moment, I’m not sure why they think I can do anything at all. This thing isn’t connected to a network. But when I hear a key in the door lock, I also notice that the computer gains a signal, so I get to work.

These people are good, better than me, maybe, and I have to be super careful. But as I work, I decide there is a way I can alert Luke to what’s going on. I may not be able to set off the alarm on the cuff at the house, but I can leave a trail so obvious to Dale that he will see it, even if he doesn’t see it until Luke wakes uplater in the morning and finds out I’m gone. I know he’ll call the computer guy and try to track me.

So, I dig into the hack and work as fast as I can. Then men come in, armed and angry, and sit down around the table with me. It doesn’t bother them that there is a dead man on the floor, at least not for a short time. I sniffle and blink back more tears to hide my emotion because it also doesn’t bother them that I’m in shock and only trying to survive.

One of them sits with a computer too, also typing furiously. I assume he is the one who was opposing me at every turn and keeping me from seeing what Will was doing. If that’s the case, then he will be the one to throw the red flag up if he catches what I’m doing—siphoning only small amounts out of each of Luke’s accounts with very obvious breadcrumbs for Dale to find and track.

“Your friend was an imbecile,” the hacker says, and I look up at him. He has a scar that runs from above his eyebrow to the middle of his cheek, right across his left eye. It looks like he took a severe beating at some point too, his aquiline nose so crooked it resembles a Picasso.

“Do you always talk about the dead like that?” I glare at him, but my fingers keep moving, working the keys. I don’t know how long they expect my work for them to take, but I could have already emptied all of Luke’s accounts, and half of New York City, for that matter. They haven’t given me a timeline other than that old man’s warning of fifteen minutes.

“I’ll talk about you like that in a few minutes, bitch. Get to work.” The man across from me—the one with the gun—isn’t a conversationalist. Based on the way he rolls his eyes at me as heuses the hem of his T-shirt to polish his carbon-fiber gun, I’d say he’s just the muscle and probably not very intelligent at all.

I’m in the Santoro system now too, moving money, leaving the trail for Dale, and I see him there. He’s communicating with me in a series of binary codes. It hurts my brain and my eyes to stare at the string of numbers, but I force myself to focus on it and decipher what he’s saying. I only get a split second, though, because meathead over there is covering my tracks and erasing Dale’s messages faster than I can read them.

“Your friends are trying to speak to you,suka…Not a good idea. It will end up with you on the ground next to William.” The man with the scar glances down at Will, and I almost jump up to slap his gaze away. He doesn't even deserve to be in the same room with Will, let alone look at him. They did this to him, and somehow, I’m going to make them pay for it.

“I wouldn’t exactly call them my friends.” I think of Luke and his staff. Dale and I hardly talked while I worked, what with his video game obsession, and the other men are just security, not exactly friend material to someone like me. But Luke is more than a friend. There’s something there between us even when I don’t want there to be.

I know it because of the way he hovered over me when I got really afraid of this exact thing—Will being harmed. I don’t think for a second that Luke was just sitting and watching me work because he thought I was a flight risk. He sat there because he was worried about me, and he wanted me to know that.

I wonder what he’s thinking now, where he’s at? I glance at the time on the computer screen and see it’s creeping past four a.m. now. Is Luke awake yet? Or is he still sleeping peacefully, drugged by my hand so I could escape to come after Will? I’vedone this to myself, and I hate myself for it. Luke told me he was going to make sure Will was safe, but maybe I'm the reason he’s dead now.

Tears burn my eyes again, threatening to spill over once more as I feel the weight of guilt pound on my back. If Luke had come searching, maybe they wouldn’t have killed Will. They needed him alive to do the hacking, but with me now, they have what they need, and he became expendable.

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