Page 95 of Cruel Revenge

Blindly, I open the bottom drawer, reaching for the button that opens the hidden compartment in it.

I pull out my gun and check the magazine as everything goes silent.

Footsteps tap against the wood floors.

Silence.

Did they leave?

A gunshot and a groan.

I guess not.

I creep to the door, gun in hand.

Kalani has crawled under one of the other desks, and I signal for her to stay put.

A dark shadow moves across the door.

One of the lockers out in the main office opens and slams shut.

I shift around the doorframe, aiming the gun and pulling the trigger as the shooter appears from around the corner of the bank of lockers.

The bullet sinks into his right biceps, and he drops the gun.

Kalani scrambles out from under the desk, grabbing the abandoned gun and aiming it at the man glaring at us. She looks over at me, her chest heaving as she keeps the man glued in place.

I advance on him as he clamps a hand to his wound.

Blood stains his shirt and creeps down his arm, seeping through his fingers.

“Who the fuck sent you?” I aim the gun at his heart.

He smirks and presses his lips tight together, dark eyes boring through me like he would kill me with nothing but his gaze if he could.

I tilt my head to the couch behind him. “Sit.”

Two of the men who work for me come rounding the corner.

One of them is shot, his hand clutched to his torso, though it seems to be doing little to stop the blood.

“Need help, boss?”

“No. Just get him to the hospital and send everyone else home for the day.”

My men leave while Kalani stands taller, her finger wrapped around the trigger of this guy’s gun.

She keeps the gun steady while the man moves to the couch and sits down.

I drag over a chair and sit in front of him, aiming the gun at his crotch. “You’re not going to bleed out from the wound in your arm, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to kill you if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”

“And what do you want to know?” He smirks, draping his injured arm over the back of the couch and allowing blood to trickle down the beige leather.

It’s going to leave a stain that’s going to be impossible to get out.

“Who sent you?”

He shrugs. “You seem like the kind of woman who would have a lot of enemies, from what I hear.”

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