Page 12 of Precious Hazard

“Stavros?” I choke out. He was right here in front of me and— I look down, gaping at the man slumped on the ground at my feet.

Oh my God.

I rear back, gaze transfixed on Stavros’s body. The side of his head is bloody, and he doesn’t seem to be breathing. Filling my own lungs with oxygen becomes a problem. I can’t seem to swallow around the big lump stuck in my throat.

What the fuck happened?

With my back plastered to the car door, I freeze like a deer in headlights.

Footsteps.

Coming toward me out of the dark corner of the dead-end alley. Out of the shadows where the flickering street lights don’t reach.

Getting closer.

I need to get back into my car, lock the doors, and drive away as fast as Old Betsy can manage to go.Turn around, Tara!My instincts are screaming at me, pushing me toward safety. But is being trapped in a car that might not start the safest bet? Maybe it will, though. Then again, with the luck I’ve been having lately, it’s likely a definitenot.

Shoving down every impulse that tells me to flee, I fix my focus on the dead body and try to calm my skyrocketing heart rate. If anything, having a man who leads a powerful criminal organization in New York City for a brother has taught me to never act before thinking.

Stavros worked for his father and had plenty of enemies, I’m sure. It’s possible that one of them decided to take him out. I have no desire to know who made that hit or to become an unfortunate witness.

One who will then need to be disposed of.

But if I don’t see the shooter, I stand a better chance of making it out of here. Alive.

Tap. Tap.

Tap. Tap.

Steps drawing ever closer. A crunch of broken glass under a heavy sole. Coming from my right.

I bite my lower lip and squeeze my eyes shut.

“I haven’t seen anything,” I say, loud enough for the shooter to hear me. “Please. Don’t come any closer. I can’t divulge anything I don’t know.”

Tap. Tap.

Tap. Tap.

Slow, measured footfalls. Relaxed, as if out for a nightly stroll.

Closer. Closer.

“I don’t know who you are. And I don’t care.” My voice turns shrill. My throat starts to close up, and I’m left fighting for air. “I haven’t seen or heard anything!”

The steps halt right in front of me. Instantly, a rich woody scent with a bit of spice fills my nostrils. Then, a light touch seizes my chin. Fingers tilt my head up and turn it to the side.

With no hope left, I squeeze my eyes even harder. “Please, I just want to go home. I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

“I find that promise very hard to believe, Tara.” A rich, velvety baritone reaches my ears.

My eyes snap open.

“You!”

I ignore Tara’s furious glare and focus on the welt spreading across her left cheek. The motherfucker hit her hard. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes!” She pushes my hand away. “What the fuck, DeVille? I thought you were someone my ex had threatened or tangled with. Maybe a schmuck who couldn’t pay back his loan and decided to kill the messenger instead. And I figured I was next!”

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