Page 8 of Make Me Hunt
One of Ares’s gun shipments went south after the cops got involved. But in fact, it was all a setup. The Virelli’s—one of the newer mafia families in town—paid off the cops to get their hands on the shipment. Just trying to make a name for themselves.
They run a grocery store on Main as a front for whatever operation they’re trying to set up. And the best part is that the weapons are still in one of their supply trucks.
Apparently, Ares is waiting for backup to hit the place, since he has a few more shipments coming in tonight, and he needs all hands on deck. Vince certainly won’tjoin them since he passes out on the table seconds later. A mix of the booze and the drug I slipped him so ourdatewouldn’t end with our clothes on the floor. More like with him on the floor.
There’s this low hum in my chest telling me I’m about to dosomethingreally fucking stupid.
I search Vince’s jacket and pockets, where I find two guns that I take, then bolt to my car and go home and change. I’m wearing a skirt and sandals. I can’t exactly face down a whole mafia family dressed in that—because yes, that’s what I’m about to do.
I know the place he’s talking about, and it doesn’t take me long to get there. I’m expecting it to be an easy job, if I’m lucky. I should be in and out, hotwire the van—because yes, I’ve done that before—and get the hell away from there with Ares’s weapons. I mean, if that doesn’t earn me his trust, then I don’t know what will.
But as usual, nothing ever goes according to plan, and things are a lot more fucked up as I get there. The van’s inside a warehouse.
Of course, why wouldn’t the van be inside a warehouse?
I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but this is impossible.
I scope the perimeter, and I can see two guards and what looks like two of the Virelli’s themselves.
How the fuck am I supposed to get around them?
Luckily, I’ve seen enough movies to figure something out. And since the Virelli’s are still inside, maybe I could pull it off just by taking out the guards.
I take my phone out of my pocket and pretend to stare at it while I enter the alley behind the store, where the warehouse is.
Grinding my teeth into a fake smile, I approach one of the guards, asking him to look at the map opened on my screen, “Hi… sorry, but I seem to be lost. Can you help me out, please?” I ask, batting my lashes, knowing damn well that he’s staring down my cleavage and not at my phone.
But that’s exactly what I was hoping for.
I grab the back of his head and slam my knee into his face as hard as I can, then jump on his back, wrapping my arms around his neck and squeezing harder and harder, until his body gives out and he goes limp.
Just as I’m about to drag him further into the alley, next to the dumpster, I hear a sound behind me.
“Hey! What the fuck are you doing?” It’s the other guard, and before he gets to react, I pull out my gun and shoot him. He drops, finger on the trigger, but never gets to fire. It was either me or him.
Fuck. Fuck, what have I done?
I want to check for the keys to the warehouse, but as I scramble through the guard's pockets, I can hear footsteps in the alley.
Maybe the universe just wants to see how far I’ll go because I find the keys. I just pray they work. I’m dead if these aren’t the right ones.
I fumble with them in the lock but finally manage to get it open just as a bullet zips past my head. I don’t have time to do this. No time to think either, so I just spin around and start firing. I worked for a month at the carnival when I was a kid, and I got top of the leaderboard at the shooting range, so even if I don’t have much practice, my bullets don’t miss. The two men chasing me drop to the ground as I rush to throw the door open, jump into the van, and disappear into the night.
I don’t even know how to drive a fucking van. It sounded much easier in theory, but I didn’t have time to take lessons. The opportunity presented itself, and I took it.
My pulse starts to slow as I approach The Breach, the road wavers ahead of me, every turn feels heavier as I’m growing more tired. My hands shake on the wheel and the exhaustion is no longer just in my head. It’s literally leaking out of me as I feel something wet on my right side somewhere below my breast.
I have a bad feeling about this, but I have no choice. I reach for that spot anyway. And as I pull my hand away, I see it covered in blood.
Dumb Brynn, really fucking dumb move on your part.
I park the van right in front of The Breach, toss the keys to the bodyguard there, asking him to guard it with his fucking life. Then I call Silver and tell her she has to come pick up the guns.
I don’t wait for her, though, just get myself a Lyft and head straight home. I’ve left my car a few blocks from the store, but I’m in no shape to go get it. All I can think about is not passing out in this guy’s car. I can’t go to the hospital, so I’ll need to get home and fix whatever this is myself.
I do dumb shit when I’m desperate, but this one managed to top them all.
I remember blacking out a couple of times in the car, but I come to just seconds before the driver told me I’d arrived at my place.
