Page 120 of Darcy
We might not be qualified to help her, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to flee outside with everyone else and leave her to face Miguel and his cronies alone. Especially when it’s clear something has gone very wrong.
“Stay exactly where you are!”
All four of us freeze as Miguel’s voice cuts through the empty arena. I spin in place, trying to figure out where he is, but all I can see is his security bursting onto the stage, guns pointed at us.
“¡Hijos de puta!” Miguel curses. “You hired an assassin, didn’t you?”
Finally, he steps out from behind the black curtain, shoving Ems forward with a gaudy golden gun pressed to her temple. She stumbles, falling into Prophet’s drums before she can right herself. When she looks up, I can already see a fresh bruise forming against her cheek and a fiery spark of fury trapped behind her eyes.
Shit. I grab Arlo’s arm, stopping him when he would’ve stormed forwards.
“Do you even know what you’ve cost me?” our manager demands. “This entire operation has gone down the drain. A decade of work, destroyed, just as I was about to expand.”
“I’m going to cut off your dick with my pinking shears,” Emma growls. “You think—”
“Shut up.” He jabs the golden muzzle of the glock against her skull harder. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you pay her extra to fuck you?”
“I need you to get him on the edge of the danger zone.”Darcy’s voice echoes sharply through my in-ear monitor, and I have to fight hard not to react.“I can set off the gerb beneath him, which will stun him long enough for you to grab Emma and run.”
The trouble with the earpiece is that I have no way to communicate back to her.
“Keep him talking,”she advises, audibly out of breath.“Don’t set him off. He just shot both of his brothers.”
I share a glance with Slate, and I see the wheels turning in his eyes. So she’s speaking to all of us. Then the impact of what she just said sinks in.
Shit. If Miguel just took out the two heads of the cartel—his own half-brothers—Emma is in serious danger. He won’t think twice about shooting her.
“Look, man,” Arlo mutters, stepping forward with his hands up. “We have no clue what you’re talking about.”
Wrong thing to say. “You think I’m stupid? Imadeyou. All of you. All this—?” He gestures wildly at the stage. “Thousands of people worshipping you. All you had to do was keep your heads down and your fucking mouths shut.”
“Miguel,” Slate tries again, and I notice he’s actually taking a few steps back.
Trusting him, I follow his lead, retreating and dragging Arlo with me.
His grin—already crazed—turns positively cruel at the perceived weakness.
“We had nothing to do with hiring any assassins,” Slate reiterates. “That’s the truth. Let Emma go. We can still salvage all of this. The rest of the tour will—”
“Thereisno more tour,” Miguel snaps. “You four are a liability. You think, after you broke my trust, I’m going to just let you carry on and wait for another knife in the back?”
He takes a step forward, forcing Ems to walk around the drums, but it’s not far enough. I can see the black tip of the gerb two feet in front of him.
We can’t back up any farther, or we’ll run out of stage.
“Come on,”Darcy mutters in my ear, and I wonder if she knows she’s still connected to me.
Her voice is thin, and the words end on a pained groan. My heart hammers at the inside of my ribcage in answer.
Is she safe? She wants us to grab Emma and get out, but what about her?
I glance back at Prophet, but the stoic drummer is staring intently at the stage, like he’s trying to see if Darcy is hidden beneath us and calculating a way to get to her.
“You don’t have to do this.” Arlo backs up another step. “Just give me my sister, and we can pass this all off as an accident. I’m sure your men have the assassin handled. She’s just one girl.”
“What would you know,cabrón?” Miguel retorts, shoving Emma forward again. “All you’ve ever cared about is your next fucking hit. You’re just another dumb addict.”
“He’s not,” Emma growls. “He’s a hundred times the—”
