Page 105 of Her Guardian
“You along with everyone the Morandi family brings to rescue you,” he confirms, pointing at the grates. “Those are jet engines underneath you. You’ll get the brunt of the first blast, so neither of you will suffer. The rest of the Morandi family—they might not be so lucky, but none of them will survive. This bunker is lined with enough explosives to shake the ground from here to Caesar’s Palace.”
I swallow hard and look down. Jet engines? I’ve never seen a jet engine before, but they have a lot of power. Enough heat to melt the flesh off our bones. It may be quick, but I still think we’ll suffer. Long enough to scream, at least. But I’m not going to beg. I won’t give him that satisfaction.
“You’re fine with the Bratva taking over Las Vegas?” I mutter, unsure why I’m still trying to appeal to whatever sense of right and wrong may be lurking inside the Mafia Prince Killer. “Fine with them killing innocent people? Kidnapping women and selling them? That’s what they do. They’re a lot worse than the Morandi family.”
“Las Vegas can burn for all I care,” he snaps. “Just like the Morandi family will.”
Arthur Dykstra stands up. I pull Lea as far away from the cage as I can, but he doesn’t make a move toward us. He slides his helmet back on and turns toward the door.
“Wish I could stay for the live show, but things will be a little toohotin here for my liking,” he chuckles. “But I’m sure the last episode ofTrue Crime Minuteswill be the most explosive one yet.”
Lea and I are quiet after he leaves the room and closes the door. Silence says everything. Tears trickle down Lea’s face and she holds her stomach. I want to tell her everything will be okay. That Massimo, Boyd, and the rest of the Morandi family will come to our rescue.
But that’s unrealistic. Nobody has survived the Mafia Prince Killer, even before he was working with Solitude and the Bratva. Except now, Arthur Dykstra is nothing more than a pawn. He’s no vigilante. He’s a monster.
“We have to warn them,” I say, checking my chain and Lea’s before moving closer to my laptop. “When the podcast goes live, we have to scream. Tell them not to come. Tell them it’s a trap.”
“Massimo won’t listen. He’ll come for me anyway,” Lea sighs. “Do you really think Big Boyd will listen, either?”
“No,” I admit, looking down, tearing up as the awful truth sours my stomach. “Nothing is going to stop him.”
We’re going to die. Massimo, Boyd, and the rest of the Morandi family will die trying to save us. Doors may not slow Big Mafia Boyd down, but he’s not as tough as he thinks he is.
I fight the tears as long as I can, then I break down, and move close to Lea. She’s crying too. We hold each other as the clock counts down to the final episode ofTrue Crime Minutes.
My very last podcast.
My life is going to end, just when I finally started to figure out what I wanted to do with it.
CHAPTER 39
Boyd
Massimo and I tore through the streets of Las Vegas, looking for answers.
We didn’t find any.
Then we got a notification about Sarah’s podcast.
“There has to be something we can do!” I say angrily, kicking the table Cadence is sitting at hard enough that she has to grab her laptop. “Sarah isn’t doing that podcast! It has to be them!”
“I know!” Cadence whimpers, putting her laptop down and tapping away on the keyboard. “I’m trying. They’re bouncing the signal through proxies and VPNs all over the world. Right now, it looks like they’re in Uruguay. A few minutes ago, it was Brazil.”
Massimo hasn’t said anything in a while. He’s leaning against the wall, fingers clutching his hair, knuckles white. This is the same rage that boiled over after his first wife was murdered. Buthe had a target, then. Someone to go after. We’re just chasing a bunch of fucking ghosts.
And I’m angry too. Angrier than ever. I’m taking it out on everyone around me, including poor Cadence, who is just trying to help. She cares about Lea and Sarah, too. They’ve become close friends since Erica’s coup.
“What about that group you’re working with?” I ask, trying not to snap again. “Surely, they can figure this shit out. You said they’re almost as good as Solitude.”
“Yes, they’re helping. That’s the only reason I’m able to track the signal as well as I can,” Cadence replies. “Wait, one of them got into the traffic network. They can’t decode all of them, but they’ve got a few images.”
Cadence taps on her keyboard and several pictures pop up. She zooms in on a license plate and runs it, but it comes up to a shell corporation based in Russia. The people in the vehicle are dressed in the same gear as the ones we fought at the Bellamy residence, but there’s no sign of Sarah or Lea.
“Can we follow those vehicles?” Massimo asks.
“Trying,” Cadence calls out. “No, they… they split up at the next intersection. No way to know which one to follow. It’ll take too long to decode enough footage to follow them all.”
Cadence keeps working. Massimo and I keep seething. I’ve broken my last disposable vape and snatched a pack of cigarettes from one of our guys. I’m chain-smoking like a chimney right now, ready to tear this city apart to find Sarah. But I need something to go on. When my sister got kidnapped, I had leads to follow. Leads that didn’t require hackers or hacktivist groups.
