Wicked Ever After (Wicked & Devoted 2)

“Bitch.” She pressed the barrel of the gun to her head and glanced at the tire iron in her hands. “Drop it.”

A quick mental calculation told Brea that Clara could get a shot off way before she could ever swing the heavy metal bar to strike her. With a sigh, Brea tossed it a few feet away, onto the concrete.

“What did you do?”

“N-nothing.” Brea tried to be brave, but her voice shook. Her whole body trembled. Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest.

Please, please don’t let this be the end.

“Liar.”

She had to come up with some version of the truth that would allow Pierce time to get here. “Really. I was trying to find the road to escape, b-but I got turned around. Please. I don’t want to die.” Tears pricked her eyes as she wrapped her hands around her belly. “My baby…”

Clara’s mouth pinched even more as she wrapped a cruel fist in Brea’s hair. “Come with me.”

If she did, would she be as good as dead?

Brea didn’t have the opportunity to make that decision. She heard the hum of a vehicle approaching soft, lights off. It stopped. The door opened.

Clara turned to her, eyes flaring. “Who did you call, puta?”

Tell her or lie?

“Who did you call?” she hissed as she yanked on her hair.

A cry slipped past Brea’s throat, and the woman clenched the gun tighter, looking ready to explode in fury.

Using her ponytail, Clara dragged her around the corner of the warehouse and peeked. Brea saw no one, heard nothing, but she sensed Pierce. She felt him in the electricity in the air, in the sudden calm that came over her. He was here; he would keep her safe.

But who would keep him safe in return?

Brea clammed up. The woman didn’t want her dead, so hopefully she could buy a little time until Pierce’s backup arrived. She’d managed to put the unstable woman off this long. She could do it a bit longer.

“It doesn’t matter,” she answered finally. “This won’t end well. Nothing you’re doing will bring Emilo back.”

Clara whipped around, hate in her eyes. “But I will avenge him. His bitch of a wife got pregnant before she abandoned and betrayed him. Then your brutal American sniper ended him ignominiously in some seedy part of town. And no one has done a thing about it. I know what my brother did for a living. I know he was no saint. But he was my brother. And I loved him. Since no one else in his organization intends to seize retribution, I will.”

“Then what? Even if you succeed in killing Pierce, do you think he doesn’t have friends? Do you think they or the police will let you walk free?”

Clara turned bleak eyes her way. “I will have turned the gun on myself long before then. I have nothing more to live for.”

As her terrible words sank in, the woman seemingly reached a decision and gave her hair another savage tug, dragging her to the front of the abandoned building and into the circle of weak yellow light spilling through the front door. Then she slung Brea in front of her and pressed the gun to her temple.

Brea’s heart revved uncontrollably. Fear made her body tremble and her legs unsteady. God, please don’t let it end like this…

“Walker!” Clara called into the darkness. “If you want your woman to live, come toward me, toss down your weapons, and surrender.”

“No!” Brea shouted.

“Shut up, puta.” The woman yanked viciously on her hair again and pressed the gun so hard against her temple, Brea cried out in pain.

“Let her go,” Pierce called from the darkness, his voice booming across the feet separating them. Then he walked into the stream of light, gun in hand, still wearing his suit.

Brea gasped. “Don’t do this.”

Other than a glance to assess that she was okay, Pierce didn’t acknowledge her. “If you let Brea go, I’ll toss this down and do whatever you want.”

“You can’t. No!” Brea pleaded. “It’s a trap.”

“I don’t trust you,” Clara hissed. “You must surrender before I let her go.”

“If I do, what assurance do I have you’ll actually release her?”

“If you don’t, what assurance do I have you won’t simply kill me and walk away?”

He shrugged. “You don’t except that I’m a man of my word.”

“You are a man who kills,” she hissed. “You have no honor. Until now, I have not killed your woman because I have no strife with her, and I do not like to think of killing children before they are born. But I will. Right now.”

“She won’t,” Brea argued.

“Shut up!” Clara said as she covered her mouth with a sweaty palm. “Will you surrender or watch your woman and child die before your eyes?”

Pierce dragged in a deep breath, shook his head in regret, then met Clara’s gaze. “What do you want me to do?”