Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 160041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
The celebrations are well underway by the time we get to the venue, and the excitement around the couple’s wedding provides a nice cover for our operation.
I’ve never invaded a wedding before, let alone kidnapped a man in broad daylight, and I’m not at all sure this is going to work. But if this is going to help Sunny, I have to believe it’s a possibility.
I just hope I can trust that goddamn cop.
“Who’s the target?” Atlas asks.
“A man named José. Don’t worry about him. You just focus on the two guards stationed outside.”
“At a wedding?” Atlas narrows his eyes.
“He’s second-in-command at some Bones Brotherhood headquarters,” Orion spills, making both Atreus and me glare at him in disbelief that he just gave Atlas sensitive info.
“Wow, interesting,” Atlas muses. “The people who deal in drugs and organs and stuff?”
“Yes,” Atreus replies.
“And what do you need him for?”
“We just need him. That’s it,” I say, trying to end this line of discussion as quickly as possible.
“Okay, that’s fine if you don’t wanna tell me,” Atlas muses, pulling out his knives. “I’ll help either way, since I was so bad at it last time.”
“You did well, kid,” Atreus says, nodding at him.
“According to you,” I quip.
We move as a single unit, covering each other as we approach the terrain from the parking lot. The newly married couple is having their first bite out of their cake, and Atreus flagged us to go inside because he saw José getting up from his seat with a pack of cigarettes in his hand.
“So, the second-in-command is here, isn’t it dangerous as hell to just grab him?” Atlas whispers.
“It’s a wedding, he doesn’t expect us, so he’s vulnerable as hell,” Atreus replies. “Let’s go.”
Atreus nods at us, and we approach the back entrance to the venue, where the garden is, behind all the guests. A dude is smoking a cig there and drinking a beer while checking his phone, and Atreus flags him down as one of the guards. Guess he’s not paying much attention to his boss.
Orion casually strolls toward the building, doing what he does best: distracting people.
The guard looks up and says, “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m actually a wedding guest. I just lost my card. Let me look for it.”
Orion lazily searches his pockets while Atreus and I home in on the dude from the side. Right before he turns, I knock him out with a single fist to the face. His cig drops to the pavement, still burning.
“Hide him behind the bushes. Quick,” Atreus says.
While Orion stays on the lookout close to the venue, Atlas and I pick up his arms to drag him behind the trees.
The guy we grabbed groans, and Atlas pulls his knife from his pocket and stabs the fucker in the chest.
“Better not to leave any loose ends, right?” he says.
But it’s the way he so easily took someone out that reminds me too much of myself.
Another guard suddenly walks around the corner and stares at us in shock, hands immediately diving into his pocket.
“Oh shit,” I mutter as we back up from the dude we just hid.
Orion tries to block the guard’s vision, but it’s no use, because the guy shoves him aside and points his gun right at me.
BANG!
I blink, thinking my life is over in a flash.
But then I spot the metal barrel, complete with a silencer, right beside my head still smoking from the corner of my eyes.
The second guard flops down onto the ground like a sack of potatoes.
What the hell.
Atreus Foley saved my life.
“Thanks,” I mutter, still stunned.
“Don’t mention it,” he replies.
“Holy shit, that was close,” Orion mutters, running his fingers through his hair. “What do we do now?”
“Drag him away before someone sees,” Atreus barks, running right past me while tucking his gun away like he didn’t just murder a guard in broad daylight.
I’m still too stunned as they carry the body into the bushes right before the man we’re looking for steps out for a smoke.
“What’s happening here?” he growls, the packet of cigarettes still in his hands.
The moment he dives into his pocket, I attack him, jumping on his back to stop him from reaching for a gun.
“Atreus!” I yell, as José knocks me off.
“What the f—” José punches me in the face, so I swiftly pull my knife from my pocket and hold it under his throat.
Atreus comes running to me and points his gun at José’s head. “Don’t move.”
José was about to fish his own knife from his pocket but stops abruptly.
Atreus takes out his cuffs and wraps them around José’s wrists. “José Martínez, you’re under arrest.”
“A cop and three kids? What kind of arrest is this?” José complains.
I tuck my knives into my pocket again.
“You can’t do this. I’m at a wedding. This is preposterous,” José barks, as Atreus drags him back to our car.