The Red Ledger Part 1

Chapter 8

TRISTAN

I pull a second handgun out of my bag and peek under the door as it opens. Mateus can nearly clear the opening with the Envemo as I catch movement by the Hummer. Then a man in black whips around the back of it and aims for the windshield. My heart slams against my chest as I get a shot off. He drops limp to the ground.

Mateus peels out, barely missing the body. I watch only long enough to see them speed down the road before I turn back for the house, every sense on high alert. This is nothing like a hit, but nothing I can't handle. Sometimes it's complicated. Of course, that was before Isabel. Before I signed myself up for a lifetime of ducking extinction—mine and hers.

Jay had messaged me twice this morning asking about Isabel. I should have known it was a warning shot. Maybe Mateus's gut was right, or maybe he just offered me to Jay's backup plan on a silver platter. I hoped it wasn't the latter, since he was Isabel's only chance to get out of this bullshit alive.

"Red!"

The hairs stand up on the back of my neck because I know the voice booming through the house.

"Come on, Red. Where's the girl? I know she's pretty, but you gotta give her up now."

I move up the stairs without a sound, sliding my back along the wall as I go. All the while, I'm cursing Jay. Of all the people to send...

I make it to the hallway and move toward the sound of his loud footfalls. He's still a big fucker.

"Boss isn't happy," he calls out. "But we can figure this out, man. We just need the girl so we can get this done."

I round the corner and find him in the foyer, pacing casually. I aim for the back of his crew cut when he turns. His face splits with a crooked smile.

"There you are," he says, making no effort to draw his weapon.

"Crow. Long time, no see."

He chuckles. "Yeah. I'm hard to miss too."

He lowers his big frame onto the edge of one of the accent chairs. I'm surprised it doesn't tip under his weight. Crow fits his name. Black hair and black eyes and, if I had to guess, a black heart to match. Big and loud and there's no vermin too indecent to fatten his wallet. Not that I'm one to judge, except he has a penchant for pissing in my backyard from time to time.

"Jay's wondering what you've been up to. Your trigger finger broken?"

"Not remotely," I mutter, my aim more than steady.

I'm ready to push Crow for more information when I spot movement in my periphery. I knew he wouldn't be alone. The third party is stone-faced and leaner than both of us, edging his way into view from his hiding spot in the entryway. His eyes are round and glassy, like an owl who sees everything. I'm not sure he's blinked since I noticed him.

"Drop it." His voice wavers.

"Have you met Hogan? No?"

Crow lets out a shitty, condescending laugh. Despite it, I decide to play nice and let the gun fall with a thud on Mateus's expensive Persian rug. Thankfully I don't need it to fuck Crow up and take out his helper. Crow's overconfidence has gotten him into trouble before, and I'm more than ready to take advantage of it. Just as soon as I find out a few things.

"How did you find us?"

Crow draws his gun and points lazily to the chair. "Have a seat."

"No thanks."