Hers [Book #2]

Chapter 28

My head swiveled in Tristan's direction just as he hung up on whoever he had been speaking to.

"Who was that?"

"Cyrus. It turns out, Shäfer is no longer at the warehouse like he had been a few days ago."

"What?" I felt like the blood flow to my heart had suddenly stopped, the fear of losing Gianni increasing tenfold. Tristan and I can't lose any more people. Our hearts can't take it.

Tristan leaned forward slightly and murmured something to our driver in our mother language. Suddenly, the car was swerving into the furthest lane to the right, before making a hard right turn on red.

Tristan simply rested his hand on my thigh, his voice eerily calm. "There's been a change of plans."

The car made a couple more turns before parking in front of some abandoned motel. The letters were peeling off the sign, the egg-white paint chipping off the walls, and one of the windows smashed in.

The small, rectangular led light bulb flickered on and off, only adding to the cryptic-looking trap house.

My door was opened, and the driver offered his hand as I stepped out of the vehicle. I kept my purse containing my gun close to my chest, feeling as though I may have to use it.

A chill skittered down my spine like little ants marching in a single file line. The air smelled heavily of cigarette smoke, reminding me of how much I wanted Tristan to quit his cigar habit.

"No," he blurted out. "You stay in the car."

"But Tris-"

I closed my mouth and got back in the car as soon as I saw the hard glare on his face. After all the times I failed to listen to his instruction, and regretted it, I knew better than to argue.

The door was closed, and the driver returned to the front seat. I heard the sound of a click, indicating that the doors had been locked. I huffed out of frustration, wanting so badly to light a fire under those Germans' asses.

I watched from the window as Tristan withdrew his gun and swiftly loaded it with golden bullets.

Cyrus must have informed him of the Germans' new location. Which I hope meant that he along with a few of the other guys were here.

I didn't want Tristan walking in there alone. Because if I lose him...

I shook the thought from my mind. I didn't want to think about what I would do if something were to happen to him. All I know is that his reckless ass better come out of there alive or I'm beating his ass.

****

Tristan's POV
The moment I enter the abandoned building, I'm hit with the smell of smoke, perfume, and mildew.

My fingers rest on the trigger, my guard up and the adrenaline coursing through me dangerously high.

I told Rachel that the kid wasn't my problem. And I meant that shit.

But now she's dead, and the child no longer has a father or mother to take care of him. He's alone. Had I been asked about whether or not I cared four years ago, I would have said no.

That was before I became a father. And before I realized that despite my dead cunt of a father's sperm running about, the child had Lucci blood in his veins.

So as much as I wanted to believe he wasn't my problem- he was. And he will forever be my problem.

I stepped over dead bodies, this looking very much like the work of my men. I whipped my head to the left when I heard a male voice, followed by a loud thwack in the distance. It echoed loudly, bouncing off the walls.