Under Fire
Selena's POV
The bullet missed Selena's head by an inch.
She dove behind a rusted car as more shots rang out. Rook landed beside her, his gun already in his hand.
"How many?" she gasped.
"Six. Maybe more."
They had made it two blocks from the river before the black SUVs found them. Now they were pinned down in an old parking lot with nowhere to run.
"Stay low," Rook whispered.
A bullet punched through the car window above their heads. Glass rained down on them.
"We can't stay here," Selena said.
"I know."
Rook peered around the car's bumper. "There's a family trapped in that building."
Selena looked where he was pointing. Across the lot stood a small apartment building. She could see faces in the windows. A woman holding a baby. An old man trying to pull his wife away from the glass.
"The shooters don't care," Rook said grimly. "They're firing at anything that moves."
As if to prove his point, bullets shattered a window where the old couple had been standing. The woman screamed.
"We have to help them," Selena said.
"My job is to protect you."
"Your job is to be human!"
Rook stared at her for a moment. Then something changed in his face. The cold mask slipped away.
"You're right," he said quietly.
He checked his ammunition. "Can you shoot?"
"Dad taught me when I was ten."
"Good. Take this." He handed her a smaller gun. "Safety's off. Point and squeeze. Don't think about it."
"What are you going to do?"
"Draw their fire. When they focus on me, you get those people to safety."
"That's suicide!"
"Maybe. But it's the right thing to do."
Before Selena could stop him, Rook rolled out from behind the car. His gun blazed as he sprinted toward the building.
The gunmen immediately turned their attention to him. Bullets chased his footsteps across the pavement.
Selena ran in the opposite direction, staying low. She reached the building's side entrance and kicked it open.
"Everyone out!" she shouted up the stairs. "Now!"
The old couple appeared first, moving slowly. Then the woman with the baby. A teenage boy carrying his little sister.
"This way," Selena guided them toward the back exit.
But as they reached the door, it burst open. A masked gunman stood there, his weapon raised.
"Well, well," he said. "Selena Rossi."
Time slowed down. The gunman's finger tightened on the trigger. The baby started crying. The little girl whimpered.
Selena raised her gun and fired.
The shot took the gunman in the shoulder, spinning him around. His own shot went wild, hitting the ceiling.
"Run!" Selena yelled to the families.
They scattered into the night. The old man paused long enough to grab Selena's hand.
"Thank you," he whispered.
Then they were gone.
The wounded gunman was getting to his feet, reaching for his dropped weapon. Selena pointed her gun at him.
"Don't move," she warned.
"You won't shoot," he sneered. "Rich girls don't have the guts."
"Want to bet?"
Something in her voice made him freeze. Maybe he saw the same fire that burned in her father's eyes. The same deadly certainty.
"Who sent you?" she demanded.
"Someone who wants you dead."
"I figured that out. Who?"
The gunman smiled, blood running down his arm. "Someone you love."
Before Selena could ask what he meant, another shot rang out. The gunman crumpled to the ground.
Rook appeared in the doorway, smoke rising from his gun barrel.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
"No. The families?"
"Safe. I saw them running." He looked at the dead gunman. "What did he tell you?"
"That someone I love wants me dead."
Rook's jaw tightened. "He was trying to mess with your head."
"Was he?"
They stared at each other. Outside, car engines roared to life. The surviving gunmen were retreating.
"We need to move," Rook said.
They slipped out the back of the building. The parking lot was empty now except for bullet holes and broken glass.
"The way you fought back there," Selena said as they walked. "You saved those people."
"So did you."
"I almost threw up."
"But you didn't run. You stood your ground."
They reached the street. In the distance, sirens wailed. Police or ambulances, Selena couldn't tell.
"Why did you help them?" she asked. "The families, I mean."
Rook was quiet for a moment. "Because I used to be like that little girl. Scared. Helpless. No one helped me."
"Is that why you became what you are?"
"Part of it."
They walked in silence for a few blocks. Selena's mind was spinning. Everything she thought she knew about Rook was changing.
"Back in the parking lot," she said. "You could have left those people to die. It would have been easier."
"Easier isn't always right."
"My father would have left them."
"I'm not your father."
"No," Selena said softly. "You're not."
They reached another abandoned building. This one looked like it used to be a hotel. Rook picked the lock on a side door.
"We'll rest here for an hour," he said. "Then we go get your father."
The lobby was full of dust and old furniture. Selena sat on a torn couch while Rook checked the windows.
"Rook?"
"Yeah?"
"When you saved my mother's life all those years ago. What really happened?"
He stopped checking the window. "You want the whole truth?"
"Yes."
"She was eight months pregnant with you. Someone tried to run her car off the road."
Selena's breath caught. "What?"
"I was following her. Part of my job was to keep her safe until you were born."
"Safe from who?"
"The same person who wanted her dead three years ago."
"But you said Dad ordered the hit."
"He did. But he wasn't the one who wanted her dead originally."
Selena felt dizzy. "I don't understand."
"Your mother had an enemy. Someone who hated her enough to wait years for the perfect moment to strike."
"Who?"
Rook turned from the window. His face was grim. "Someone who knew that the best way to hurt your mother was to make your father give the order himself."
"That's impossible. Dad loved her."
"Did he? Or did someone convince him she was a threat?"
Selena's mind raced. "The evidence she found about the senator. Someone planted it."
"Now you're thinking like your mother."
"But why? Why go through all that trouble?"
"Because this person didn't just want your mother dead. They wanted your family destroyed from the inside."
A chill ran down Selena's spine. "Are they still trying?"
"What do you think?"
Before she could answer, Rook's phone buzzed. He looked at the cracked screen and his face went white.
"What is it?" Selena asked.
He showed her the message. It was another photo of her father. But this time he wasn't alone.
Tied to the chair next to him was Detective Vance, the cop who worked for her family. His face was bloody and swollen.
Below the photo was a message: "Bring the girl to Warehouse 9. One hour. Come alone or they both die. P.S. - Ask Rook about the fire."
"What fire?" Selena looked at Rook.
His hands were shaking as he put the phone away. "The night I met your mother."
"What about it?"
"She wasn't just in a car accident. Someone set her apartment on fire first. She barely escaped."
"Who would—" Selena stopped. The pieces were clicking together in her mind. "Someone who had access to her building. Someone she trusted."
"Yes."
"Someone who knew she was pregnant."
"Yes."
"Someone who's been planning this for years."
Rook nodded grimly. "And now they have your father and Detective Vance. The only two people who know the truth about that night."
Selena stood up, her legs shaky. "We're walking into a trap."
"I know."
"They're going to kill us all."
"Probably."
"Then why are we going?"
Rook looked at her with something that might have been respect. "Because sometimes the only way out of hell is straight through it."
As they headed for the door, Selena grabbed his arm.
"The person behind all this. The one who really wants me dead. Do I really know them?"
Rook met her eyes. In them she saw pain, regret, and something else. Fear.
"Selena," he said quietly, "they're not just someone you know."
"Then who?"
"They're someone who should have protected you. Someone who was supposed to love you."
The words hit her like ice water. "That's impossible."
"Is it?"
As they stepped into the night, heading toward what might be their final battle, one terrible thought echoed in Selena's mind:
If Rook was right, then the person who wanted her dead wasn't just family.
They were the only family she had left.