Chapter 3 - The Trap is Sprung
The air inside the diner turned to glass.
Sheriff Miller’s face paled slightly, while Marcus’s expression hardened into something brutal and murderous.
"You shouldn't have said that, little girl," Marcus growled, reaching across the counter to grab her throat.
Before his hand could touch her, the glass front window of the diner shattered into a million glittering pieces.
The high-pitched crack of a rifle echo vibrated through the street. Marcus screamed as a bullet tore through his shoulder, spinning him around and slamming him against the booth. Sheriff Miller drew his revolver, but a second shot blew the weapon right out of his hand, severing his trigger finger in a spray of red.
"Down!" Nora screamed, diving behind the heavy steel counter just as the diner’s side door was kicked off its hinges.
Three men in dark tactical gear flooded the room, led by Mateo, Silas's head of security—a man who had been missing since the previous evening. Behind them stepped Silas Cade himself.
He was dressed in a dark tactical coat, a heavy black scarf covering his neck, his face pale but his posture commandingly upright. In his right hand, he held a sleek, silenced submachine gun.
"Miller," Silas said, his voice slicing through the groans of the wounded sheriff. "You always were a terrible shot."
"Silas!" Miller gasped, clutching his bleeding hand as he backed into the corner near the jukebox. "You were supposed to be dead! The ice—"
"The ice was cold," Silas said calmly, stepping around the shattered glass to stand over Marcus, who was bleeding heavily on the vinyl floor. "But Nora’s knife was sharper than your brain."
Silas looked over the counter at Nora, who was peeking up, wide-eyed and breathless.
"I told you to press speed dial," Silas said softly, a tiny hint of dry humor in his tone. "You held out until the last second."
"I was waiting for you to make an entrance," Nora retorted, pulling herself up, her knees shaking.
Silas turned his attention back to Marcus. He placed the heavy boot of his left leg firmly on Marcus’s wounded shoulder, applying just enough pressure to make the traitor scream in agony.
"Where are the ledgers, Marcus?" Silas demanded quietly. "Vance doesn't have them yet, or Miller wouldn't be riding shotgun with you searching for me. Where are they?"
"Go to hell, Cade!" Marcus spat, blood pooling between his teeth. "Vance is going to sweep this town! He’s got state troopers in his pocket! You’re finished!"
Silas didn't raise his voice. He simply leaned down, pulled a heavy manila folder from Mateo’s bag, and threw it onto Marcus’s chest.
"These are the bank records for your sister's medical clinic in Boston," Silas said coldly. "The clinic I funded three years ago when her leukemia returned. The clinic I still pay for every month. Do you think Mayor Vance cares about your sister, Marcus? Do you think he will keep sending those checks when I am gone?"
Marcus stared at the folder, his violent defiance collapsing instantly into horror. "No... Silas, please... she doesn't know anything about this—"
"Then give me the ledgers," Silas commanded. "Or by noon, her treatment ends."
It was a ruthless, terrifying display of leverage, and Nora watched it with a mixture of shock and awe. Silas wasn't a saint; he was a kingpin who knew every weakness of every man who served him.
"In the safe," Marcus wept, his spirit completely broken. "In the old lighthouse keeper's cottage at Blackwood Point. Vance's men are holding the ledgers there until the Canadian buyer arrives tonight at midnight."
Silas lifted his boot from Marcus's shoulder and looked at Mateo. "Bind them both. Throw them in the back of the icehouse cell. If they bleed out, make sure they don't stain the stone."
"Yes, Boss," Mateo grunted, grabbing Miller and Marcus like bags of grain.
Silas turned to Nora, stepping over the broken glass to offer her his hand. His palm was warm, strong, and steady.
"You okay?" he asked gently.
May you like
"I just watched my diner get turned into a war zone," Nora breathed, looking around at the bullet holes and broken coffee mugs. "And my boss is going to fire me."
"You don't work here anymore," Silas said, pulling her gently toward the door. "From now on, you're with me. We have a lighthouse to take."
