Page 73 of Branded By Shadow
No Brianna.
The white van out front was cover.
My hand goes to my gun.
Civilians everywhere.
Can’t draw.
Not yet.
A waitress freezes near the counter. “Sir?”
“The two women in the back booth,” I bark. “Where?”
Her face goes pale.
“I don’t know. One of them looked sick. These men came from the hall and helped her up.”
“Men?”
“Two. Maybe three.” Her voice shakes. “They said they were family.”
Family.
I’m going to kill them.
I’m going to rip Landon apart with my bare hands.
And if Brianna helped him, she can watch.
The thought is calm.
That’s how I know it’s bad.
I move for the hallway.
A man steps out of the restroom and sees my face. He flattens himself against the wall.
Smart man.
The rear exit hangs open by two inches.
Cold air cuts through.
I slam through it into the alley.
Too late.
The alley is empty except for a delivery cart, a busted crate, and fresh tire marks cutting through a puddle near the back curb.
At the mouth of the alley, a black SUV cuts into traffic.
Black Chevy Tahoe. Tinted windows. Mud on the rear bumper. Sticker on the lower left corner of the back glass. Partial plate before it swings behind a delivery truck.
K7.
Maybe KZ.
