Page 60 of Silver Sinner

She crumples to the floor as if her limbs were simply bags filled with air, now depleted. Her head cracks against the countertop as she falls, leaving a wider streak of blood and gore that scars the edge like a crack in reality. When she crumples, her arms and legs almost don't seem to know where to go and she lands folded over on herself with her head caught at an angle between the floor and the cupboard door.

Her eyes remain on me, dark and empty as words fly from the green masked man almost in slow motion.

"No names!"

I can't breathe.

She's staring at me and I can't breathe.

"You killed her! You fucking shot her, man!" Yellow yells. "The fuck did you do that for?!"

"No names!" Green yells.

"Fuck, man! What do we do!"

"I don't fucking know, do I?"

"You fucking idiot! You fucking—you absolute fucking idiot!" Yellow raises both hands, my pendant dangling from his clasped fist.

“She was gonna talk! She was gonna tell her our names!”

“So you fucking kill her?”

“I can’t go back to prison, man, I can’t!”

“It was only supposed to be about the money!”

"Shit. Shit! Fuck, go!" Green suddenly surges forward and collides with Yellow, sending them both barreling toward the broken window. "Go! Go!"

They leap over me and kick the covering free from the broken window. Then they're gone into the night, the last echo of their landing in the trash cans below.

Amy keeps staring at me. I can't breathe until Madeline's sobbing yells finally pierce the bubble I've fallen into.

"Maddie!" I scream. "Mommy's here! Mommy's⁠—"

Wood splinters and cracks with a deafening thud as the front door's kicked wide open, and despair drenches me in a chill.

No more.

I can't take any more.

22

PIERCE

In all my years, I've never experienced a fear quite like this one. A thousand scenarios burst across my thoughts as I race to Layla's apartment, each one more horrifying than the last. Assigning someone to watch her was supposed to keep her safe, but we're three minutes away when the call comes through that the first team dispatched by Moses has arrived. They've broken into her apartment, securing her.

The three words confirming that she's alive do nothing to quell the panic clawing its way up through my gut and nestling in my ribs like some kind of infestation. New York is too vast and I'm too far away. Even as we pull onto her street, her apartment building stretches away from me. Moses screeches the car to a stop, and I'm out of the car before he even stops moving. Several of my men mill about the Chinese restaurant, deep in conversation with the owners while calming them and reassuring them that no matter what's going on or what they heard, everything is fine.

I take the steps two at a time and fly into Layla's apartment. The tang of blood greets me and my heart seizes up in my chest, making me stumble to a hesitant stop. I fear for a split second that something even more horrific has happened in between that text and now.

"Boss?" One of my men, clad in jeans and a dark polo shirt, emerges from the kitchen. "Bodies in there."

"Layla?" I croak out, barely registering how my voice trembles.

"Bedroom." He points in the direction.

I throw myself down the hallway to that exact room, and don't stop until I'm filling the doorway, holding the frame for support.