For Logan (Chicago Syndicate Book 5) by Soraya Naomi

conciliatory effort, I rack my brain for options.
    He continues to provoke me, “But this works out well for me. She’s much more valuable to Dimitri than you are.” Again, he glimpses at Rosa but clearly doesn’t perceive her as a threat as his gaze is promptly fixed back on me. Then he speaks to Rosa, “I’ll let him live, if you come with me.”
    Of course, he’s lying. He’ll shoot me and kidnap her using any means necessary. Nevertheless, I don’t have another plan. We’re fucking cornered with no back-up.
    Where the fuck are the Syndicate’s soldiers? And did Rosa contact Luca?
    Indecision crosses her face, so I try to give her a look, warning her not to cave, but I’m not sure if my message is clear as her trembling intensifies.
    She takes a deep breath. “Okay...”
    No! I need her to be reckless Rosa now.
    Gradually, she lowers her arms but keeps her eyes trained on his weapon until he also shifts it downward. Instantly, she finds her target again and pulls the trigger. The recoil jolts her backward, and I dodge to the side as the bullet punctures his chest and she releases another one. I hurl myself against his legs and jump onto him to snatch his Glock, shooting him in the heart to end him, and he goes slack. Letting go of the pistol, I move to Rosa. She’s still standing with her arms extended in a state of shock.
    “Rosa...” I approach her and gently push her arms down, confiscating my gun and stashing it in the back waistband of my pants.
    “Is he dead?” she asks, whisper-soft.
    “Yes.”
    The muscles in her throat betray her mental strain. It’s the impact of the receding adrenaline rush. A wave of anger washes over me. I’m livid at the Syndicate for putting her in this vulnerable situation. If they had informed her about what’s going on, this wouldn’t have happened. It’s a direct consequence of her innocence and inexperience. Though that isn’t her fault, and I’m not mad at her. Quite the contrary; she just saved us.
    I cup the back of her head in both hands, my thumb stroking the high arc of her cheek. “I told you to leave.” Everyone I care about always ends up hurt or dead; and with every encounter, this attraction to Rosa is making her someone I count on that list – I couldn’t bear to see anything bad happen to her.
    Her eyes water, her brain desperately trying to catch up with the events that just occurred. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t.” She leans forward and presses her forehead against my chest, like she usually does when she needs comfort, so I massage her neck in an effort to soothe her.
    “It’s okay.” Without thinking, I press a kiss to the top of her head, and her arms wind around my middle.
    I give her a few seconds to relax before I spring into action. We’re not safe yet.
    Cradling her face, I force her to look me in the eye. “We need to go, okay? Forget everything for a moment and just trust me until we get to Club 7.”
    She nods unsteadily, but there’s a silent communication of trust in our gaze. Somewhere along the way, the lines have blurred, and the way we interact with each other is changing.
    I take her hand in mine as we stride out and back to my car without running into any more trouble. Guiding Rosa into my vehicle, I buckle her seatbelt before rounding it and firing up the engine to travel toward the club. Her quietness, which is such a contrast to her usual chattering, unsettles me. Something inside me doesn’t like seeing her in this state.
    I move my hand toward hers, which are resting in her lap, and link our fingers together, doing my best to console her without words. I’m unusually pleased when she holds on to me like a lifeline, and as we sit in companionable silence, I can’t refrain from asking one question as I shift the car through the streets of the Loop.
    “Rosa?” I glance at her and she turns to look at me.
    “How did you pull off lighting the candle again? You did that, right?” I say in an impressed