Chapter Two: The Ambush

Isla POV

“Watch out!”

Rain slammed against the windshield as Naomi swerved hard through the empty streets, zigzagging to shake the black SUV behind us.

“Hold on.” Her hands stayed steady on the wheel even as the tires screeched around another corner.

“Naomi,” I said, pointing ahead. “Take the next left. Then right at the traffic light.”

She jerked the wheel left without hesitation, then cut sharply right.

“You see them?” she asked, easing off the accelerator.

I twisted around and scanned the rain-streaked rear window. Nothing. Just wet pavement and a lonely streetlamp flickering two blocks away.

"No," I said, catching my breath. "I think we lost them."

"Thank God." Some of the tension left her shoulders. "I thought my driving skills were about to fail me.”

"Don't celebrate yet.” I kept my eyes on the mirror. “We still have to get to the garage.”

She nodded and kept driving.

A few minutes later, Naomi turned into the old garage on the edge of the industrial district, hidden between abandoned warehouses. This was where we always switched cars after a job. She pulled inside and killed the engine. The space was silent and empty except for our backup sedan waiting under a faded black cover.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said, already reaching for the door.

We climbed out together. I slipped the envelope halfway out of my clutch, ready to move it into the second car.

A shoe scraped across concrete.

Then the shadows moved behind one of the pillars.

Three masked men stepped into the open, all dressed in black. The one in front already had a gun pointed at us.

“Give us the envelope,” he said. “Nice and easy, and nobody gets hurt.”

My fingers tightened around it.

“Isla,” Naomi whispered, panic creeping into her voice. “Just give it to them.”

“Smart girl,” the man said, stepping closer. “You should listen to her.”

I didn’t move.

His patience snapped. He lunged. I twisted away and drove my elbow into his ribs. He grunted and stumbled.

Before I could recover, another man grabbed my wrist. His fingers dug into my skin. I drove my knee into his stomach and kicked until his grip broke.

“Isla, watch out!” Naomi screamed.

I spun around. The third man had his gun raised, finger curled around the trigger.

Naomi threw herself at him.

The gunshot exploded through the garage. For one horrifying second, everything stood still.

Then Naomi collapsed onto the concrete.

“Naomi!”

I rushed toward her. Another shot rang out. Pain ripped across my shoulder. Staggering, I dropped beside her and pulled her into my arms.

“Come on,” I said, trying to lift her. “Stay with me.”

Blood soaked through my hands. Ignoring the burn in my shoulder, I dragged her toward the car with everything I had left.

Behind us, one of the men picked up the envelope that had slipped from my grasp during the struggle. I didn’t look back.

I shoved Naomi into the passenger seat and threw myself behind the wheel. Tires screeched as we tore out of the garage.

“Naomi… stay with me.” I pressed one hand against her side while steering with the other. Warm blood seeped through my fingers.

“Talk to me,” I pleaded. “Yell at me. Call me anything. Just… don’t go quiet.”

“You’re…” She struggled for breath. “…so annoying.”

I tried to laugh with the tears burning my eyes. “I know. We’ll argue about it later. You still owe me dinner, remember? So don’t you dare leave me.”

She didn’t answer.

“Naomi?”

Her head rested against the window.

“Naomi!”

I ran every red light to Mercy General Hospital. Rain kept pouring. All I could see was the blood on my hands, soaking into the passenger seat.

By the time I skidded into the emergency bay, I was already shouting before the car fully stopped. “Help!”

Two nurses and a doctor rushed out with a gurney.

“Gunshot victim,” I cried. “Please! Help her!”

They pulled Naomi from the car and rushed her inside. I tried to follow as they moved through the double doors. Someone grabbed my arm.

“You have to stay here, ma’am.”

“No!” I struggled against their grip. “She’s my family!”

“You’re bleeding too.”

“I don’t care!”

“Please, let us do our job.”

I watched as the doors swung shut in my face, while I stood there covered in Naomi’s blood, my shoulder throbbing under the wet jacket.

—————————————————————————————

The waiting area smelled of dried blood and antiseptic. A nurse pulled me aside and stitched my shoulder. I sat on one of the chairs facing the double doors. My eyes never left them.

Every time they opened, my heart lurched. Every time they closed, it sank again. I could hear hurried footsteps and muffled voices on the other side, but I couldn’t see anything.

When the doctor finally walked toward me, I already knew.

“Are you her guardian?”

“Yes.” I pushed myself to my feet. “I’m Isla Virelli.”

“She’s suffered severe internal bleeding and went into shock. We’ve managed to slow down the bleeding and put her on oxygen, but she needs to be admitted to the ICU for intensive care.”

“How much will that cost?”

He told me the amount. It sat heavy in my head. More money than I had.

We had barely been making ends meet after the last debt we settled. Even with this job, the envelope had been stolen. Where was I supposed to get that kind of money?

“I…” My mouth went dry. “I don’t have that.”

“Miss Virelli, we don’t have much time.”

“There has to be another way.”

“I wish there was.”

“I’ll find it,” I said. “I’ll get the money somehow. Just… please do whatever it takes to save her.”

The doctor gave me a sympathetic nod before he went back through the doors.

I sank back into the plastic chair and buried my face in my bloodstained hands. Naomi was fighting for her life because of me. Because I had taken the job. Because I had let her jump in front of that gun.

I had money saved, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

My throat burned. I pressed my palms harder against my eyes, but the image of her collapsing wouldn’t leave.

“Miss Virelli.”

The voice cut through the noise of my thoughts.

I lifted my head.

A woman was walking toward me, dressed in an elegant charcoal suit and pants. Silver streaks ran through her dark hair, pulled into a flawless twist. Her eyes were cold, clear blue, and they didn’t look away from me.

“Miss Virelli,” she repeated. “I’ve been looking for you.”