Twisted Tides (Forged Hearts #2)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Eight

EVIE

“Seventy Thorns” by Jonathan Davis and Kim Dracula

O ne thing I notice straight away is that there are a lot of men here. I gulp, holding onto Mateo’s hand with a firmer grip. The second thing I notice is Oro, standing by the large picture window, flicking his tongue at me. My nostrils flare. He’s provoking me. His laughter rises up above the crowd to mock me. My anger takes over as my primary emotion as I envision his head exploding. Gray matter flies out of his brain with force as a projectile shoots through his skull, causing his head to crack open like a watermelon. I hear the gasps as people duck and run.

I blink, but the image stays.

That’s when I realize he was shot, and what I was envisioning wasn’t my imagination, but it really happened.

The band breaks into another song with harsh lyrics and death metal vocals. I feel like I am in one of my nightmares—a kaleidoscope of images and lights flickering from one scene to the other. Too much is happening that I can’t focus on one thing. The images shift and then disappear as bodies fall to the floor as the sound of gunfire echoes in the mansion—dead men who wanted to purchase two young women.

A person jumps through the fractured glass, causing me to gasp in surprise. The glass further shatters the remaining window pane as men in tuxedos and skull face paint begin to surround us.

People run for the door, hit with bullets before exiting and landing facedown, taking their last breath before the light vanishes from their eyes. Blood pools all around, and the screaming and yelling escalate along with the frightening lyrics that continue to play forth from the band, making for a hellish sight. The security guards turn their fire onto the crowd.

I hit the SOS button and see one of the masked men shift his face to me. Why is he looking at me? Did he hear it? How could he possibly… Then recognition hits.

It’s Jameson. He’s here. I look around at the other masked men, now approaching us at an alarming speed. Knowing who they are, I smile, and Jameson’s smile mimics mine. He strides toward me with purpose but gets punched by a man with a bald head. He is not one of the paying guests, but as it turns out, he is one of Mr. Martinez’s security detail.

I turn around to see Marcus coming at me. He grabs my wrist, and I pull it toward me and push it out of his hold as my other hand hits him with the flat palm of my hand, striking him with a hard upward motion straight to his nose. I feel the crack under my palm. He raises his hands to stop the blood pouring out as I knee him in the balls. He drops forward onto his knees, not knowing what to hold.

Mateo takes his gun out and shoots Marcus, while Emma pushes his collapsing body over the balcony railing, where he falls in a freakish fashion. When he hits the highly polished flooring, his legs and arms are bent unnaturally. His eyes are open, staring into nothing. Blood quickly drains from his lifeless form, pooling underneath and outlining his body.

Mateo has his back turned, so he doesn’t see what happens next. Mr. Martinez makes a rush for him. His gun is raised as he points it with his sights locked on Mateo’s chest. I hear someone call his name, and he turns to see where the voice came from.

“Mateo. Watch out!”

Mateo turns his head to lock stares with his father, who now has the gun pointed firmly at his chest.

“Son, I thought better of you. I didn’t think you, of all people, would betray me. Your own father.” He walks closer.

Emma stands still, and I beg her not to move. To cause him to have the trigger pointed at her instead.

“What a disappointment.”

We see and hear the gun go off. The bullet is set to hit its target right as Ramón jumps in front of his grandson, pushing him out of the way. The force of the bullet causes Ramón to fall backward and tumble down the stairs. Mateo runs after him, halting his rapid descent.

I watch in disbelief that Ramón saved my brother from his father. I breathe in a deep, meditative breath to calm the anxiety rising up, threatening to throw me into a panic attack. I hear a grunt and open my eyes to see Emma standing over Mr. Martinez.

“You sick fuck. You thought you could sell us. You and your son, Julian, are the worst kind of evil, with no chance for redemption. Now, I can end this, and I hope you meet your son where you both can rot in hell where you belong.” Emma holds the gun at Mr. Martinez’s head.

He sneers. “You don’t have the?—”

She fires, as blood splatters over Emma’s chest and face. She looks like an avenging goddess covered in her tormentor’s blood. She drops the gun and rushes over to me.

“Deep breaths, Evie, I’ve got you. I’ve got you like you’ve always got me.” Her hand runs over my forehead as I kneel on the floor, sucking in lungfuls of air without the feeling of my lungs fully expanding. I can’t get enough air to breathe, and I’m starting to panic.

“Evie!” I hear a familiar voice as my vision starts to go.

“Emma!”

Jameson and Eduardo are here with us. Eduardo is kissing Emma, despite all the blood covering her chest and face. I am immediately engulfed in a warm embrace, and Jameson’s soothing voice helps me calm my breathing.

“Count, Evie. Hold it in for two counts and slowly let it out. Okay, now do it again, baby. I’ve got you. I’m here. Let’s get you both out of here.”

I stand on shaky legs. I can take a deep breath once again. I nod. Now, Emma is next to me. She holds onto my hand as we descend the stairs and sees Mateo holding Ramón. Emma runs down the remaining stairs to help him.

“Mateo, how is he?” She drops beside him, feels his skin, and checks for a pulse. Blood coats his arm where a bullet intended for Mateo grazed him, but otherwise, it did not injure him.

Emma rips his shirt and assesses him for other gunshot wounds. “It’s just a graze, Mateo, but we should get him to a hospital after that fall. Something could be broken.”

Another man in a tuxedo with a skull-painted face approaches.

“Does he need an ambulance?”

Eduardo answers while looking at his fiancée for further direction. “Emma?”

She shakes her head. “I’m not sure of his injuries. If we call an ambulance, it might bring attention to us.”

The man talking to Eduardo looks over to me. “The area is secure. No one will say anything, and the property has been searched. We found a dead body in the basement. A middle-aged woman. I believe it was his wife, Mrs. Martinez.”

I look over to Emma, and she nods knowingly. I’m glad they are all dead. “Let’s get Ramón to a hospital. He saved my brother, and I consider him part of our family now.”

Eduardo nods. “Agreed. Let’s get him help.”

They carry Ramón out of there, and we follow. Jameson holds my hand. I can’t help but look at where the band played a while ago and think of how differently this night started.

There is a large SUV waiting for us. Eduardo opens the door, and Emma gets in. Jameson pulls me in and onto his lap. I sit there curled up in his warm embrace as he rubs circles on my back. The vehicle idles. I’m waiting for us to leave when a blaze erupts from my peripheral vision. Jameson’s hand tightens around me, and I focus on the beautiful fire that engulfs the house.

“That is how it all started, you know,” I say aloud to anyone and no one.

Jameson places a kiss on my neck, trailing up to my ear, and places another soft kiss there. “And this is how it ends,” he whispers in my ear.

I bury my head into his chest and cry, and he lets me, just content in holding me tightly to him as I unleash all the emotions I have kept hidden. I cry for my parents, who died in that fire years ago, along with a part of me. Emma thought I was dead, and I might have been if it wasn’t for my brother, who saved me that night.

We drive out of the property gates and onto the highway, leaving behind our past forged in fire. The tides turned that day. Julian took everything from us, yet we rose from the ashes and came out stronger after it all.

I once told Emma that when something bad happens and causes everything you once believed in and loved to burn to the ground, you have no choice but to rise with an unbreakable strength amid the flames.

Those intense periods of pain became our black wave—unrelenting. We persevered. We spread our wings and soared away from the past and into our new future, transformed and resilient. Despite it all, we now have a newfound strength to help us heal our family—our forged hearts. The rising, falling, and turning twisted tides broke free, crushing all our enemies in their wake, ensuring that for once, we are finally free.