The scarred man’s gaze moved from me to Rico and back again, calm as still water. My heart pounded so loud I felt it in my fingertips.
“I said I’m leaving,” I repeated, my voice firmer than my legs.
Rico stepped into the light, bare feet quiet on the tile, jaw tight and eyes darker than I had ever seen. “Lower it, Marco.”
Marco angled the barrel toward the floor but kept it in his hand. “You told us to keep her inside.”
My stomach sank as I stared at Rico. “You what?”
Rico kept his eyes on Marco. “I said lower it.”
Marco paused, then slid the gun into his waistband anddisappeared into the hallway shadows. The front door remained shut and I heard the soft click of a lock I had never noticed.
Rico finally looked at me. “It’s not what you think.”
“It’s exactly what I think.” My duffel
