ISLA
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“Are you going to hand her over or should I come take her myself?” Lorenzo’s voice slid through the warehouse when no one made a move. He hadn’t yelled but the weight of his voice pressed down on the three men surrounding me.
They froze. For a moment, nobody moved. The only sound was a faint drip of water somewhere around the warehouse. The men exchanged glances. Their eyes darted between each other, then to me, most likely wondering if I was worth the trouble. They looked at Lorenzo again, but he was still standing at the entrance, one hand loose by his side, while the other rested in his pocket as though three guns pointed at him were nothing short of an inconvenience.
He didn’t have a weapon, at least, none that I could see. No reinforcements. He was one person. There were
