The Switch by JC Emery Read Free Book Online Page B

think Victor can feel the angry vibes rolling off Chase’s shoulders. It’s just as well. I’d rather not get into pissing contest right here.
    “ Save it, Victor,” I say, about to go off on him. Victor never had a problem with how fast I moved when it involved him, but now he sure does. His ego has been bruised, and he is doing the only thing he can to save face—being the Victor Abraham who does business in warehouses, under the watchful eye of his lackeys, his own turf. It’s not really fair, but fair hardly matters to a man like Victor. He’s definitely the kind of guy who doesn’t care how you play the game, just that he’s the one who ends up winning. The term morally bankrupt comes to mind. But then, I try not to go around labeling others. People who live in glass houses . . .
    “ Shelby?”
    Becca’s voice trembles in fear as she moves into my line of sight, just off to Victor’s side. I can’t see her face, but she’s bent over, and by how she wraps her arms around her torso, I can tell how difficult this is on her. I don’t know yet if she’s hurt.
    My heart breaks into a million little pieces. I never wanted to involve her, never imagined Victor would involve her—or rather, I never imagined Victor’s lackeys would be so stupid that they would take the wrong girl. Then again, I never imagined a breakup could end this poorly.
    Seeing Becca for the first time since the morning she was taken sends my stomach roiling. My eyes fill with unshed tears, and I stop thinking of myself for once. Becca has always been the good one of the two of us, never stepping more than a toe out of line. I was always the one who dragged her to parties in high school and then had to beg her older brother to come pick us up when we were too drunk to drive home or even to find a decent ride. She is the one who went right into the nursing program after high school, never looking for something easier or something better. She’s always been happy to work for what she gets, even if that means getting very little. But no, that’s never been me. I always wanted more, still want more. And I never think, or rarely think, about how my actions will affect others. And this situation is proof positive of that fact.
    I rush toward Vic but only get a few feet. Before I can blink, he pulls out a gun and aims it at my head. The second time today I’ve had a gun to my head. And the second time today that it’s been Victor’s fault. I stop in my tracks and the world begins to play out in slow motion.
    Behind me , I hear the cocking of a gun. In my head I’m doing some kind of awesome maneuver that blocks Victor from seeing the gun I know Chase has pulled. Oh, and I’m totally bulletproof. Unfortunately, in the real world, I’m not doing anything nearly as awesome. I’m standing here chanting no repeatedly in my head. Frozen.
    I hear footsteps from behind me. Chase walks up, the gun pointed at Victor’s head. His arm is steady, his breathing slow. But his jaw is locked , and the muscles in his thick neck are tight with the tension. I barely know him, but I already care about him, and there’s no mistaking how very bad this situation has become.
    “ Behind me, Shelby. Now,” Chase practically barks at me.
    I look at him and then at Victor, who still has the gun at my head. To my surprise, Victor lowers the gun and smirks at Chase. He’s not surrendering—I know him well enough to know that. I back up and move behind Chase as Victor yanks Becca to his side and pushes the barrel of the gun into her temple. Instinctively I reach out and grip Chase’s waist. He barely reacts to my nervous pinch, not even a wince. If not for the ever so slight lean of his body toward mine, I wouldn’t think he’d even felt it.
    “You picked yourself a real hero, didn’t you?” Victor says.
    My eyes have welled with tears. I almost miss the footsteps as they approach. Nikolai is no more than a foot or two behind me, his gun pointed at Chase,