Then he put his hand on my back and pushed me off the balcony.

I screamed in surprise but managed to land in the right spot, my shins taking a beating but I still remained on my feet. Gunshots followed and Javier landed beside me seconds later.

“You ass!” I yelled at him.

“Keep running!” he yelled back and started sprinting past me.

Another bullet went screaming past my ear. Too many close calls and too soon. Too dangerous to even think about it.

I started running, the tiles sliding under my boots, following behind him. Camden and Violetta were a few paces ahead, slowing down as they came to the edge of the roof. Luckily the next building was the same height and there was no gap in between them. In fact, the sea of roofs on the block all seemed to be together, like one giant, distorted house.

Another gun shot rang out and beyond the thudding of my heart in my ears, I could hear the assailants landing on the tiles behind us. Motherfucking shit, they were persistent whoever they were.

We kept running and I willed my legs to move faster as we went from tile, to shingles, to gravel, to stucco, roof to roof to roof. Somewhere in our retreat, Camden and Javier got ahead of us and Violetta started to stagger, her flip flops causing her to stumble so often. I grabbed her by the arm and kept her upright and ran alongside her.

But I knew the men were gaining on us. And I knew we would run out of luck.

I squeezed her arm and told her to keep going and then I stopped and spun around.

A few yards behind us was a lean, dark-complexioned man with an eye patch, ready to take a shot at us. I pulled my trigger before he could, getting him in the stomach by accident.

The man went down with a scream, his gun shooting at nothing. Fucking Mexican pirate.

Unfortunately there were three more men behind him, albeit further back. I didn’t have much time to try my luck. I tried to take in a deep breath, my lungs burning from the air pollution and the exertion, and aimed at them. I fired off three rounds and hit only one of them. The remaining too kept coming.

Time to move.

I turned around and started running again, surprised to see that not only were Camden and Javier further away but that Violetta had stopped and was looking down at something. I booked it up to her and saw what made her pause. There was a large gap between this roof and the next, though it fortunately was half a story shorter. We could make it if we had a running start, a running start we’d both just lost.

“Fuck!” I yelled then whipped behind me to see how much time we had before our pursuers were at us. Not much. I grabbed Violetta’s arm and started running with her back a few steps.

“Ready?” I asked her.

She nodded, her eyes welling with fear.

We both started running, as fast as we could, my hand holding hers until we both launched off of the roof and into the air.

I landed on the roof below, my ankles shuddering in pain from the impact. Thanks to my scarring, they didn’t always hold up after a lot of wear and tear, and I immediately fell to my knees, my legs getting scratched up by the tar shingles.

Violetta’s scream came through a second later.

She had hit the roof, scrambled to hold on then disappeared, falling down the gap to the ground below.

I looked over the edge and saw her lying in a heap on the dirt alley, holding her arm in pain and crying out.

Another shot came dangerously close. The men were coming closer. There was no time to think.

I ran along the roof for a few steps, then jumped down onto a rickety iron balcony that swung with my weight, then launched off of that to the ground below.

I ignored my throbbing ankles and hurried over to her just as one of the men appeared at the rooftop. I aimed and fired, all instinct, and got him right in the head. When he pitched off the roof and fell with a thud to the ground beside us, I dragged Violetta up to her feet. There was no time to be gentle. Her arm was probably broken and it was going to hurt like a bitch, but it was better to be hurt than dead.

“We have to run, okay?” I told her and she cried in response. I had no idea if Camden or Javier even noticed we weren’t behind them but that couldn’t be my concern. We had to get us safe then we’d get to them.

And then, then maybe I’d have a moment to think about the people I’d killed.

Together we scampered down the narrow alley, dirt flying from our feet, just as a bullet ricocheted from the wall. We yelped but kept going, zig-zagging our way toward the street, knowing the last asshole standing was firing at us from the roof.

As soon as we hit the street that ran along the block of buildings, we were a tiny bit safer. At least I figured since there was light traffic on the roads and people going to and fro. However, despite the fact that I was running across the street and darting between the cars with Violetta in tow, both of us bruised, scratched and bleeding, my gun visible in one of my hands, no one really seemed to bat an eye. I wondered how bad Mexico City was for crime then decided it didn’t matter.

We ran up the sidewalk until I saw another alley then brought Violetta down that one and around the corner. I stopped us beside a dumpster that sat behind a café, a couple of stray cats sleeping in the shade.

“Violetta,” I said to her, putting one hand on her good arm and trying to get her to look at me. Her cheeks were wet and dirty, a mess of mascara and tears. She was shaking and sobbing softly. “Violetta, listen to me. Do you know who those men were?”

She shook her head. “No,” she cried. “I didn’t recognize them. Javier told me to go to my room but I wanted to see what was going on. It looked like he heard something out in the hallway. He hid near the door and suddenly a group of men came in the room and started shooting.”

“And you didn’t recognize them?”

She let out a loud sob, shaking her head even more, her forehead scrunched in pain. “No, I don’t know. They looked like cartel men. Bad men.”

Obviously.

“My arm, I think it’s broken,” she whimpered.

I nodded. “I know. We’ll get it fixed, but we have to get Camden and your brother.”

“Screw Javier!” she yelped. “He’s what got us into this in the first place.”

I smiled grimly. “I know. But you don’t mean that. You can’t leave him behind.”

“He left me behind! He forgot I existed.”

“And we’re better than that.” I gave her a steady look, my eyes imploring hers. “Okay? We’re going to go back to your place–”

“No!” she cried out.

“We’re going back to your place,” I said, my voice harder, “and we’re getting my car. Then we’re going to find them. And then we’re gone. You can do this.”

I stared at her for a few moments until she relented with a nod. Then we moved down the alley that ran parallel to the main road until we were back on her street. Jose was still sitting on the side of the road.

Only now I realized that Javier had the car keys.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

“What?”

“I have to hotwire it.”

“So do it.”

I gave her a wry look.

Suddenly the air was filled with a flurry of shouts and Spanish. I looked over at her apartment building and saw a few men on the balcony of one of the apartments, pointing at us and flipping out.

“Do it I shall,” I said. I opened the door (no point in locking it since half the windows were shot out) and ushered Violetta into the backseat, where she could lie down, and then jumped into the front. Even though I’d been driving Jose for most of the last six years, my car-stealing skills were still pretty sharp. After crossing wires for a few seconds, Jose roared to life, his engine loud and proud, and I gunned him out of the parking spot just as a group of men came running out of the apartment for us.

“Persistent,” I grumbled and spun the car around the corner. Despite the circumstances, it felt fucking great to be driving my car again.