by Tiya Rayne
“Want to order some pizza and see what the mystery channel has on?”
He stills and stares at me for a moment. Something vulnerable crosses his face. Although I feel like I know Walker, I don’t know him well enough to get a read on that emotion. He replies to my suggestion with a nod. He walks back out of the room, leaving me to ponder his reaction once again.
I’m not sure what my sister was trying to prove when she set all this up. And honestly, now is not the time to try to figure it out. My head is already spinning with everything that has been going on these last few days.
I feel like I’m on a Ferris wheel going around and around. Yes, Walker makes me want things that I know I shouldn’t. I’ve been here before. More times than I want to admit.
They all seem perfect at first like they can understand me and can deal with my shit. Then when things get hard, and the novelty of the girlfriend with emotional issues wears off, they leave. And I’m left brokenhearted.
My sister was the only thing that helped me get over those heartbreaks, but she’s not here anymore. That exploding pain hits me, and the urge to cry takes over me. Once again, I’m hit with that striking feeling of being alone.
“Hey, you coming?” Walker calls out to me from the hallway.
As if she’s standing right behind me, I can almost hear her voice whispering in my ear. “But you’re not alone.”
My head spins. All this has a purpose. I’m not sure exactly what it is, but I think her breadcrumbs are trying to help me find more than just her murderer. “Okay, Albany. I’ll let you lead for now,” I mumble to the room.
“I’m coming,” I call out to Walker before I head into the living room.
Chapter 12
Twins
Brooklyn
Walker and I hung out for most of the night, watching unsolved mysteries and real-life crime shows. It’s refreshing to have someone that loves those channels as much as me. When it was time for bed, I slept in the bedroom and he slept on the pullout couch. I woke up a few times with dreams that I’d rather not talk about. Dreams that left me hot and bothered, all starring a certain hitman.
Today I find myself at a coffee shop with a man that despite being maybe one of the most attractive men in the world, looks downright deadly. Psycho from the alley had crazy eyes. His eyes told you that not all the screws in his head were tightened up.
Walker’s eyes say proceed with caution. They scream I’m normal, but I will fuck you up. This man that I’m sitting across from screams run away immediately. Even though he looks more dangerous than a live grenade, I feel as if I’ve seen him before. I could have sworn he was at my sister’s funeral, but I would remember these eyes.
“It’s been a while, brother. I was hoping I wouldn’t see you again after you left.”
Walker nods at the man with the scary eyes that are in multiple hues of golds and browns and sparkle with mischief.
“Yeah, so did I, but the Church always has a way of bringing you back.” That comment seems to put both men in thoughtful contemplation. “Where’s your twin?” Walker says, drawing my eyes away from the man.
“Somewhere being Lucien. Unfortunately, you only have me.”
Walker only stares back at the man in one of the most dangerous standoffs since the Wild West, I imagine. Crazy eyes laughs and so does Walker.
“Damn, I missed you, Hawk.”
“Same, brother,” Walker replies genuinely.
“Luc is going to hate he missed you, but he sent me. What can I do for you?”
Walker takes the flash drive I gave him and slides it on top of the table over to crazy eyes. Crazy eyes picks it up and a smile pours over his face. I say pour because that’s what the slow rise of his lips reminds me of. The way water falls out of a too-full pitcher to cascade down.
“Ah, little brother has been busy I see. I wondered who shut down the entire Brooklyn public library system and a quarter mile block.”
I cringe when his weird kaleidoscope brown eyes turn to me. Those peculiar orbs look me over, his face keeping that same smile.
This guy is gorgeous. His face is so perfect and symmetrical he could be a sculpture. Disheveled dark brown hair that goes perfectly with his golden bronze skin. He has the type of skin tone that could make him Latin or maybe even Greek.
And those amber eyes make him supermodel gorgeous. However, underneath his handsome façade, I can see the killer that he is. When I think of trained assassins, this is what I envision.
He darts his narrow-tipped tongue out of his mouth to run over his full bottom lip as he watches me.
“Eyes on me, Seth,” Walker says in a low warning tone.
Crazy eyes turns to Walker and that smile brightens. “I never could figure out how you do that.”
“I’ve told you, it’s magic,” Walker replies teasingly.
Seth looks back at me and smiles. “They won’t let you keep her. Although, I can see why you would want to. She looks just like Rose, except for the birthmark and the curves.”
I find myself wanting to cover my body. Why the hell does everyone keep pointing that out?
“Either way,” Seth continues. “They won’t let you keep her. Trust me.”
For the first time, I see something more than evil flitter through his eyes. It almost looks like longing. Just then he turns his head and glances out of the window to the little bookstore, slash coffee shop across the street. It’s the second time he has looked over there.
“She doesn’t want to be kept.”
This time, both me and Seth turn to look at Walker. If he can feel my eyes burning a hole in the side of his face, he doesn’t acknowledge it.
Even though Walker and I have no real relationship and have only known each other for a few days, his words feel like a sharp knife cutting into me. He’s right. My actions up until now have definitely given the impression that I don’t want to be kept.
However, I never said it. All I know is that the moment I start to act like I want to be kept, he’s going to go running for the hills.
Seth looks to me and then back to Walker before laughing. “Priest was right, this is going to be good.”
“How soon can Lucien have this back to me?” Walker says, bringing the conversation back to the reason we’re here.
Crazy eyes, or Seth, leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. His tattooed knuckles stand out against his golden skin. “I don’t know. You know the computer shit is all him. I’m just the tactical part of the team.”
Walker sighs. “Well, how soon can you find him?”
A slow smile spreads over Seth’s face. It looks so fucking deranged that I want to cross myself and I’m not even Catholic. Then the oddest thing happens, he shuts his eyes and then his body shivers like a chill goes through him. When he looks back at us that smirk is still there.
“Not long,” he says in answer to Walker. “I have a feeling he will be looking for me very soon.” I’ve never heard more ominous words in my life.
Even Walker understands the threat behind those words. “What have you done, brother? And how many bodies are there?” Seth laughs as if Walker told a joke, but we both know he didn’t.
He shakes his head. “No bodies, brother, but I may have found something my dear little brother tried to hide from me.”
He turns his head to the window at that little bookstore across the street and this time standing on the curb, writing on the storefront window is a short brown-skinned woman. She has curves like mine, but with a little more padding. Her hair is in a messy bun on top of her head.
She’s wearing skinny jeans, vans, and a T-shirt with a plaid button up around her waist. She turns like maybe she can feel our eyes on her. From the distance, I can’t make out much of her features, but it’s enough to tell she’s a pretty girl.
Her skin is darker than mine, a more milk chocolate complexion. She looks across the street in our general direction, seeming to take in our building. She then turns back around to con
tinue writing her message on the window.
When I turn back to Seth, I realize she’s who he’s waiting for. His eyes are on her like a predator on the prowl. He gets to his feet, placing a few dollars down on the table even though none of us ordered anything.
“I have to go,” he tells Walker. “I’ll deliver your flash drive to my brother along with the hotel number.” Seth starts to walk away but turns back to face us. “Hawk.” Walker looks up at him. “If you change your mind… you already know Luc and I are with you.”
Walker nods and Seth does the same in return before stepping out the door. He cuts straight through traffic heading in the direction of the girl, causing cars to come to a screeching stop.
I don’t know the woman at the bookstore window, but I want to tell her so badly to run.
“Let’s go.” Walker stands and I follow him out of the coffee shop. The moment we step out onto the curb, Walker reaches for my hand, but I pull away. He turns to face me.
“Look,” I say folding my arms over my chest. “What was all that back there?”
He creases his brows as if he’s confused. “I’m going to need a little more context clues.”
I scoff. “Don’t play funny with me, Kilian Walker. All that bullshit about me not wanting to be kept.”
He takes a step closer to me, causing me to tilt my head back to look up at him. “Do you want to be kept, Brooklyn?”
The word yes is so close to slipping out of my mouth. It’s right on the tip of my tongue. I think Walker knows this because he gives me the smuggest and most cunning smile, I’ve seen from him.
“Cat got your tongue?” he teases.
I push my curls behind my ear. “I don’t have a problem with being kept by any man, they usually have a problem with wanting to keep me.” I shrug as if it’s no big deal. Like I didn’t admit to a practical stranger that I’m not good enough for men.
The smug smile drops from his face. He grabs my waist and pulls me into him, my hand resting on his chest. To people walking by this probably looks like an intimate touch between two lovers. You would never guess that we are still practical strangers.
“You haven’t met the right man,” he says the words so effortlessly and with so much promise my breath catches in my throat.
The way he looks down at my lips makes me long for that kiss from the alley. Just thinking about the unexpected kiss has my toes curling in my sneakers. To think, that kiss was spur of the moment. What would a real one feel like? When I think I’m about to find out, he pulls away and swats me on the ass.
“Come on.”
He takes my hand in his again and starts moving us toward the town car.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise. Don’t worry, it will be fun.” He beams at me over his shoulder.
Chapter 13
Guns Blazing
Brooklyn
“We really need to discuss the things you think are fun.”
Walker climbs out of the car behind me and steps up beside me at the gun range. “You will enjoy it.” He laces his fingers in mine and tugs me forward.
“I don’t understand why you’re hell bent on me learning how to shoot a gun.”
He smiles down at me. “It’s a good skill to have. Plus, if we’re ever to get separated again, I want to know that you can handle yourself.”
I turn to glare at him. “I can handle myself just fine. Did Albany ever tell you about the time we were in second grade and that fourth grader pushed her down in the park?”
He laughs. “And you kicked him in the balls so hard he threw up. Yes, Red mentioned that story. And the one about the bully in middle school and the ex-boyfriend at the party.” He stops us at the door and turns to face me. “I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but will you do this for me?”
Damn these flutters. They have me nodding yes without even putting up a fight. The door to the shop swings open and a large man with a weathered face comes out.
“Well, I’ll be. Hawk, what the hell are you doing here? I thought you were retiring down in Florida,” the grizzly bear looking man says with a beaming smile. He gives Walker one of those brief man hugs that require one arm.
“How’re you doing, Clutch?”
“I can’t complain,” the man named Clutch replies before turning his blue eyes to me. “Well, hello, beautiful. Who’s this?” he directs his question to Walker.
Walker slips his hand out of mine and pulls me into his side with an arm around my shoulder.
“This is my wife, Brooklyn Walker.” I cut my eyes to him and then roll them. He has jokes today.
“Hot damn, man, you got married?” Clutch lifts my hand to his lips and places a gentle kiss on the back if it. As big and rough around the edges as he looks, he is sure to be as gentle as possible. He lifts my hand like fine china. “I wish you two all the luck. I hope she’s more like my second wife than my first and third,” the man says, as he releases my hand and winks at me.
“Which one are you on now?” Walker asks the question that runs through my mind.
Clutch shrugs. “The fourth,” he replies nonchalantly. “You guys come on in.”
He steps back holding the door open for us. Walker places a hand at my lower back, ushering me in first. We walk down a long narrow hallway, painted in avocado green.
“So what brings you here today? I know you don’t need any practice,” Clutch says over his shoulder to Walker.
“No, I’m teaching the Misses how to shoot.”
This gets me a huge toothy smile from Clutch.
“Well, right this way,” he says, ushering us into a small rectangular room with wood panel walls.
A glass case runs the perimeter of the room and it’s lined with as many guns as Walker’s freezer room. Clutch walks behind the counter and grabs a ring of keys off a nail on the wall. “Do you want your usual room?”
Walker nods, and once again we walk down a narrow hallway. This one similar to the one we came in through. We go into a back room with stark white walls.
This room is long, the other end feels like a mile away. Clutch goes to a set of lockers, using the keys he opens them up and takes out large headphones and a black gun. The gun looks like the one Walker showed me how to load that day back in his gunroom.
Clutch heads over to us and escorts us into a tight little cubby of a box. There are walls on both sides of me, a short table in front of me and in the distance in front of me there’s a target outline.
“Put these on.” Walker hands me clear goggles. I quickly place them on and push them up the bridge of my nose.
“Y’all have fun,” Clutch says, placing the objects in his hand down in front of me. He then turns and walks away.
“He’s a fun character,” I tease while Walker toys with the gun in his hand. “Is he part of the Church?”
Walker turns to me and lifts a brow. “Why do you ask?”
I shrug. “He called you Hawk. It seems like the ones that know you from the Church call you Hawk.” Except for Albany, she always called him Walker.
He smiles. “No, he’s not part of the Church. He was in the military. Marines. He knows me by Hawk because that’s the name Priest gave him when he brought me to him. Clutch is one of the best snipers in the world. He can hit a mark from fifty feet away with his eyes close. Priest wanted me to learn from the best.” I love the prideful look that fills his eyes at that moment.
“So can you do it? Can you hit a target from that far?”
“What do you think?”
I take a moment to think about what all I know about Walker and what I’ve seen him do. The guy is crazy skilled. He took down a group of military men in pitch dark by himself. I believe he is capable of anything.
I shrug. “I bet you could do it even further.”
His smile rises higher and he winks.
Walker spends close to an hour teaching me how to aim and shoot a gun. By the time we finally leave the range, I could make at le
ast seventy-five percent of my shots. He was right, I did have fun and I feel more confident that I can hold my own with a gun if I ever need to.
Walker, Steven, and I stop and grab ice cream before heading back to the hotel. The entire ride back, Steven feels it’s his duty to tell us all the places we should visit on our honeymoon.
I listen to him go on and on, but Walker seems more than interested. He even asks for directions to some of these places. Hanging with Walker and even Steven feels so comfortable that I start to feel a little guilty when I remind myself how I know these people.
I wouldn’t be in this fancy hotel elevator, heading to my expensive suite if it wasn’t for my sister dying. It almost feels like I’m betraying her. Here I am enjoying ice cream and laughing with her Walker, when she’s dead.
“Where’d you go?” His voice cuts into my thoughts. He’s leaning against the back of the elevator. His head against the wall and his eyes closed.
“Nowhere.”
He opens his eyes and he lifts his head. He studies me, those shrewd eyes reading me. I sigh. I might as well tell him. He’ll probably guess it anyway.
“Does it feel odd that I’m laughing with you while my sister is...” I break off, not wanting to say the word out loud.
“If it were you, would you want her to keep living? Or would you rather her mope around for the rest of her life, mourning for you?”
Obviously, I would want her to be happy. I wouldn’t care how I died or if my case was never solved, I would want Albany to be happy. Still, this feels wrong.
You know why it feels wrong. My thoughts chastise me.
The elevator doors dings open and we both step out. Walker opens the door and steps back, letting me in. I say thank you as I walk past him into the suite. He grabs my hand and stops me at the door, his gaze is locked on mine.
So many unspoken words cross his face. There is something he wants to say to me. Something he wants to tell me. I can tell by the hard set to his jaw and the way his mouth is fixed to speak, but nothing comes out.