Lethal

by Ava Kendrick

  “I don’t know what happened, Kane. But you haven’t.”

  My hand inched down my side; my fingertips now slick with sweat. “Bullshit. You know what happens when someone backs out of a deal with me?”

  He scrunched up his face and sat back against his chair with a loud sigh. “It doesn’t seem like you’re bullshitting,” he muttered. “But you must be.”

  I didn’t engage him. Instead I stared him down, unable to ignore the way his men stood forward and reached behind them slowly.

  “I have… shall we say, a working relationship with her doctor. He’s been monitoring her case for me.” He shook his head. “Dr. Milano. He would have called me immediately if she’d told him.”

  Time slowed to a standstill as three pistols swung through the air and pointed at me. I could almost hear their elbows lock. I practically saw the Soldier’s bullet burst from the barrel and rip through the still air toward me. I saw it in slow motion, but I didn’t have time to get out of the way. Lead sliced into my flesh; the impact throwing me backward. And still the only thing I could think of was her.

  Thirty-Seven

  Cleo

  I glanced at the door, willing it to open. I had barely moved for several hours. The slightest sound was enough to set me off, but this time it was different. I heard a scraping noise outside.

  Gasping, I got to my feet and moved away from the middle of the floor to the wall. Roman’s gun dangled uselessly from my hand—I still wasn’t sure I’d be able to use it if I needed to.

  But I wouldn’t, right? I thought. He was being overcautious when he gave me that money and told me to disappear if he didn’t come back. He had to have been. He can’t…

  I froze when I heard the scraping sound again. It was the door, I realized. Someone was at the door. I backed against the wall and held the gun out in front of me, pointing it straight at the door. The handle turned now; I saw it. Slowly, it pushed open. Inch by inch. I held my breath, waiting. Not wanting to rush to him in case…

  My heart soared as he stepped inside. I cried out and started forward. But his face…

  It was…

  He opened his mouth to speak and I frowned, feeling myself sucked back into a tunnel of fear and dread; like I was sitting on the ceiling watching this, not living it.

  “No,” I hissed, trying to steady my shaking hand.

  Why the hell had he given me a gun? A banana would have been more useful—at least I could have thrown it without fear of it accidentally discharging and hitting me. Not that it would have protected me—I was almost certainly getting shot that night, I knew.

  I swallowed. If he was here, it meant that Roman had told them where I was. And that would only have happened if… I shook my head, overcome by grief at the thought of the life we wouldn’t get to share.

  Pull yourself together.

  I squeezed my finger on the trigger as he stepped inside the door, opening his mouth to speak.

  “Don’t move. Get your hands away,” I screamed, trying to keep the panic from my voice although he probably knew I was terrified.

  He stopped moving. “Cleo.”

  Do it for Roman, I urged myself. My hand was still shaking too hard. I knew I needed to get him on the first shot. It was my first time using a gun and I didn’t have the luxury of a second try.

  “I said stay back,” I screamed.

  “Calm down,” he whispered, holding his hand up. “Cleo. I’m his brother.”

  That threw me. “What?”

  He took a step closer, his hand still out. “I’m Roman’s brother. Ivan.”

  I froze. I’d seen the resemblance straight away—it was undeniable. That’s why I had almost run to this stranger. But what if… I couldn’t afford to trust him, not when we were in this much danger.

  “He told me he’d come back for me,” I hissed, almost hysterically, realizing what it meant. If it was his brother, if it wasn’t—either way…

  He crossed the room. My eyes were blinded by tears now. Within seconds, he’d pulled the gun out of my heavy arm and pulled me to him, clasping me tight.

  “Listen to me, Cleo,” he murmured. “You’re safe now.”

  I shook my head. “No. Roman. You have to help him.”

  He paused. Hope drained out of me as the seconds of silence ticked past. I’d held onto that slight sliver of optimism that maybe he was okay; that he just got held up. But the look on his brother’s face told me otherwise.

  “He’s…” I whispered, not even able to say what I was thinking.

  “He’s lost a lot of blood.”

  I frowned, pins and needles prickling my skin. Then a shiver ran through me. “What?” I looked up at him hopefully.

  Up close there was no mistaking the resemblance. He was Roman’s brother alright.

  “He’s alive?”

  He nodded.

  I laughed, water and saliva shooting down my face. I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything else in that moment. “Why the fuck didn’t you say?”

  “I didn’t have time. I needed to get to you before you shot me.” He grasped me tighter. “He’s not out of danger yet. Come on. I’ll take you to the hospital.”

  “Wait,” I gripped his arm, wide-eyed. “The hospital?”

  His cautious eyes appraised me. Then he nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Mercy Hospital.”

  “But…” I dragged my heels, not allowing him to pull me to the door. “Is he in trouble?”

  He watched me silently for a long time. “You know what my brother is?”

  I shrugged. “It’s kinda new to me.”

  “Yeah well.” He sighed deeply. “Whatever else he is, he’s my brother.”

  Thirty-Eight

  Cleo

  I stared in horror at the tubes sticking out of his sides. Ivan had given me a rundown of his injuries in the car on the way over. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, and the doctors had warned Ivan not to get his hopes up.

  Even with that information, nothing could have prepared me for the sight of him lying there helpless in the hospital bed. The parts of his skin that weren’t covered in tubes were covered with thick layers of gauze. I’d told myself all the way along the corridor to the ICU ward that I needed to keep it together. But I couldn’t. Tears welled in my eyes. I looked away.

  “Hey,” he rasped.

  I glanced down at him. I wouldn’t have believed it was his voice if I hadn’t seen his lips move.

  “Hey,” I smiled through my tears.

  We had a lot to talk about; decisions to make. But now wasn’t the time for that. Even after everything I’d found out about him, all I wanted was for him to be okay. I couldn’t even think about…

  “Are you okay?” he asked, squinting up at me through swollen, purple eyes.

  I nodded, tears welling in my eyes again. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?”

  He smiled; it quickly turned into a grimace and my stomach churned at the thought of how much pain he must be in.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  I glanced back at Ivan, raising my eyebrows. He shook his head, his mouth set in a line.

  “Ya know, I’d believe him. He’s resilient, this one.” He reached over and patted his brother’s blanketed legs.

  I frowned. Their relationship seemed like a strange one. It was obvious that Ivan adored his brother, but there was an edge to his voice.

  “I hope so,” I said, turning back to Roman and gently squeezing the callused skin at the edge of his palm.

  His eyes widened then; his face grew serious. “Cleo.”

  I nodded. “I’m here. Relax. Please. Don’t try to talk too much. You’re safe.”

  My heart raced. I’d asked Ivan about Ben in the car, but he didn’t seem to know anything about it.

  “He’s gone, Cleo,” Roman wheezed. “He’s—”

  “Roman,” Ivan said sharply.

  I spun around and glared at him. “He’s lying in a hospital bed; his life is in the balance. Why t
he hell would you snap at him like that?”

  I knew I shouldn’t have said anything, but it wasn’t like I’d been able to stop the words from coming out. Ivan didn’t react—he just shook his head.

  “I’m a cop,” he said simply.

  My mouth fell open as I turned back to Roman. I remembered now. It hadn’t seemed so important when I’d thought Roman was an insurance salesman. But now it all made sense.

  “It doesn’t matter, man,” Roman murmured. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Ivan leaned over him. “Yes it fucking does. I don’t know what kinda pain meds they’ve got hooked into you, but it’s making you chatty. Don’t put me in this position.”

  I looked from one to the other, not quite believing what I was hearing. Usually, I would have been more inquisitive, but right then I could only concentrate on praying Roman would get better.

  “Ivan said you’re not in pain,” I said quickly.

  Roman nodded. “Yeah. They’ve got me on about twenty different meds. They say it’s touch and go, but whatever.” He shrugged slightly, wincing as he did so. “I reckon they’ve got it wrong.”

  I pursed my lips, not wanting to be negative. But I believed the word of a trained doctor over that of a heavily-drugged hitman any day, even if I wanted more than anything in the world for him to get better.

  “Cleo,” he whispered, gripping my hand in his and squinting up at me.

  My heart flipped over. “Yeah.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered. “You’re… You’re what kept me going when another two men rushed in and I thought I was—”

  “Roman,” Ivan barked. “Would you please shut the fuck up?”

  I turned back to face him almost laughing at the absurdity of their situation. I wondered how much Ivan knew of his brother’s true life. He must have known enough if he kept censoring the conversation like that.

  “Hey Ivan,” Roman said calmly.

  “What?”

  “It’s great to see you, it really is. But do you think…?” he jerked his head toward me.

  Ivan patted the bed and left the room without saying another word.

  “I thought you didn’t see your brother much?” I asked, as soon as the door closed and we were alone.

  Roman tried to nod but then thought better of it. “We haven’t seen much of each other these past years. Cleo. I’m so glad you came. I…”

  “Because of what you do?”

  I can’t have the other conversation. I can’t. Not now.

  A sad look flitted through his eyes, like he knew I was avoiding the subject. I couldn’t help it. He wasn’t in the right state to hear what I had to say.

  “You heard him. He’s a cop.”

  I nodded. “Can’t have been an easy conversation over Thanksgiving dinner.”

  He laughed, immediately groaning and clutching his side. “No. Not exactly. When I left the military, he thought I’d join the force. Instead…”

  “He knows?”

  “Some of it. Yeah. I try to keep him out of it. Wouldn’t want the guy conflicted. Well…”

  I glanced at the door. “He is now?”

  He smiled sadly. “I had no choice. I wasn’t sure how things were gonna go down with the Soldier. I thought I’d get away with creating a decoy—”

  “A decoy?”

  “Yeah. That’s where Ivan came in. I thought if he could find a female body and convince Julia to identify it, we’d be able to get away.”

  I frowned. “How the hell?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t have a lot of time. I don’t usually operate on the fly.”

  I shook my head, feeling sick to my stomach. “You’re talking about someone else’s body. What, taking it to my apartment and arranging it—”

  “No,” he wheezed. “No. Julia would have identified it in the morgue and made a fake police report so the Soldier’s guys would’ve pulled it and confirmed your death. I tried to stall him for long enough to set it up, but it didn’t go to plan.”

  “Oh.”

  He didn’t respond. A strange look crossed his face.

  “What?”

  “He’s…” he shook his head. “I hadn’t planned to kill him. I would never have involved Ivan if that was my goal. Things changed.”

  I leaned forward. “Is he going to get in trouble for this?”

  Roman shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I just didn’t want him to see this side of me. I mean, he had his suspicions. But this is different. I ask him to fake up a death report for Ben Knight’s ex-girlfriend, and then hours later he and five of his men turn up dead?”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Hearing it confirmed like that was too much; too overwhelming on a day where I’d already had a lifetime’s worth of shock and fear. When I opened them, Roman was watching me, his eyes full of sadness.

  “I don’t blame you for what you did,” I said softly, unable to tolerate seeing him in pain. I meant it too—if it wasn’t for him, I’d be lying in a coroner’s office for real right then. He’d literally taken a bullet for me—several in fact.

  He squeezed my hand and started to say something.

  My heart wrenched. I knew we couldn’t avoid the topic forever, but I didn’t want to face it; not yet. Not while he was still lying in a hospital bed.

  “I’m sorry I lied to you,” he whispered.

  “Thank you for saving my life. I’ll never forget that.”

  I leaned over and kissed his forehead. I choked back the urge to tell him how I felt; to let the strange mix of emotions come flooding out of my mouth. It wouldn’t have mattered if I had—his eyes had fluttered closed and his breathing was steady, albeit helped by machines.

  Thirty-Nine

  Roman

  One Week Later

  Cleo held the door open as Ivan led me into my apartment. I still felt like crap, but I felt a smug sense of satisfaction that I hadn’t let them kill me. Hadn’t exactly made me stronger either, but there I was. And Cleo was unharmed, which was the most important thing in the world to me.

  Things had been strange between us ever since the afternoon when I turned up at Julia’s door. We’d had so many halting conversations; so many words were left unsaid. I’d stopped trying to bring up the subject of ‘us’—I’d seen how much pain it caused her.

  She was alive; I tried to console myself with that fact.

  Ivan led me to the couch and eased me onto it.

  “Jesus, man. How can you live like this?”

  Cleo nodded. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

  “What?” I protested. “It’s clean and comfortable. You know how much rent I pay a month?”

  He shook his head, seeming like he was going to say something. But he didn’t.

  “What is it?” I asked. I couldn’t stand to see my older brother look at me like that.

  “Nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing. I know you. You’re dying to say something.”

  He started toward the door and then stopped in his tracks, changing direction and coming back to flop on the seat beside me.

  “What happened to you, Roman? You had it all. You could have had a great career in the force. Instead…” he gestured around the apartment.

  I bristled. “So I don’t like soft furnishings? Who gives a fuck?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I’m not talking about goddamn ornaments.”

  I closed my eyes and lay back against the couch. “It’s complicated. You don’t understand. You can’t.”

  He leaned forward, hands dangling between his legs. “Don’t I? You think I don’t see this shit every day? You’re a stereotype is what you are.”

  “Not now, man,” I grunted.

  He shook his head. “When, then? I don’t want it to be like the past ten years.”

  “Me neither.”

  He glanced over at Cleo who was pretending not to listen. “Well then. You know what you need to do.”

  I sighed, leaning back against t
he couch and running my hands through my hair. They’d shaved it tight at the hospital. I still couldn’t get used to the bristly stubble against my fingers.

  “Hey, at least I look the part now,” I said with a smirk.

  Ivan shook his head disapprovingly. “Seriously? You gonna joke about that?”

  “Naw man, I just… What are you expecting here? I learn the error of my ways and try to redeem myself? Maybe go work at an animal charity and help small kids cross the street? No. I am what I am. Nothing’s changed.”

  I looked from one to the other and realized I’d gone too far. Ivan looked even sterner than he had before. And Cleo… Her face had crumpled.

  “I didn’t mean…”

  She’d bolted for the door before I could finish.

  Forty

  Cleo

  I stopped at the door cautiously, like I always did now. Ben may have been dead—and I hadn’t just taken Roman’s word for it, it had been all over the morning papers. It seemed I wasn’t the only who hadn’t known of his true identity—no one in the city seemed to have known of Jimmy Rosen’s secret son. No one that wasn’t involved in the criminal underworld at least. Well, the secret was out there now.

  I wasn’t expecting anyone—Julia would have been in work and I certainly wasn’t expecting to see Roman. I hadn’t seen him since I’d stormed out of his apartment two days before. Even though I craved his touch, I’d forced myself to ignore his calls. It was for the best. I’d been an unwitting gangster’s moll—I wasn’t going to begin a new chapter as the hitman’s… whatever. I didn’t know the terminology and I didn’t want to.

  I’d deflated like a balloon that day when he’d ridiculed his brother’s suggestion that maybe he should consider going straight. If he’d been willing to leave his past behind; I don’t know, maybe I was being naïve, but I thought that was something we’d be able to work through. Dating a hitman; never knowing if that was blood or pasta sauce on his shirt? No. That wasn’t for me.