Best Laid Plans

by Stylo Fantome

“I told you to wait inside.”

  Lily actually shrieked, leaping sideways out of her seat. She fell off the stairs, landing in a heap on the sand. Marc had come from behind the cabin, melting out of the shrubs and bushes, materializing next to her.

  “You almost gave me a fucking heart attack!” she yelled at him, throwing a rock at his head. He ducked out of the way.

  “Well, you should’ve waited inside. C’mon, we gotta move,” he replied, holding a hand out. She grabbed it and he yanked her to her feet.

  The cabins they’d stayed in were at the edge of the city – they’d essentially walked through the whole town to get to them. Now they backtracked, heading towards where they’d entered the town. They didn’t quite sneak around, but they did hurry through the streets.

  It didn’t take very long, Tarfaya was a small town. Pretty soon they were hurrying along the edge of a highway, Lily almost having to jog to keep up with Marc’s stride. When they got to a large warehouse, Marc veered off course, cutting across the sand. Lily hesitated for a second, remembering the moment yesterday, when she’d almost been introduced to a field of land mines. But Marc wouldn’t blindly stride across hostile ground, so she followed in his foot steps.

  When they came around the building, she was surprised to see two vehicles. One was a 1980s Buick, and the other was a shiny new looking Toyota Rav. Kingsley stood between them, adjusting his tie, not noticing their approach. She smiled to herself. It was the same suit he’d been wearing since the day before, the suit he’d walked in for hours on end, but it looked crisp and clean and sharp. Just like him.

  “Why did you get two cars? Is Kingsley heading back?” Lily asked. Hearing his name, the other man looked up and smiled, making his way towards them.

  “Looking good, darling. As always,” he told her, leaning close and kissing her on the cheek.

  “Liar,” she laughed, smoothing her hands over her dusty leggings.

  “I haven’t known you long, Ms. Lily, but I have a feeling I will miss you a great deal,” he sighed.

  “You could come with us,” she suggested.

  “Us?” he seemed confused.

  “Yeah. Whatever Marc said, it’s a lie, you should come with us,” she figured Marc’s rude attitude had scared the British man away. Kingsley started scowling.

  “You didn’t tell her? All that time,” he growled.

  Wait … what?

  “Jesus, Law,” Marc growled right back.

  “Tell me what?” Lily demanded.

  Both men were silent and still for a minute, and that just about scared her more than anything. Kingsley was always running his mouth, and Marc was always moving. Something bad had been decided.

  “Darling,” Kingsley finally sighed, stepping forward. “It has been a pleasure spending these last couple days with you. Sorry for strangling you a bit, though I must admit, I kind of enjoyed it. Maybe we can do it again sometime. But for now, De Sant here has decided it’s best if we go our separate ways.”

  Lily turned towards Marc, narrowing her eyes.

  “I was going to tell you,” he offered.

  “Oh? When? After we were in separate cars?”

  “No, just till you were out of hitting range. And kicking.”

  “Really manly, Marc,” she made her voice snide. “After everything we’ve been through, you didn’t even have the balls to just say ‘hey, I’m out’!?”

  This moment was going to happen sooner or later, Lily knew that, but it still hurt. And the way he’d gone about it hurt even more. Wanted or not, she had forged a bond with this man. A connection. Something that was tangible and real to her, as if that chain was still around her waist, linking her to him. Binding her to him.

  And there he was, just able to walk away, with barely an explanation. Barely a goodbye.

  Fuck that. You don’t get off that easy, De Sant.

  “I wasn’t just going to leave you in the desert, Lily, calm down. I just didn’t want to start the morning with, ‘you’re on your own’, alright?” he snapped.

  “You owe me more than this, and you know it,” Lily said in a low, even voice. He snorted at her.

  “I don’t owe you shit.”

  “Asshole.”

  Without even thinking, Lily snapped her hand out, slapping him across the face.

  “You hit like a girl,” he taunted her.

  Her fist was closed for the next hit.

  “Why’d you have to make it like this!?” she yelled at him. “It didn’t have to be like this! You could’ve just said goodbye!”

  “How would you rather this go, Lily!? Two days from now, in Tangier? Would that make it easier!?” he was yelling back, a vein throbbing in the side of his neck as he glared down at her.

  “No. I don’t know. But I guess I always figured that whenever it was gonna happen, you would’ve handled it like a man. My mistake, I forgot I was dealing with a bitch,” she called him out.

  “Well, sweetheart, as they say, it takes one to know one, and you are by far the biggest bitch I have ever met.”

  She hit him again.

  “Keep calling me names, Marcelle,” she threatened.

  “This doesn’t have to be like this,” he stated.

  “You made it like this. You could’ve just said goodbye. After everything. Everything. And you had to wait for Kingsley to say it. You’re not a man. You’re a coward. You think being a mercenary makes you a man? Killing people makes you a man? No. You hide behind those things because you’re not brave enough to walk with real people. A fucking coward,” she hissed.

  Marc’s hand was suddenly around her throat, and for a moment, she was completely stunned. He was able to back her up against the Buick while her mind reeled. He hadn’t touched her in an aggressive manner since before the boarding house, in Mali. She’d almost forgotten that he could be rough with her.

  “Watch your fucking mouth,” he growled, leaning down close to her. “You think I’m a coward? I have carried you this far. I killed people for you. I saved your life on multiple occasions. Does all that sound cowardly?”

  “Carried me!?” she practically squealed. “Okay, FIRST OF ALL, I wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for you. Second of all, you didn’t need to kill anyone ‘for me’, you brought that all on yourself. And third of all, I didn’t ask you to save my life. I don’t need you to save my life. I don’t want you in my life.”

  Liar.

  “Do you honestly mean that?” he asked, his voice steely as his fingers squeezed tighter. She had her hands wrapped around his wrist, and she tugged at it.

  “Did I fucking stutter? There is nothing you’ve done for me that I couldn’t have done for myself, all you do is fuck things up, for everyone. For everything. Drag me out here. Dragged Kingsley into it. How many other people are going to have to die for your fuck ups, De Sant!?” she yelled at him.

  “Possibly just one more,” he threatened, glaring down at her.

  “You don’t have the balls.”

  “Oh, I’m sure I do.”

  “And you sure as shit don’t have the talent.”

  “Question my abilities one more fucking time, Lily, and I -”

  Enough.

  Lily shot her arm out, driving the heel of her palm straight into his nose. He was completely caught off guard and let out a shout, backing away from her as his hands flew to his face. She took the opportunity to elbow him in the stomach, and when he bent over, she kicked him in the hip, sending him to the ground. From behind her, Kingsley started clapping.

  “Does that count as questioning you!?” she shrieked at him.

  Suddenly, her legs were kicked out from under her and she went straight down on her back. She didn’t hesitate, she immediately rolled to the side and began scrambling to get under the Rav. But Marc grabbed a hold of her legs and with one sharp yank, he pulled her to him, flipping her over at the same time.

  “Calm the fuck down!” he was shouting at her as he straddled her hips.

 
“You calm down! Everything we’ve fucking been through, and you were just gonna shove me in a car and that was it!? Get fucked, De Sant!” she screamed at him. He fought to get a hold of her wrists, pinning them to sand by her head.

  “That’s not it!” he roared, and she finally stopped yelling, though she did continue to try to break free from him. “You think this is fucking easy for me!? It’s fucking not. But I know it’s for the best, I know it’s what’s safest for you, and I know it’s the right thing to do. So if that makes me a fucking coward, then fine, I’m a fucking coward. But I also know when it’s time to do something right.”

  It was hard to argue with that logic. She wouldn’t have thought it possible for Marc to say something so sweet. Well, almost sweet. She laid still, staring at the blue sky over his shoulder. Fought to get control of her breathing.

  “It doesn’t feel right,” she whispered. He sighed.

  “I know, sweetheart. I know. But it is. Look, this had to end some time. We’re not on vacation here. I don’t want to prolong the inevitable, and I don’t want to make things worse for you,” he explained in a soft voice.

  “Wish you would’ve made that decision a week ago,” she even managed to laugh, but still refused to look at him.

  “Me, too.”

  That just made her feel worse.

  “So you’re just sending me out to the wolves?” she asked.

  “No, I left you something,” he replied, leaning away from her and gesturing to the Buick. “I left you my pack. It has all our water, some money, the diamonds, even your precious Glock.”

  “You remembered,” she whispered again, smiling.

  “I remembered.”

  He backed off her then, dusting his pants off as he stood. She glanced over to see Kingsley leaning in the backseat of the Rav, very clearly pretending not to notice the heavy moment that was occurring. Then Marc grabbed her arm, hauling her to her feet and dusting her off, as well.

  “So this is it,” she sighed, finally looking at him again. If she hadn’t known any better, she would’ve thought that he looked upset. Maybe even pained.

  “Take care of yourself,” his voice suddenly turned serious, and he stepped up close, his shadow falling over her.

  “Always do,” she assured him.

  “I’m serious. You hesitate – don’t. You overthink – go with your gut. Say whatever you have to, do whatever you can, to convince Ivanov that you’re telling the truth. And when you get to Moscow, pull the trigger.”

  She decided to take his advice and she didn’t think about it, just pressed her hand flat against his chest. Right over his heart. His own hand covered hers, squeezing her fingers, and he glared down at her. She’d forgotten how blue his eyes looked, set against his tan skin. How intense they looked, staring into her soul.

  “I will,” she whispered.

  He stared at her for a second longer, squeezed her fingers even harder, then he nodded and walked away. Just dropped her hand and turned around.

  “Is that it!?” Kingsley exclaimed, watching as Marc got into the driver’s seat of the Rav.

  “Let’s go! The lady’s on a deadline!” he yelled back.

  “Bloody hell. Fuck that, that’s no way to say goodbye,” Kingsley grumbled, then slammed the back door shut. Lily laughed as he walked towards her.

  “I’ll miss you, too, Mr. Law, even if -”

  She was cut off as he grabbed her around the waist and dipped her, pressing his lips against her own. It was actually very chaste, no tongue, but his arms squeezed her tight and held her flush against him. She squealed and laughed against his mouth, pushing at his shoulders till he let her up.

  “Let’s go!” Marc was shouting, banging on the roof of his car.

  “Couldn’t resist, darling,” Kingsley said, giving her a wink before pulling her into a much more platonic embrace. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

  “I know we don’t know each other well, but I’ll miss you, too,” she was honest. He held her tighter and she felt his breath hot against her neck.

  “Anytime you need anything, I’m here.”

  Before she could question what he meant, or even how he expected her to be able to get a hold of him, he pulled away. Straightened out his jacket as he climbed into the Rav.

  And then there was one.

  “Take care of each other!” she called out, watching as their car started to roll forward. Marc stared at her for a second, then looked away as he turned the wheel.

  Don’t panic. Don’t cry. Don’t say anything. You were alone seven days ago. You were alone for five years. You’ve always been alone. You can do this. You don’t need him. He obviously doesn’t care that much about you. You don’t care about him. You don’t need him.

  Lily took a deep breath. She couldn’t bear to watch them drive away, so she turned to the Buick and opened the back door. Leaned in and grabbed Marc’s pack, unzipping it and digging through the items. She took the Glock out and put it in the front seat. Took another deep breath. Grabbed a bottle of water and set it next to the Glock. Took a shakier breath and grabbed the bag of diamonds. Before she could pull them out, though, there was a noise behind her that caused her to pause. Someone grabbed her arm and yanked her around, and before she could say anything, Marc was kissing her, pressing her against the car.

  Thank god.

  His hands cupped either side of her neck and she moaned, scratching her nails down his biceps before holding onto his forearms. His kiss was just like the man behind it; blunt, forceful, and breathtaking. All her breaths, all her air.

  “He’s right, that was a shitty goodbye,” Marc panted when he finally pulled his lips away. His hands stayed on her neck, his thumbs pointing underneath her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

  “It really was,” she agreed. He kissed her again, and she gasped around his tongue. Moved her hands to the front of his waist, gripping onto his belt and holding him tight against her.

  “I don’t want to go,” he told her, pressing his forehead against hers. “But it’s for the best, I promise.”

  She could’ve wept. Listening to him say things she needed to hear. It was so much. It was everything.

  “I want you to stay,” she said back, though she knew it was useless.

  “You hated me a week ago,” he read her thoughts from earlier.

  “You were awful a week ago. You’re nicer now,” she joked, though her voice was shaky.

  “No, I’m just better at hiding it from you,” he assured her.

  “You’re a lot better in bed now,” she switched tactics. He burst out laughing.

  “I was fucking amazing that first time,” he argued. She laughed as well, but it felt too much like crying, so she stopped.

  “You really were. I would’ve killed you a long time ago, if it hadn’t been for your amazing prowess in the bedroom,” she told him.

  “Not the first time I’ve heard that.”

  “When did we turn into this?” Lily whispered. He sighed.

  “I don’t know. I certainly didn’t plan on this happening,” he whispered back.

  They kissed one more time. Said goodbyes. Kissed again. He told her again to take care of herself. Then another kiss.

  “I meant every word I said to you. I’ll miss these eyes,” he told her, brushing his thumb down her cheek as he finally stepped away. She snorted.

  “I give you one week before you’re saying that same thing to some blue eyed beauty,” she called him out. He shook his head.

  “No. Only you. Only your eyes.”

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat.

  “I learned a lot from you Marc. Thank you, really. For everything,” she was completely honest.

  “Same here, sweetheart. Thank you.”

  This time he didn’t get in his car. Just stood back and waited while she got in her car. She turned the engine and stared at the dash for a minute. Then stared at him. Finally, she hit the gas, blowing a kiss as she peeled out of the sandy l
ot where they were parked. She roared off down the road, heading back towards Tarfaya at a break neck pace.

  And she didn’t look back. Not even once.

  Liliana Brewster doesn’t look back. Only forward.

  DAY SEVEN

  She could’ve made it to Tangier in one long push, it was only about fifteen hours away. But she stopped short, deciding to stay in Casablanca. She’d been racing for Tangier the whole time, and now that it was right in front of her, she was hesitating.

  Never hesitate.

  Lily made the call to Ivanov. She stole an old cell phone, and after finding the necessary cables in a tiny pawn shop, she was able to patch the phone through a call box behind an old house on the outskirts of the city. She didn’t mind if he knew she was in Casablanca, but she didn’t need him knowing her exact location.

  She told him the story Marc had fed her. The one she had rehearsed for the entire eleven hour drive to Casablanca. Marc had kidnapped her. Marc had kept her hostage. Marc had dragged her across Africa, looking for a buyer for the diamonds. It was only through her own cunning that she had managed to escape him and made her way to Morocco with all the diamonds in tow.

  “De Sant is dead?”

  Again, she hesitated. Marc’s new plan was to just vanish. Leave Africa, and never look back. He never had to work with that particular Bratva again, or any others for that matter. He was freelance, he could do whatever he wanted. Become whoever he wanted.

  But still … she worried about revenge. About retribution.

  “Yes,” she answered. Explained that an assassin had shown up in Dakhla. Had killed Marc while she’d been making her escape with the stones.

  She didn’t know if Ivanov necessarily believed her, but he didn’t really have a choice. She had millions of dollars worth of his diamonds. Stankovski’s diamonds. It was too big a risk. He gave her the name of a hotel in Tangier and told her to stay there for three days while he sent her new bribe money and arranged for her to catch another ferry.

  Days, days, days. My life is one long string of days, connected by sand and bad memories.

  She checked into a hotel in Casablanca. It was cheap and had no air conditioning. She checked the floor to make sure no one was watching, no one was peeking out windows, then she locked herself in her room and blocked the door with a heavy dresser. Checked all the windows and made sure they were locked and the blinds tightly drawn.