The HiT Series

by Margaret McHeyzer

  “Well, you didn’t know who I was,” I cockily answer.

  This time Anna snatches her hands away from mine and sits right back in her seat.

  Why the hell couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut?

  I’m momentarily saved by Austin who sets our appetizers down in front of us.

  His look has morphed into the serious bro language of ‘I’ll come to your funeral, my friend’ and he steps back the moment the food hits the table.

  “Would you like another drink?” he asks. I think he’s hoping we say ‘no’ so he can high-tail it out of here.

  I pull at the collar of my shirt. The tension has intensified the heat in my body. My throat’s completely dry, and I can feel sweat gathering at the nape of my neck. I could use another drink…

  “We’re fine,” Anna answers in a low, monotone voice.

  “I’ll be back soon with your mains,” Austin says before sprinting for a life boat. I hope there’s room on there for me too.

  Anna’s jaw is tense, her eyes have turned cold, and she’s now doing that whole ‘scary ass assassin mode’ thing she does.

  Her chest is completely calm, she’s not hyperventilating, her brows are relaxed and shoulders have lowered.

  I’m in serious fucking trouble.

  But fuck it, we both know I’m right. I’m not her damn lap dog, I’m not going to let her intimidate me.

  I straighten my back, stick out my chin, and hold her dangerous gaze.

  “And you’re proud of that?” she asks, her voice unnaturally calm.

  “Damn right I’m proud of that, Anna,” I reply in a low tone. “Because of that, you know I can hide any secret from anyone. I’ve promised I won’t ever hold anything back from you again, and you know that I’ll go to my death to protect what’s important to me. And you’re the most precious thing in my life now. Claire died because of our business, but I certainly have no intention of losing Emily or you. This whole ‘I’m going to stare you down because I’ll fucking kill you’ is getting old. You didn’t know who I was because I can hide anything from the world, but I’ve chosen not to keep you in the dark any longer.”

  Fuck it, I’ve got nothing to lose. What’s she going to do?

  “Nothing can hurt me more than not having you beside me, so I don’t care what you have to say,” I add.

  “We all have secrets,” Anna says quietly as she leans her elbows on the table and runs a thumb across her lips.

  “Not between us,” I answer, knowing there’s no other skeletons in my closet.

  “There’s nothing left for you to tell me?”

  “Nothing,” I answer honestly.

  “Good, don’t bring it up again.”

  It’s that easy? She’s letting it go, just like that? She’s not saying another word?

  This time, I know enough to shut up and not pursue it any further.

  Maybe she’s letting me win this one, or maybe she finally realizes we’re in this together.

  Anna

  “Are you ready?” I ask Ben as we get ready to leave the ship.

  “Yep,” he answers, holding the door to our suite open for me.

  I attach my Bluetooth and dial Agent.

  “Did you have a relaxing vacation?” Agent asks with too much humor in his voice.

  “Where are we going?” I cut him off.

  “There’s a car waiting for you. It’ll take you to a hangar where a jet’s waiting to bring you back to the mainland. Once you arrive, there’ll be a BMW waiting for you. Regular compartment built outside the car, you know where to look.”

  “What happened with the girls from the whorehouse?” I ask before we leave the room.

  “Two died from overdoses, three had family come forward to claim them, and two went back to whoring. The money was distributed per your request.”

  I touch the Bluetooth again and Ben and I walk, hand in hand, toward the ramp exiting the ship. We tossed our bags overboard on the last leg of the trip, and we’re leaving with just the clothes on our backs and the rest of the money we took from the whorehouse.

  “What happened?” he asks as we leave the ship for our ‘day tour’.

  “Some died, some survived. Some went back to it.”

  “Not everyone has the fight in them you do, Anna. Control is a difficult thing to acquire, even with a sane, healthy mind, let alone being addicted.”

  He’s right. I should consider myself lucky how I’ve been able to build those barriers around me. I’ve protected myself for so long, that it’s almost inconceivable to me how people allow themselves to fall prey to such obvious weaknesses, and not want to fight to make something more of their lives.

  But who am I to judge?

  I kill people, easily.

  For money.

  I do have my own standards, but hey, if you’re going to try and fuck me over, I’ll cut your damn tongue out and shove pipe cleaners in places the sun doesn’t see.

  “Here,” Ben discreetly nods his head toward the black town car waiting for us. The driver is holding up a sign with Ben’s and my fake married name.

  “Good afternoon, no luggage today?” the driver asks and he eyes me cautiously.

  “Wait,” I murmur to Ben and put my hand on his chest, halting his steps toward the car.

  “What’s wrong,” Ben asks.

  “The driver, he spoke,” I say urgently, for his ears alone.

  “I’m sure they all speak,” Ben states, matter-of-factly.

  Something’s not right. Agent has always gotten it right, has never gotten it wrong before. He knows the hired help, like the drivers, don’t talk to me. Period.

  I weave my fingers tightly around Ben’s and sidestep the driver. “We’re just going over the marketplace to get some souvenirs,” I say to the driver. He nods in discreetly and closes the door he opened for us.

  We start out in the direction of the market at a quick pace. We need to get lost and right now.

  I touch the Bluetooth and Agent answers on the first ring.

  “The car at the dock. Did you follow protocol?” I ask as Ben and I walk briskly to get into a highly populated area.

  “I didn’t deviate from it.”

  “We’ve been compromised. How the hell did that happen?”

  “I don’t know. Where are you?”

  I look around to find the street name, “Ala Moana Boulevard,” I answer. “Get us out of here,” I whisper stridently through clenched teeth.

  “What’s happening?” Ben asks as I lead us into a crowd from one of the ships.

  “We’ve been found. We need to get out of here.” We walk past a small store that has a hat stand out front. I swipe two with quick, nimble fingers. “We need a bathroom,” I say to Ben.

  I chance a look over my shoulder and see two burly men closing in on us and start planning our getaway.

  “Is there a car close by, Agent?”

  “ETA two minutes,” he says.

  We’re moving with the crowd, in the middle of it, people darting to and fro, walking slowly, admiring the cute little knick-knacks of the local day market.

  I see a café up ahead. It’s small, from what I can see, but there appears to be a lot of foot traffic going in and out.

  Perfect.

  “Café Rosetta, we’re going out through the back. Get the car to pick us up there.”

  When Ben and I get inside the café, there are people everywhere. We can easily get lost in here without being noticed.

  The waitress is speaking to a group of people. She looks flustered and run off her feet. The people waiting to be seated are getting agitated.

  There’s another waiter picking up plates of food lined up on the pass-through and walking them over to a table.

  I look around and don’t see anyone else serving.

  This is our chance to get out of here.

  I pull Ben toward the kitchen. The moment we enter a chef stops and looks at us sternly.

  “I’m sorry, but the girl in the front said
the bathroom is in the back, I’m not feeling well.” I hold my stomach for extra conviction. “I’m pregnant and I’ve been terribly ill.” Ben plays along by putting his arm around my shoulders.

  “Yes, Ma’am. It’s out the back. Can I get you anything, maybe a glass of water?” the chef asks, now concerned.

  “No. Thank you.”

  Ben and I leave the kitchen, go down the short hall and find two doors. I open the first door, to an office, and there are bars on the windows. The next door is the bathroom, and there’s a tiny window. It’s going to be a struggle to squeeze through there, but there’s really no other option.

  “Take your jeans off,” I say to Ben. I stand on the toilet and open the dirty window and push the ripped screen. It clatters to the alley below.

  “What?” he asks, incredulous.

  “Your jeans. Get them off, so you can squeeze through. We don’t have time for me to explain the laws of physics to you.”

  I pull my body up from the toilet, a difficult task because I’ve lost so much strength from not being able to properly exercise lately. The window is small. I manage to get through, but I know it’s going to be a struggle for Ben.

  He passes his jeans through to me. I look down the alleyway – so far so good.

  “My shoulders aren’t going to fit through,” he says, starting to panic.

  “Get your fucking ass though the window, now,” I hiss, angry that he’s giving up so easily.

  Ben gets his head through, one shoulder out and tries to force the second shoulder through. He’s simply too fucking broad.

  “Stick an arm out with your head, drop your shoulder and get out.”

  Ben lays his head on his extended arm, and starts coming through. His neck is doing things the human body really shouldn’t do. His other shoulder coming through gets caught on the window ledge and rips open.

  “Fuck,” Ben murmurs, obviously in pain.

  A white car approaches and stops just a few feet from me.

  I pull on Ben’s arm and he continues moving through the tiny window. He gets out, though his shoulder is ripped open, and blood is flowing quite freely from the open wound. Without waiting, I position my arm around his waist and start walking him toward the car.

  “Color of the car, Agent?” I ask as we approach it.

  “White,” he answers.

  The back door opens and Ben and I slide in. Ben lays his head on the head rest, and using his jeans, I apply pressure on the wound, trying to staunch the blood flow.

  The car lurches forward, maneuvering around the dumpsters in the alleyway and onto the main street.

  I look behind us to see if anyone is following us, but it’s clear.

  However, as we turn into the street, I do see someone I wasn’t expecting to see.

  Ophelia.

  “Lucky I found you, she would’ve detained you the moment she saw you,” says the strong Russian accent.

  Whipping my eyes away from Ophelia, who hasn’t seen us yet, I look at the driver.

  My old Russian friend. The man I’m important to.

  What the fuck is going on?

  Anna

  “Agent.” My phone is dead. I have no signal. “Agent?” I yell into my Bluetooth. No reply.

  “Phones and tracking devices don’t work inside the car,” Gray-haired Old Man says.

  “What the hell is going on?” I ask, not knowing what answer I’m about to get.

  “There is small medical kit in the back, Anna. Stitch up your boyfriend so he doesn’t bleed out.” He points over his shoulder to a compartment built into the back of the center console. I open it and find a small red plastic pouch. When I unzip it, there’s a basic first aid kit inside.

  I snap the plastic lid off the small tube of saline and pour it on the open wound. Ben flinches slightly, and I can tell he must be in a world of pain. It’s not life threatening; he’s had worse.

  His chest is heaving fast, and his eyes are closed as he concentrates on getting past the pain.

  “Who the hell are you and why are you here?” I ask as I find needle and surgical thread.

  “A simple thank you will do,” Gray-haired Old Man chuckles.

  “I’m not fucking thanking you. I want to know who the hell you are.”

  I thread the needle and pull the edges of Ben’s wound tight together as I make the first puncture into his sensitive skin.

  “What the fuck?” he screams as his eyes fly open and his shoulder jerks back.

  “Stop being a damn pussy and let me stitch you up.”

  “Fuck, Anna, it hurts.”

  “So does a slow painful death; now shut up and let me do this.”

  He grinds his jaw together and snarls. Is he angry with me? Whatever, it has to get done.

  “Where are you taking us?” I ask Gray-haired Old Man. I see a small pair of scissors in the pouch and slip it out so I can kill the mother fucker if he tries to hurt us.

  That really doesn’t make sense. I don’t feel threatened.

  But…

  Best to be prepared.

  “To my hangar to get you back to the mainland.”

  I’m still stitching Ben up, so I can’t stop to smack this guy in the back of the head. Who the hell is he?

  It’s damn infuriating not knowing what the hell is going.

  Maybe I’m not so invincible, after all. This guy has gotten to me twice.

  “Why?” I ask with more fury in my voice.

  Damn it, I need some answers.

  “I told you to call me when you were done with that Katsu character. Speaking of which, did you record the torture? I’m very keen to see what you came up with. I’m sure it’s going to be fun to watch.”

  “Why are you so interested in helping me?”

  “I told you. You and your sister are very important, and I need to make sure you complete the tasks you’ve set out for yourself so we can continue to the reason I need you both.”

  Riddles, damn riddles.

  Aggravating, annoying damn riddles.

  “Which is what reason?” I stab the needle through Ben’s reddened skin too harshly and he hisses in pain. He rests one hand on my thigh and gently squeezes, silently telling me to take it easy.

  “Soon, when you reunite with your sister, I will make it clear.”

  Reunite?

  I know her?

  “Do I know who she is?” I stop stitching the wound as I look to the front at Gray-haired Old Man.

  “Yes, you both know each other.”

  “What?” Ben asks as he opens his eyes and shifts in the seat.

  “What the hell?” I say, angry. I’m going to lose my shit soon.

  I look out the window, and Gray-haired Old Man has gotten us a good distance away from the dock.

  “When we get to the mainland, I’ll explain everything to you. But for now, trust that I will look after you both and hurt won’t come to you,” he says as he opens the throttle, speeding down the road.

  A cold, stark silence fills the car as I put the last stitch into Ben’s arm and tie the thread off.

  The car zooms along, surrounded by luscious, large expanses of greenery. Truly breathtaking scenery, a place where someone could get lost in the sheer magnificence and utter beauty surrounding them.

  I wonder if Ben and I could find our very own piece of heaven like this to hide from the world for a while. Our own paradise, isolated from the world…at least, until we’re found.

  “I’ve kept the men alive, as you instructed. I’m providing them with just enough water and bread so they don’t starve or die of thirst,” Gray-haired Old Man says, snapping me out of my reverie.

  “Have they been touched?” My assassin’s mask slips back on. My brain starts to turn toward the torture I want to inflict upon them.

  “Completely unharmed. They don’t know why we have them or what’s going to happen to them. They’re weakened and have lost a few pounds.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “What are your plans for them, Anna?”<
br />
  Hmmm, a quick death for men who like to hurt children? No. I’ll prolong their demise and make the pain excruciating.

  “I’m not sure,” I say. I do not to want allow him into my mind.

  “I’m sure it will be a good show, whatever you do,” he says in his thick accent. “Now, you rest. I take good care of you.”

  Although everything about this situation screams ‘wrong’, I can’t help but feel it’s going to be okay.

  Maybe even better than okay.

  Anna

  “The men you wanted are in this warehouse,” Gray-haired Old Man says as we approach a deserted factory building.

  The plane ride over to the mainland went by without a hitch. We landed at a private air field and taxied to a private hangar somewhere in the middle of Texas. Now a limousine is taking us to where the pedophiles await me.

  Typically, I’m always in control, I always know everything happening around me, right down to the smallest detail.

  But since being rescued in Sydney, I’m living on the edge of the unknown. From one day to the next, I have no idea what’s going to happen. I don’t think I like it.

  The rigid way I’ve always lived my life, my own personal code that taught me how to breathe, has all become nothing more than a memory lately.

  Now, my existence holds a different meaning. My new world includes Ben, my sister, and Gray-haired Old Man, about whom I know nothing.

  The limo parks directly in front of a nondescript door at the side of a nondescript industrial building.

  The building blends in among the others surrounding it, no distinguishable markings give anyone the impression evil is housed inside.

  But evil is right here.

  Behind the small industrial park, rolling hills of dry grass stretch to the horizon.

  “After you,” Gray-haired Old Man says as he holds the door open.

  Ben pushes me gently aside and goes in first, a gallant gesture, putting himself in the line of fire if this is a trap.

  But I don’t feel like this is anything more than an old, gray-haired man with a thick accent helping me deliver justice.

  And there lies the problem.

  I’m being led around by someone I don’t really know, and I just have to trust him, trust he won’t kill me, in order to take care of business and find my sister.