And I'd do it again, a thousand times over. Like I said, I'd die for him.
I meant that.
“I don't make deals with men who break their word, Gilleon. You know that.” I'm staring at Karl's side, his face in profile, his gun in his hand. Behind me, someone shifts. There are people everywhere here, aren't there? Of course there are. Otherwise Gill would've shot Karl in the head the moment we walked in the door.
I suck in another shuddering breath, the gun under my dress burning my flesh, like the metal's molten and searing my skin. I know it's all in my head, but I can't shake the urge to reach down and brush it away. But no. No. Maxine left the revolver there for a reason.
“Karl, listen to me,” Gill begins, his voice stretched and tense with pain. I feel the beginnings of panic creeping up in my chest, but I blink them away. Things could be worse: Gill could be dead. He will be if I don't do something about it. I want to believe that he's still got a plan—and that this is all part of it—but I can't count on it.
“Maxine,” Karl begins, turning to look at his ex. She's sitting there with her legs crossed, her designer shoe bumping rhythmically as she slathers another piece of bread with goat cheese, like Gill's blood isn't splattered across her floor, like the smell of gunpowder isn't burning our nostrils. “I'll take Gilleon—and the girl.” He gestures loosely at me, like I'm nothing more than an object to be bartered. “And you can keep Aveline.” His lips curl. “And the diamonds. Consider them a belated alimony payment.”
The sound of a car pulling up outside gives everyone pause.
“Who the hell is that?” Maxine snaps, sending Kayla scurrying towards the door. A few seconds later, it's swinging wide and Aveline is standing in the doorway, breathing hard, dressed in a fresh set of clothes. Her eyes are practically swollen shut and she's leaning on Ewan for support, but she's here.
I struggle to sit up, the organza of my gown crinkling and drawing Karl's eyes back to me. He disregards me as useless and turns his attention back to his daughter.
“What are doing here?” Maxine asks, sounding genuinely perplexed. I bet it's hard to pull one off on this woman. Behind Aveline, there are two men I've never seen before. Without batting an eye, she turns and puts a bullet in one of their heads.
Gill shoves up from the floor, using the moment of surprise to pull away from the man holding onto his shoulders, swinging around and hitting him so hard in the face that I hear a distinct cracking sound before he turns his attention back to Karl.
I don't have time to think or debate or wonder how my morality might suffer. Gill is mine, and he's in trouble, so I'll do what I have to do. I lean over, grunting at the pain and flopping forward like a rag doll, my body screaming in protest at the motion. I dig my fingers under my skirt, shoving the fabric up my thighs with no attention to modesty, exposing my black lace panties and the gleaming silver of the revolver.
Behind me, Karl's man shifts, a gun in his hand, the muzzle pointed not at me but at Gilleon. I see him get a shot off before I manage to raise my own up and point it at his chest. He might have body armor, my thoughts scream, so I adjust my grip just in time for him to notice me. We both shift our aim and fire. His bullet hits me in the shoulder, knocking me back from the chair again, sending my body towards the floor with a spray of blood. As I tumble back, I hear another sound, like an overfilled grocery sack slamming into the pavement. I got him. Maybe. Hopefully.
I feel like my arm's on fire for a second, but just a second, and then the pain fades away. Still, psychologically speaking, I feel fucked up. Just the idea that I've been shot scares the hell out of me and a scream rips from my throat as soon as I make contact with the ground. The initial impact of the shot is the worst part though, wrenching my shoulder back before the cement pushes it forward again.
Even with all of this happening, with the pain, the shots, the blood, there's only one thing on my mind.
Gilleon.
Gilleon.
Gilleon.
Please be okay, Gill.
My vision swirls as I listen to the sounds of gunfire, struggling to sit up, my left arm moving more slowly than I want it to.
I look around for my revolver for a while before I realize I still have it clutched in my right hand.
“Holy shit.” I blink stupidly at the gun as my head throbs and my ears ring from the noise. Once again, that strange, white calm of shock rolls over me, taking the place of fear and anxiety and confusion.
I lean forward, gasping at the pain in my stomach, the bruising under my vest hurting worse than the gunshot wound in my shoulder. Right now, I can barely even feel it.
I yank myself up, stumbling a little in my silver Louboutin peep-toes.
Gill's there in an instant, his arm curving around my waist, pulling me against him.
I glance up, trying to take in his facial expression, but all I see is darkness, swirling around him like a cloud.
“You're okay, Gilleon,” I say, my voice a little slurry. “We're okay.”
His gaze snaps down to me for an instant before he lifts up his Walther PPQ .22, the same gun he used at the hotel. Is it weird that I recognize it? It is, isn't it? I glance down at the revolver in my own hand and wonder absently why I can't name the brand on this baby.
“Regi, honey, you're in shock,” Gill says, dragging me backwards, pushing me into a corner around the edge of the decorative archway. “Just sit down, ma belle petite fleur. Sit right here and don't move.”
But I don't sit. I don't want to sit.
What am I even doing here?
I stare at my gun again and then glance up in time to see a woman appear from the kitchen. It's Kayla. I raise my weapon to shoot at her, but Gill grabs my arm and forces it down.
“No, she's on our side, baby. Our side.”
Gill steps away from me and takes aim through the archway, pulling off three shots before he moves back again. Kayla joins him, her shy smile gone and a strange, eerie cold taking its place. Ugh. Would not want to get on her bad side.
I stumble against the wall, smearing blood against it as I push back the curtains and look out the window. The yard here is huge, sprawling grounds dotted with perfectly round bushes and trees dripping wet with rain. It's from the corner of my eye that I see someone running, sprinting through the back like their life depends on it. Hell, maybe it does?
I crack the window and sit down, reaching down to yank off my shoes. Gill looks back at me, but only for an instant. He's more concerned with watching both our front and our back, taking turns with Kayla as they keep their guns up and level with the action.
Me, I just reach up and touch my fingers to the wetness on my arm. Redness smears across my skin as I rub the warm red liquid together. Shit, Katriane's never going to believe this one. And Leilani is going to kill me when she finds out about this.
Standing up from my seat isn't easy, not even with the cool moist breeze leaking in the window behind me. What it does do, however, is help to clear my head a little, push back the fog.
“Gill, what do I do?” I ask, unable to keep my voice from wavering. His lips are tight, expression grim as he takes a step back. When he looks at me, I can see how scared he is written into every line of his face. We might get out of this one, he tells me without words. But we won't be so lucky next time. And there will be a next time, won't there? As long as Karl's around, so is all of this shit.
“Just stay here,” he tells me, eyes as dark as the night sky. “Don't move.”
“Gilleon.” This from Max. I can't see her, but her voice sounds just as calm now as it did when she was drinking champagne. “Leave Regina here and go with Karl, please.” Another pause. “That's an order.” Gilleon glances over at me and my heart starts to race inside my chest. “Let's end this, Karl. Take him and go. Leave it at that. Neither us can afford an all out war.”
Silence descends, thick and heavy, cloaking the room and blocking out everything but the sound of my own pulse.
Gilleon and I sta
re at each other for a moment, lost in each other's eyes. Behind him, Kayla levels her weapon at the back of Gill's head. I bet if he wanted to, he could turn and disarm her, probably break her arm. But then what? Two more people appear in the archway to the kitchen, weapons at their sides, just as normal, as unassuming as the ones I shot in the stairwell.
“Regina,” Gill begins, but I'm already shaking my head.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Before I can protest, Gill's sweeping me into his arms, searing my lips with his, diving into me, tasting me like it's his last chance, his only chance. Even with the smells of blood and gunpowder overpowering the room, Gill's scent fills my nostrils, that warm, spicy heat that always gets me. I'm melting into him, molding our bodies together, my mind calming at the feel of him pressed tight against me.
“I love you, Regi. I love you so goddamn much.” I open my mouth to tell him the same when he steps back, suddenly and without warning; a coldness settles over me. I'm not sure exactly what's happening, but I'm smart enough to know that it's bad. Really bad. “Aveline,” Gill begins as he takes another step back and my body starts to tremble.
“I've got her, babe,” she slurs, appearing in the doorway as Gilleon moves away from me with a finality that scares the shit out of me. No. No. No. They exchange a look of their own, and even with the damage to her face, I can see the same resigned melancholy in Aveline's expression. “I'll take care of her, Gill. You have my word.”
Take care of me?
That sounds … an awful lot like Gill's giving up. But he's not, right? He has a plan, doesn't he?
With a nod, Gill steps away from me and I follow, only to find Kayla's fingers wrapped around my upper arm. Surprisingly, she leaves the revolver in my hand. Luckily for me, she's not as smart or as perceptive as my stepbrother; she doesn't think I'm a threat. Or maybe like Maxine, she wants something to happen. She left that revolver there for a reason, right?
I stare after Gilleon, taking in the angry look on Karl's face, the harsh jerk of his chin. One of the men that's appeared in the foyer steps forward to take Gill by the shoulders and shove him to his knees. He winces but goes down without any resistance, blood staining his jeans, his blue eyes faraway and broken.
“This clears the air between us then?” Max asks, reaching into her pocket and emerging with a cigarette. There's no sign of a gun in her hand, no blood anywhere at all on her person. But on the floor at her feet, Ewan lays sprawled and motionless.
One look is all it takes to tell me that he's dead. Dead. He is as dead as the man lying next to him, the man with the bullet wound through his skull. The man that I killed.
My stomach roils again and my gaze snaps back to Gill as Karl hefts a revolver of his own in his long, pale fingers.
“It certainly doesn't hurt,” Karl says, lifting up his gun. But I saw him before. I saw him. This is a man that doesn't hesitate, that doesn't care. There won't be a speech or a long drawn out instance. The second that muzzle levels with Gill's skull, it's over.
Gilleon is gone.
Gilleon is dead.
My elbow snaps up and back, right into Kayla's face, some leftover remnant of the Fight for the Night self-defense class that Katriane made me take. Revolver up, finger on the trigger, silver gleaming.
Not even a breath passes between my lips as I squeeze.
Karl won't hesitate; neither will I.
My thumbs press together, my left numb but still able to obey my body's commands.
Never underestimate the blonde in the designer dress.
I squeeze the trigger; the bullet hits Karl right behind the ear.
Blood splatters Gilleon's face like wet paint.
That's the last thing I remember.
“Are you …” Leilani pauses for a moment and sits back in Cliff's armchair, the color draining from her face as she looks me over like she's never seen me before. I try to smile, but my face hurts from where Kayla hit me, knocking me out cold. I hear she tried to shoot me, too, but Aveline got her ten times better than she got me. Guess she didn't mean to leave that revolver in my hand. Maxine though … I guess I'll never really know.
“Going to finish that sentence?” I substitute for Leilani, taking small, slow breaths. It still hurts to inhale. I glance up at the sound of footsteps and smile as Cliff hands me an iced tea with a straw and a lemon bar on a tiny plate. “Merci beaucoup, Papa,” I say, squeezing his hand as he steps back. He knows I'm thanking him for a whole lot more than dessert.
“Don't push yourself,” Cliff warns, giving me a look and then switching it over to Leilani. I might be in my thirties, but the parental warning still makes me feel guilty. Or maybe it's just the memory of Cliff's face when I first woke up, freshly washed sheets tucked up around my chest, the smell of laundry detergent tickling my nose. Gill and me, we scared the shit out of the old man.
Outside, the sun gleams bright, drying up yesterday's rain. I'm almost disappointed, as nice as it is to have a break in the storm. Just a few more days until Christmas, and since there's no way I'm getting a white one, at least a grayish wet one, please?
“Are you … fucking crazy?” Leilani finally gasps, brown eyes moving to the staircase to check for Solène. But nope. She's upstairs unpacking some of our boxes from France, almost as excited as I am that we're staying here.
Almost.
Although nobody's as excited as I am, especially not after what Gill and I went through. If I'd had any doubts about getting back together with him—I didn't, but that's beside the point—they'd be gone now.
“You could've been killed, Regi.” Leilani puts her fingers up to her temples and shakes her head, dark brown ponytail flopping back and forth. “Don't tell me anymore or I'll feel obligated to call Anika. She calls me everyday now to check up on you. I think she's too afraid to call you herself.”
I glance down at my lap and smile, poking at the powdered sugar on the top of my dessert.
“I was wondering why she hadn't called me back.” I feel my lips twitch with a small smile and then groan, pressing the fingers of my right hand against my face. It hurts too much to lift my left right now. At the very least, the bullet just barely missed a major artery of mine. I could very easily have bled out in Maxine's fancy ass safe house.
Bleh.
I don't want to think about it.
Right now, all I want to think about is Gilleon. He and Aveline are meeting with Maxine today. What about, I don't know yet, but I'm sure he'll tell me. It better be about his retirement though because I think what we just went through is a once in a lifetime situation. Not sure I could survive another.
With Karl dead, there's nobody around to give two shits about our hundred million dollar heist. Maxine can keep the diamonds, we can get our promised cut, and I'll get to start a new life here in Seattle. No, it's not as glamorous as Paris, but it rains a hundred and fifty plus days a year, and the people here buy reusable paper towels that other people here made from recycled hemp plants. What can I say, but that it's home?
“Anika misses you, Regi. Sometime soon, you guys should get together. Go there or bring her here.” I nod because I'd already planned on doing just that. The way things are going, I'll probably head down there, visit my grandma … get a dog off the reservation. I can't wait to tell them both about Solène. Finding out your sister actually has a nine year old daughter … priceless. Anika may very well kill me for not telling her sooner.
“Do you two need anything else?” Cliff asks from the direction of the kitchen, leaning around the archway to smile tightly at us. I know he's still mad at me although I think he's more pissed about my almost dying than about getting back together with Gill. Go figure. Cliff's as stubborn as his son, so maybe I should consider that a positive? As far as negatives go, I've been avoiding the main staircase and I keep waking up in the middle of the night.
But every time I do, I wake up next to Gilleon.
That makes it all worth it. So, so worth it.
“I can't … are you sure you're not making any of this up? Did you really shoot some semi-famous crime lord?” I smile at Leilani, but I don't have to answer. She can tell, I know she can. It's written all over my face.
I fought; I struggled; I survived.
I fell back in love with a second chance.
“Oh my God,” Leilani murmurs as she sits back with a slump and a sigh. “You are a special sort of crazy, you know that?”
“Now that I've told you everything, can we watch Supernatural now? I could use some Sam and Dean in my life.” Leilani raises her dark brows at me.
“With Gilleon? I think you have more than enough man cake to deal with.”
“Man cake?” I ask, trying to stifle a laugh. Laughing hurts ten times as much as breathing right now. “Did you just make that one up?” She grins at me and shrugs, a breeze from the window teasing her hair around her face.
“He's cute, I can agree to that. Everything else about him, eh.” Leilani shrugs her shoulders. “He'll have to prove himself again. Leaving you, that was bullshit, even if it was for the right reasons.” We exchange a look, the kind of look you can only get from people who know all your secrets.
Did I say I was sad about leaving Paris? I've got Leilani back. Kind of makes it all worth it.
We both pause as the front door opens and Gilleon appears, his eyes immediately straying to mine as he steps inside and closes it behind him. As soon as I see him, something bursts open inside of me, that font of love and admiration and tenderness that I feel towards him, that I've always felt, that I'm sure I always will. Okay, and maybe there's some relief in there, too. I have to keep reminding myself that he's safe, that we'll be okay.
“The meeting with Max …” I begin, but Gill's already smiling, nodding his chin at Leilani and moving around the couch towards me. I set aside my tea and lemon bar, abandoning them on the coffee table. With Gill around, who needs sugar?
“It went well,” he says and then, acknowledging Leilani, “I take it you two had a good afternoon together?” Leilani rolls her eyes and adjusts her Legend of Zelda T-shirt.
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