Eulogy

by Rachel Van Dyken

  Either he was softening me toward himself before shooting me…

  Or the Grinch actually had given him back his heart.

  I slowly sat in the tub and moaned out loud when the hot water massaged my tired muscles.

  I had been sitting for maybe one minute when a knock sounded at my door.

  “Yeah?” I called.

  “Jets, right side, black switch.”

  “Thanks!”

  He didn’t say anything else. Ugh, maybe his heart was still on vacation, or he was definitely killing me.

  At least I’d be warm.

  I closed my eyes and let my guard down a bit especially after the glass of champagne. He’d left the bottle, so I poured another and wondered what kind of psycho would try to burn this place down when it had a bathroom like this?

  Several bathrooms like this.

  I yawned and stretched with a smile on my face and then frowned because I was thinking about him again.

  About his grin.

  About his eyes.

  He wasn’t mine to have.

  He wasn’t anyone’s.

  If there was anything I’d learned about Chase, it was that the world, in his mind, owed him everything — and he was hell-bent on settling that debt.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  “Guilt was not something I was used to. It wasn’t in my makeup. Not something the mafia teaches you. No, the mafia teaches you survival. My father taught me how to live and how to kill. And I was a good student.”

  — Ex-FBI Agent P

  Chase

  On the outside I was calm.

  Confident.

  Still angry.

  Still an asshole.

  But my heart? It beat so wildly that I pressed a hand to it and leaned against the wall in the spare bathroom. What the hell was that?

  The almost painful feeling that stretched my chest wide. The one that made me think I was having a heart attack.

  Naked.

  She’d been so naked.

  I’d only acted unaffected because I was in shock.

  Complete shock.

  Eight months, and I’d told myself I would never touch another woman again, promised myself I’d leave this earth with her blood on my hands, that it would consume me in every way.

  And now I was thinking about her wearing those damn pearls.

  And nothing else.

  I dropped the towel and stepped into the shower then braced one hand against the wall as my body pulsed with need. I clenched my teeth. Unbelievable. She wore headbands!

  I killed people.

  She had pearls.

  I reached for myself and gripped.

  I wasn’t going to live past my last few kills.

  I moved my hand as water pelted my back. Her parted lips… that wide-eyed innocent look that made me even wonder if she’d ever had sex before or if she’d just been too busy being proper to even think about it…

  I let out a grunt of frustration.

  My hand was a pathetic substitute for that mouth of hers.

  It was painful, removing my hand, staring at the wall, and quickly flipping on the cold water.

  Any other woman, and I’d be satisfied.

  Any other woman, but not her.

  No, not her.

  “Fuck!” I slammed my hands against the tiled wall and grit my teeth as freezing water hit me from all sides, cooling me off but doing nothing about the fact that I was going to impale her if I got too close.

  I smirked, even though it wasn’t funny. To think I’d thought she’d broken my dick, too.

  After all, she’d taken everything else.

  Why not take that?

  Have the last laugh?

  I squatted down and let the water hit my face, chilling me to the bone. If a cold shower didn’t do it, I wasn’t so sure she should sing to me tonight; the last thing I needed was for her to think I had her in my room because I was seconds away from screwing her.

  “Agh!” I stood and washed my body, rinsed, then grabbed a towel and quietly made my way back into the bedroom to grab a pair of pajama pants. Tonight was not the best night to just wear black Stance briefs to bed.

  I’d literally just pulled up my pants when she walked around the corner, clothed, with her skin looking dewy and pink.

  I wiped my face with one hand and stared.

  She didn’t move.

  Her hair was in a knot on her head, and her face was bare, no makeup.

  And I’d never seen anyone so innocent-looking, so pure, in my entire existence; it made me want to lock her up like a psychopath and put a full-time guard on her just in case someone saw what I saw and took advantage.

  She had long legs.

  Full hips.

  And breasts that, I knew for a fact, would spill over my hands, and then some. I averted my eyes for the first time since she walked out and grabbed a chair. “You can just sit… here.”

  I placed the chair a few feet away from my bed.

  Away from temptation I didn’t need.

  And then turned off the lights and went to lie on the mattress. I pulled the down comforter over me and heard the sound of the chair scraping across the floor until finally settling about an inch from my body.

  Great. Just. Great.

  I exhaled slowly and managed to relax my body. Luc moved to the chair but must have tripped on something because one minute she was standing next to me and the next minute I was getting kneed in the junk and seeing stars.

  “SHIT!” I roared as she covered her face and stumbled back to the chair.

  “I’m so sorry! I was just trying to— never mind. Maybe this is a bad idea. Do you need an ice pack? Peas?”

  I couldn’t help it. She’d offered me fucking peas.

  I lost it.

  I laughed, and for the first time in I didn’t even know how long, it felt like a real laugh, as if it came from some place good, not from the darkness.

  “So you’re not hurt?” she asked when I stopped laughing.

  “You pretty much just took my dick off with your knee. What do you think?”

  She hung her head.

  I reached for her, hesitated midway, then just went with it as my fingers tilted her chin toward me. “It was an accident.”

  “So you’re not… going to…” She eyed the gun on my nightstand.

  “For rendering me sterile?” I joked. “No.”

  She made a face. “I didn’t knee you that hard.”

  “My balls went into my spleen. Trust me. You did.”

  Even in the dark, I could make out her blush.

  I tried not to react to it.

  Told my body it was finally losing its last grip on reality, but I couldn’t resist. I cupped her face again with both hands.

  Her breaths came out in short, ragged exhales as if she was having trouble sucking in enough air.

  I leaned in just as a loud crash sounded downstairs.

  Well, that did the trick.

  I grabbed the gun and pointed it at her. “Stay.”

  “But—”

  “Stay!” I yelled it this time and shut the door behind me.

  Another crash and then whispering.

  They must have been trying to gain my attention, or they were literally the loudest and worst associates on the planet.

  I flicked on the lights.

  Nothing happened.

  No wonder.

  Either they’d cut the lights or— Thunder sounded in the distance.

  Well, at least I had my answer.

  I waited for someone to make an appearance at the bottom of the stairs. After a few seconds, there was no more talking. Well, shit.

  I walked down quietly and turned the corner into the kitchen then felt movement behind me. I turned and shot.

  Direct hit to the head.

  The guy fell to the ground. Just as Vic approached from behind, blood covering his face as he gave his head a shake. “They cut the power.” He rasped, “Bastards ran from me—I had it handled.”<
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  “That why you look ready to pass out from blood loss?” My eyebrows rose while he gave me a fuck you look and raised his gun just as another guy popped out from the left, the bullet hit him between his eyes, but Vic was still looking at me, his face indifferent.

  “Lucky shot.”

  His lips twitched. “I never miss.”

  My front door opened, and there he was.

  Fucking Andrei Petrov.

  Clapping.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  “There is no prey, only predators, lots and lots of predators, and the people stupid enough to invite them in.”

  — Ex-FBI Agent P

  Luciana

  I heard two gunshots, then talking.

  He’d told me to stay, but if they were talking, surely that meant one of the other guys had shown up, right? The good ones? I frowned. They all shot at each other, but I was beginning to side with Chase. He never attacked them; he was always attacked first. That had to be a vote in his favor, right?

  I opened the door and made my way down the hall and paused at the stairway. Chase was just lowering his gun as the tall guy started clapping.

  “Andrei,” Chase sounded bored. “Tell me they weren’t yours. They were loud as shit.”

  Andrei shrugged. “They were De Lange associates. I brought you a snack. You should say thank you.”

  Chase grunted his response, while Vic, who stood behind him snarled and then left the room like he didn’t have time to talk, only shoot.

  Andrei had leather gloves, a long wool coat, and handsome features if I could look past the anger that seemed to wrap around him just like his coat. Was everyone angry who did what Chase did?

  I gulped and waited.

  “What did you need, Andrei?”

  “I need nothing. My assets have been unfrozen. I’m living the high life.” He put his hands in his pockets. “No, I’m here for you.”

  “To kill me?”

  “We both know the Italians are too useful to kill.”

  Italians?

  They did drink a lot of wine.

  Organized crime.

  The payouts.

  Two billion dollars.

  My mind worked.

  Murderers.

  Police calling him sir.

  Dread washed over me as I waited.

  “True,” Chase smirked. “And the Russians, well, there’s only one of you left… How sad. Daddy doing okay in prison?”

  Andrei didn’t even flinch. “I hated my father as much as you did. You know that.”

  Chase seemed to soften a bit. “Yeah well, none of us really liked our fathers. They didn’t do things right.”

  “No,” Andrei spat, “they didn’t.”

  “I should hate you,” Chase said.

  “And yet you don’t…” Andrei flicked off something from his jacket as if he was inspecting it for lint. “I am sorry she died, but you know I did what I had to do. I did what you would have done — what any one of you would have done. I think that’s the problem. You know this business. I know this business. If she was willing to betray you—”

  “Stop.” Chase clenched his teeth.

  “Then…” Andrei shrugged. “…how long before she would betray me?”

  She?

  “Again, why are you here?” Chase crossed his arms. I could tell he was annoyed.

  “Locations.” Andrei held out a piece of paper to Chase. “There are fifty-seven individuals left, not including any of the wives or children.”

  Chase took the paper and examined it. “And what am I supposed to do with this?”

  Andrei winked. “Follow your heart?”

  “She took it with her,” Chase fired back.

  Pain sliced through my chest. Ridiculous. No wonder he couldn’t even look at me, didn’t even flinch when I was naked. The man belonged to someone else, a dead someone else.

  Andrei let out an impatient sigh. “Then you’re the dumb bastard who let her.”

  Chase moved, his hand toying with his gun. “Watch it. Still my house, my property. I could end you, and the FBI wouldn’t even blink.”

  “That,” Andrei chuckled, “is where you’re wrong.”

  “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

  He didn’t answer just turned on his heel and then called back, “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you didn’t have to do it.”

  Chase was silent.

  “Shooting one’s wife would not be a nice memory. Better that Phoenix did the hard thing than either of us. Better he end his line…”

  I gasped and covered my mouth with my hands, garnering the attention of both Andrei and Chase.

  If he wasn’t going to shoot me before, he most likely would now. He’d told me to stay. Why hadn’t I stayed?

  Andrei’s eyebrows shot up. “Moving on so soon?”

  “Employee,” Chase said through clenched teeth. “Who apparently doesn’t listen to instructions well.”

  I trembled.

  Andrei smiled at me. “Pretty, though.”

  It felt like an insult.

  His eyes raked over me. “Innocent.”

  Chase looked ready to murder him.

  With a tilt of his head, Andrei looked from me to Chase. “How much?”

  “Excuse me?” I stupidly interrupted.

  Andrei put up his gloved hand as if he wanted me to stop talking.

  “She’s not for sale,” Chase bit out.

  “Five hundred thousand.” Andrei examined me again. His blue eyes seemed to look through my thin pajamas. “On second thought… two million. I’m going to wager she’s a virgin.”

  “I’m not.” Of course now I would speak.

  It seemed to only encourage him more. “I like her spirit.”

  “She’s not a horse,” Chase spat. “Stop insulting me, and her, and leave. We’re done here.”

  Andrei shrugged. “Your loss.” He walked out the door and shut it quietly behind him.

  My knees knocked together as Chase, very slowly, took the stairs one at a time, then faced me at the top of the landing, his breathing even, his eyes crazed.

  “I’m s-sorry. I thought it was over and then—”

  “When I tell you to stay—” He gripped my chin in his right hand. “—you fucking stay.”

  I nodded jerkily.

  He released me and turned then slammed me against the wall and kissed me so hard I couldn’t breathe. The gun was by my right ear pressed against the wall, just like me, and this man, this beautiful, scary man, wasn’t shooting me.

  He was kissing me.

  So I kissed him back.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on.

  I told myself it was adrenaline.

  I told myself that it was his face, his body. It was convenience.

  It wasn’t any of those things.

  It was just him.

  I couldn’t explain it.

  His teeth nipped at my lower lip, and he lifted me with one arm. The gun clamored to the floor as he moved against me, his mouth assaulting mine in a way that had me clinging to his shirt, and then his biceps, as he swept his tongue past my parted lips and into my mouth as if he belonged there. I squeezed my eyes shut as he twisted my hair in his right hand and deepened the kiss. The heat from his body pulsed between us, and I let out a moan. He drove his body against me harder, leaving no space between us. I moved my hands to his hair, tugging at it in an effort to get closer. I’d never been so consumed by a kiss, by another person, and the way his rock-hard body pressed against my softness, my thighs clenched when he lowered his hand to my ass.

  My breath caught when he pulled away, dragged a kiss down past my jaw, and bit the sensitive skin where my neck met my shoulder. I cried out just as the door slammed downstairs.

  “Chase? It’s Dante. Got your 911 text— Oh shit, more bodies… Should we open up our own morgue? Might be lucrative if you keep this up.” He rounded the corner just as Chase released me. I almost fell to the ground, but my jelly legs caught me.<
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  Dante looked between us and then quickly turned around and walked off, a smile on his lips.

  “You—” Chase heaved, stabbing a finger against my chest, and then caressing that same finger across the bite mark he’d made on my neck. “—belong to no one.”

  Not what I expected.

  My stomach sank to my knees.

  “I’d kill you before I’d let him have you.”

  He cursed and kicked the wall, making me jump a foot, then stomped down the stairs.

  Tears filled my eyes as I numbly walked back down the hall and shut the door to my room, my lips trembling the entire time.

  What had just happened?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  “Everyone has a weakness. I thought his was dead. I thought wrong.”

  — Ex-FBI Agent P

  Chase

  My hands shook with rage.

  At her.

  At myself.

  At Andrei.

  “Are we gonna talk about it?” Dante asked as he started wrapping the first body in a black tarp.

  I glared and stayed silent as I got the bleach and dumped it in the metal tub I’d pulled into the house.

  “Because…” The bastard wouldn’t stop talking. “…it looked like I walked in on you pre-sex.”

  I hung my head. “Dante, listen to me very carefully. Hell would have to freeze the fuck over for me to have sex with her. There, happy?” When I turned to face him, it wasn’t just him in the room, but Luc, too, and she was holding out my gun, and it was shaking in her hand.

  “You dropped this, and since you always have it, I figured…” She held it out to me. Her eyes wouldn’t meet mine.

  “Luc—”

  She shrugged. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I’m not yours… remember?”

  I took the gun from her hand.

  “Good to see you, Dante.” She smiled at him.

  I hated it.

  “You, too.” He looked like he meant it.

  Her smile fell when she glared back at me and walked off.

  Dante and I watched her go.

  When she was gone, Dante whistled and then shook his head at me. “You should go apologize.”

  I looked away. “Not apologizing for telling the truth.”

  “Shit, sometimes you’re an idiot. I take that back. Ninety-nine percent of the time, you’re an idiot, I’ve known you less than a year and still… This shit is…” Dante grabbed the bleach from my hand and motioned to the stairs. “Go apologize. She looked ready to cry.”