Start Again (The Re-Do Series Book 3)

by Nia Arthurs

  He turned a new leaf, but he inside he is still the same dangerous man. The scars had healed, but they remain on his heart.

  I honestly don’t know which way he’ll go in this decision. Even if Maveth’s words hold merit, the fact that he hurt me is a huge deal to him.

  I think of the Oreos left on the dresser. Alistair isn’t vocal about his feelings, but he shows me he cares in little ways.

  Maveth made a huge mistake when he put his hands on me, but hopefully Alistair sees that I’m fine and doesn’t hold it against Maveth. Especially if he acted to protect his daughter.

  “I think we should hear Maveth’s story,” Alistair says.

  Lelita points at me. “Of course you’d agree with her!”

  “Hey!”

  “Let’s all calm down,” Damien tries to put out the fire before it starts.

  “Alistair’s been compromised,” Lelita hisses. “He can’t make objective decisions.”

  The man in the hot seat ignores Lelita’s outburst while I’m gearing up to start a shouting match. Damien does his best to calm us both.

  “Ladies, let’s not cause a scene.”

  “Tell that to her!”

  “You’re such a ignorant little…”

  I’m daring her to say one more word. Assassin or not, I’ve trained on the streets of Belize freakin’ City.

  I may not know how to shoot a gun, but I can tear out weaves and hair pieces like nobody’s business.

  I’m not sure which way things will go. Lelita’s voice is rising as steadily as my temper.

  In the midst of the tension, Alistair stands. Lelita falls silent. Damien straightens. We all wait, wondering what our leader is going to do.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” he says to me.

  I nod. As I scoot my chair back, Alistair grabs my hand.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper.

  He ignores me and drags me past the other tables until we’re in the elevator. I allow him to hold my hand, not that I have a choice.

  I’m all for PDA. I’ve been single for a while and shoving my relationship in other people’s faces is tempting.

  But Alistair and I have never had that define-the-relationship conversation. His totally out of the blue affection is a bit… strange.

  “Are you feeling okay?” I press my hand over his forehead.

  “Are you okay?”

  I narrow my eyes at the redirect, but answer honestly. “Yeah.”

  “Then so am I.”

  The elevator doors slide open and Alistair leads me out. We draw near to the suite and he goes for his knife.

  The sappy mood is gone. He’s in full assassin mode right now and cautions for me to stay behind him.

  I listen. Maveth has managed to fake his death and escape once before. No one wants a repeat.

  Thankfully, when we enter my old bedroom the assassin is sitting on the bed.

  He’s watching the reality television that had burned my brains out last night and seems to be enjoying it.

  Who knew?

  “Hey,” Maveth nods at me. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  He tried to kill me, so I guess this is his way of apologizing.

  “Thanks.”

  He points to the TV. “Is Janet really hiding a secret from Shantè?”

  I glance at the heavily made up women on the TV.

  Maveth adds. “I didn’t get to see the previous episodes.”

  I sit comfortably on the bed as I give a run-down of the episodes I’d seen before he tried to slit my neck with his dagger.

  “Um, Janet slept with Shantè’s husband way before he and Shantè met.”

  “Scandalous.”

  “Ehem!”

  We both look at Alistair.

  “Maveth, we’ve decided to hear your story. We make no promises. If you’re not telling the truth, you will die.”

  I hope I’m not complicit in that.

  “I understand,” Maveth’s gravelly tone is heartbreaking.

  Alistair grabs a chair and turns the television off. He hauls me off the bed and away from the assassin.

  I sit in the plump seat and Alistair stands behind me with his hand close to where he keeps his dagger.

  “Speak.”

  He does.

  Chapter 16

  Alistair

  Maveth’s story shouldn’t move me, but it does.

  He describes finding out about his daughter. The feelings he experienced mirrored the emotions I battled when I found the love letters.

  He speaks of sharing custody with the mother, watching the little girl grow up and keeping his true occupation from her.

  This part has Kendall sniffling.

  Damien and a calmer Lelita enter when Maveth gets to the part that involves my father.

  Damien clasps my shoulders and I strengthen myself for whatever Shadow will say.

  “I got a call from an old client. He gave me an address and two million dollars in my bank account.”

  “Did you know it was Alistair’s fa––” Damien takes a look at my face and amends, “Mr. Howard. Did you know it was Mr. Howard?”

  “No, I don’t know names. I just look for money and instructions.”

  “What happened next?” Kendall says sweetly.

  The woman is so full of compassion I don’t know how she has any money left. The scam artists in Belize must have a field day with her.

  “I showed up at the warehouse and set up my gear. I waited for a few hours until nightfall. It was supposed to be a quick shot. A mob boss that needed to meet his maker.”

  I nod to show my understanding. I’ve had quite a few of those jobs myself.

  “But it wasn’t. It was Miriam. Your father had her in his grasp. He made me point my gun at my little girl…”

  Maveth takes a moment to collect himself.

  Kendall soothes his back and mutters comforting words. I want to drag her away from him, but I hold still.

  As far as I can tell, Maveth is speaking the truth and Kendall is providing comfort. The minute I smell something fishy, however, she’s out of here.

  “I was on a rooftop so by the time I ran down to the building, Miriam and Howard were gone. I went to Miriam’s mother and found her dead.”

  It is hard to believe, after all these years, that my father is alive. But to hear that he became such a ruthless man is even more disturbing.

  “That’s sad,” Lelita says dryly, “but we all have our prices to pay when we choose this life.”

  Maveth glares at her.

  “Let’s get to the point. Why is Alistair’s father gunning for him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why did he choose you to do it when he could have chosen anyone?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Lelita folds her arms across her chest. “What do you know?”

  “I know that my baby will die if I don’t kill him!” Maveth points at me. “It’s better to die trying than let her leave this world thinking her daddy didn’t do his best to save her.”

  “And what’s to keep you from trying to murder Alistair if we help you?” Damien says.

  My friend has a point. Kendall looks offended on Maveth’s behalf, but I squeeze her shoulder and she keeps quiet.

  My girl is a little too trusting and in this business, nothing can be taken at face value.

  “I’m not stupid. I know that bastard is holding Miriam over my head to control me. Either way she’s dead. If I survive, he knows I’m coming for him the minute she is safely in my care. There’s no way he’ll hand her over.”

  Kendall stands and bats her eyelashes. “If we help him, he can guarantee his daughter’s life. If we don’t, she dies either way. He has everything to lose.”

  “I don’t like it.” Lelita humphs.

  “It’s your call,” Damien slaps my back. “I can promise that if he tries to murder you, I’ll kill him, but it might be too late.”

  I rub my chin and avoid Kendall’s gaze. I know what she
wants without looking at her.

  She’s a soft-touch and the minute Maveth started talking, she forgot all about his many attempts to kill us.

  Lelita’s accusations were wrong. Having Kendall in my life makes me very objective. I have someone to live for, someone to make proud.

  Every decision I make will impact Kendall and that means every step should be taken carefully.

  I follow my gut and stare Maveth in the eyes. “Alright, we’ll help.”

  Lelita throws up her hands. “For the love of––”

  “But,” I interrupt her spiel, “if you betray us or harm any of my friends, I will hunt you down and kill you if it takes my last dying breath.”

  Maveth nods his understanding.

  “Good,” I flick my wrists. “Now let’s start with the easy questions. Where is my father?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Of course he doesn’t.”

  “I thought you knew?” Kendall gapes.

  “It’s not as cut and dry as that. He sends me messages on my phone the way all my clients do. I get updated pictures of Miriam holding up the day’s newspapers. That’s the extent of our communication. Trust me, I’ve tried to find him. That’s how I found out he was your father.”

  “How many men are on his payroll?” Damien asks quickly.

  “A small army,” Maveth responds. “But they’re mobsters, not assassins.”

  “Where does he get all that money?” Kendall wonders aloud.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Of course you don’t.” Lelita stands. “I’m heading out for some air.”

  “That’s a good question, Kendall,” Damien paces the room. “For a man that’s supposed to be dead, he’s got a lot of resources. It has to lead somewhere.”

  “None of us are tech gurus. How do we trace it?”

  “There’s one place,” Maveth says.

  I know what he’s referring to before he speaks another word.

  “No.”

  “He has a point,” Damien allows.

  “What? What are we talking about?” Kendall’s gaze bounces between the three of us.

  “I can’t go back there,” Maveth sniffs. “But you can.”

  “Go back where?”

  “NO!”

  “What the heck are you guys talking about?” Kendall yells.

  The room freezes. Maveth licks his lips and stares at the bed sheets. Damien shuffles his feet.

  I break the stillness. “They want me to return to the league.”

  “That’s… a bad thing?”

  “It will mean getting access to tech we’ll need. You can pardon Maveth and trace the call. We storm your father’s place, get the kid and take Howard in,” Damien says.

  “At what cost?” I snap. “Do you think the league will just accept me with open arms? I heard they have a new chief. It could mean war for the faction.”

  “Do you have any other ideas?” Damien counters. “You’re the one that wants to help.”

  Maveth remains quiet through our argument because he has no say.

  Kendall’s silence reveals her confusion.

  The ways of the league are complicated and steeped in tradition. The brothers who still believed the chieftainship was my right would revolt.

  My presence alone would disturb the peace and crack the very fragment of Ladheug’s legacy.

  “There has to be another way.”

  “There is,” Maveth says.

  We all look to the stoic man on the mattress.

  “Well,” Damien prods when the silence lengthens, “will you tell us.”

  “I have a plan,” Maveth meets my gaze, “but you’re not going to like it.”

  “Why? What does it involve?” Kendall inquires.

  Maveth stares me down and in a gravelly voice says––“I’m going to have to kill him.”

  Chapter 17

  Kendall

  I’ve only liked Alistair for a couple of weeks, but this is the second time that Maveth’s tried to kill him.

  Is this a hazard of the trade? No wonder Alistair ran from this life with all he was worth.

  I’m trying to wrap my mind around all that Maveth is proposing, but in the grand scheme of things, starting a war in Alistair’s old league makes more sense.

  At least then, he’ll be with people he trusts.

  It’s true that Maveth’s story nearly brought me to tears a couple of times. His love for his daughter is evident.

  I can feel it.

  That doesn’t mean we should let him walk free and carry out the plans spewing from his mouth.

  In fact, I’m largely against it.

  Damien and Alistair wear thoughtful expressions when Maveth stops speaking. Silence fills the air. I fidget with the tassels on my shirt.

  “Um,” I speak up, “am I the only one that thinks we’re crazy for considering this?”

  Alistair lifts an eyebrow. “I thought you’d be the first to encourage us.”

  “I want to help you,” I say to Maveth. “I do, but you can’t expect us to put that much trust in you. Not after everything that’s gone down.”

  “You either trust me or we fail. Either way, you’ll need my help to get to Howard.”

  “Do we?” I winced. “Do we really?”

  Both Alistair and Damien nod gravely.

  “I don’t like this,” I mutter.

  “Don’t like what?” Lelita’s voice makes me jump like a kid sticking her hand in the cookie jar.

  None of the assassins blink an eye, though I know they must be quaking in their boots too. She appeared out of thin air.

  Damien speaks up. “Alistair must decide between returning to the league or… doing something drastic.”

  “I’m all for the league!” Lelita raises her hand.

  “So am I!” I yell.

  Lelita and I actually agree on something. We both shiver in horror.

  Damien scratches his head and points to the bed. “There’s always the option of killing him.”

  I sigh. These assassins and their Plan C’s.

  “Murder is not an option,” I remind him.

  “Neither is going back to the league,” Alistair declares.

  “But they’re waiting for you and they––”

  “Never again,” Alistair stares Lelita down. “I won’t compromise. That chapter of my life is over.”

  “But––”

  “Never. Again.”

  “Well, I guess there’s only one option left,” Damien says.

  Everyone stares at Maveth.

  “I have a bad feeling and I don’t even know what you’re planning,” Lelita shudders.

  Alistair firms his jaw. “How soon can we set things in motion?”

  “Untie me and we’ll get to work.”

  Nobody moves.

  “I won’t betray you.”

  “Words are cheap,” Lelita huffs.

  “My daughter is out there. I won’t destroy my only chance of rescuing her.”

  “I’m still not convinced you’re even telling the truth about this kid. Who’s to say it’s not some trick?”

  “How ‘bout we find out?” Alistair stands and produces his dagger. The sharp end glints in the sunlight.

  Maveth remains fixed. I’m scared and I’m not the one with a knife coming at my throat.

  “W-what are you doing?” I stutter.

  Damien backs me away from the bed.

  “Alistair…” Lelita says.

  “Be quiet, Lelita. He needs to concentrate,” Damien snaps.

  “Concentrate on what?”

  “Vanetis, it is an ancient tradition assassins employed to get their captives to spill secrets.”

  “But Alistair…”

  “Lelita!”

  We all ignore her.

  “What is he going to do?” I ask.

  “He needs to cut a nerve near the back of his neck.”

  I gasp and stare at the man of my dreams bearing down on Maveth who isn’t movi
ng an inch.

  “Alistair! Look out!”

  As her words touch the air, the windows crash open. Glass shards rain down on our heads like confetti.

  Five black coated men riding on harnesses slip through the hole in the wall. Two assassins grasp Lelita and begin to drag her from the room.

  Damien shoves me down.

  “Get to the closet!” he yells and then turns his attention to defeating the guys in coats.

  I’ve seen a million adventure movies, but watching Lelita, Alistair, and Damien in action feels like watching the latest thriller in 3D.

  Their opponents wield guns, knives, and deadly intent but my friends… and Lelita respond with expert kicks and punches as if the dangerous weapons are cotton candy sticks.

  I’m half-way to the closet when a loud thud meets my ears. I look to my left and scream. One of the assassins stares back at me with vacant eyes.

  “Kendall!” Alistair shouts.

  I look up and find him staring at me. Distracted.

  Damien and Lelita are busy battling their own hooded mercenaries. In the chaos, I spot the fifth assassin lumbering to his feet.

  He positions his gun and points it at the back of Alistair’s head.

  “Noooo!”

  The man places his hands on the trigger. The shot bounces against the walls and merges with my frantic screams.

  Alistair’s expression is full of shock and surprise. I scramble to my knees, rushing to his side to catch him before he falls.

  But he doesn’t.

  Instead he turns around and stares at the assassin who is falling to his knees. Behind him, Maveth brandishes a pistol and nods at us.

  The last grunts of the invading assassins are abruptly cut off as Lelita and Damien finish them off.

  I stand in the middle of a suite that looks like a war room.

  “Are you okay?” Damien jogs up to me. His eyes frantically look me over.

  “I’m fine,” I say.

  “Alistair!” Lelita throws her arms around my guy.

  I send her a dark look, but Alistair doesn’t allow the touch for long. He shrugs Lelita off (ha, ha) and strides toward Maveth.

  “You saved my life,” he says.

  “I did.”

  “Who are they?” Damien adds.

  “That’s what I was trying to warn you meat-heads,” Lelita picks up an arm and points to the brand on it. “My father sent them. Undoubtedly, there are more on the way.”