Hard Bounty (The Snake Eyes Series Book 5)

by Tabatha Kiss

  My eyes fall to Elijah again. She sold him. She fucking sold him.

  Enzo stops in front of us and laughs as soon as he sees Elijah in the elevator. “Oh, now that…” he sighs. “That is a beautiful sight. Well done, Myra. My father will be very happy to see this. Should perk him right up.”

  “It was my pleasure, Mr. Zappia,” she says.

  He flashes a flirtatious wink. “Enzo, please.”

  Myra ignores it and stares at him, patiently waiting until he takes the hint. He holds out the briefcase and she snatches it from him.

  He grins at me. “Hey, Allen. No hard feelings, right? I was kind of a dick before but that’s business. You understand.”

  I hold back the urge to crush his face. “Entirely.”

  Myra lowers the briefcase to her side. “Archer, please carry the package to Mr. Zappia’s car.”

  The package?

  He’s a fucking person.

  The twin of the woman I love. I couldn’t see how much they resembled each other until now. The same long eyelashes. The same nose and cheekbones. His hair is a dark chestnut. I suppose that’s Lilah’s real color beneath the fire-red dye…

  “Archer.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say, shaking out of it.

  I lower down to my knees to pull Elijah off the floor. My hands quickly coat with his blood and it chills me to the bone. This is Hart blood. Lilah’s blood. It easily could have been her in my arms right now.

  Enzo extends his hand to Myra. “It’s been a pleasure.”

  She doesn’t take it. She eyes me instead, watching with a squinted gaze as I gently lift Elijah onto my shoulder and stand back up.

  “When you’re done,” she says to me, “come back up here. We still have work to do and I can’t hold off law enforcement for much longer.”

  I nod as Enzo steps onto the elevator. He chuckles to himself, carefully avoiding the pool of blood beneath us.

  Myra stares at me, unblinking and cold, until the elevator doors close on her face.

  Enzo leads me outside to a black sedan parked behind my trailer. My lips twitch with amusement. This asshole actually came alone, though I suspect he didn’t have much choice considering how many of his men Lilah slaughtered all by herself.

  “Here…” Enzo pauses behind his car. “Toss him in the trunk.”

  I walk past him and open the backseat instead.

  “Hey — I said the trunk. I don’t want to get blood on the upholstery.”

  I lower down and slide Elijah off my shoulder to lay him inside.

  “Hey, Allen! You stupid or something?”

  I spin back around towards Enzo. He stares at me with an annoyed, twisted expression and I roll my hands into white-knuckle fists.

  “Give me your phone,” I growl.

  “What?”

  I jab him hard in the jaw and he falls to the ground like a damn rag doll. While he cries out in pain, I search his pockets for his phone. I quickly find it in his suit jacket and throw it across the parking lot.

  “What the—”

  I silence him with a hard kick to the gut. His clothing tears in my grasp as I grab him and jerk him off the ground. He struggles but he’s no fighter, coughing and gasping for air through his bruised solar plexus.

  I toss him into the trunk and slam it closed. The car rocks up and down as he bounces around inside and shouts for help.

  My phone rings in my pocket. I answer without looking.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Her voice is calm, yet pointed. I scan the hotel windows, searching for her spying eyes. “Taking out the trash.”

  Myra ticks her tongue. “You’re making a huge mistake, Archer.”

  “Noted.”

  “You love her, don’t you? I can see it all over your face.”

  I inhale a deep breath. “Even if I didn’t, I’d still do this.”

  “Why?”

  “Because fuck you and your ugly shoes.”

  She cackles. “You know, my mother told me I was wrong about you. That my instincts were off and you weren’t fit for this team.”

  “She was right.”

  “I guess so.” I hear her burning cigarette paper. “Enjoy the quiet while it lasts, Archer.” She lowers to a whisper. “It’s about to get very loud…”

  I drop the phone to the ground and smash it beneath my heel.

  Chapter 16

  Lilah

  I step onto the porch and stop.

  Wind chills my skin. Insects buzz around me. Water slaps against the dock across the lawn. It’s the same as it always is out here but the inside of the house won’t be the same ever again.

  My ankles fuse to the wood beneath me, refusing to take another step.

  Dante pauses as well, his legs just as stiff and cold as mine are, and we stand together in the darkness.

  Lucy opens the front door, her eyes wide with worry as she studies our wounded faces. “What happened?” she asks.

  Dante inhales but the air slips right back out.

  She looks behind us, growing more terrified. “Where’s Elijah?”

  The sob strikes me down and I drop to my knees. My hands break my fall but I struggle to hold myself up as tears spill onto my blood-soaked fingers.

  Whispering voices fade in and out above me. I can’t make out the words through my own gasping breaths but whatever they are, they make Lucy walk back inside.

  Dante lowers himself down to sit beside me. His arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me in, holding me against his chest with an unyielding strength.

  “I’ve got you, little sister,” he says. “I’ve got you.”

  ***

  I wake the next morning in my own bed with no memory of how I got here.

  There’s a glass of water on the bedside table. I stare through the clear liquid, making out the familiar faces in the picture frame behind it by the lamp.

  Me and my brothers when we were teenagers. Bright eyes and smiling faces. Young and full of life. We didn’t know any better back then.

  Elijah’s grin is quickly replaced with the memory of him lying dead in that elevator.

  I bury my head in my pillow for another hour or so before pulling myself out of bed.

  I hear the two of them talking but their voices quickly fall as soon as they hear my feet on the stairs.

  Lucy meets me at the bottom and offers a kind smile. “Hey,” she says.

  “Hey…” I repeat, stepping around her.

  Dante sits in his chair at the kitchen table with a full plate of breakfast in front of him but he hasn’t touched a bite of it. There’s a fresh bandage on his forehead, haphazardly placed over the cut on his left eye and I can’t help but think what Elijah would say if he saw it.

  “Are you hungry?” Lucy asks me.

  I shake my head. “No,” I say, plopping into my chair across from Dante.

  “Coffee?”

  “No.”

  I don’t mean to sound rude and I know she won’t take it that way, but I still offer her an apologetic look. Lucy smiles again with understanding, quickly embracing the care-taking role. We did the same for her after her father was killed. It makes sense that she’d step up now.

  She fills a glass of water and sets it down in front of me anyway before taking the seat next to Dante.

  My eyes drift to the chair beside me. Elijah’s chair. I still feel like his feet will come skipping down the stairs at any moment. Strangely, I never want that instinct to leave me.

  “We left him there,” I say, though I don’t mean to. The words slip off my tongue before I even realize it but what’s done is done.

  Dante stares at the table. “We didn’t have a choice.”

  “Yes, we did.”

  “Lilah…” he deflates. “It was either him or all of us. He told me to get you out and I did.”

  I’m sure that thought will help him sleep for the rest of his life but it does little to comfort me.

  Lucy rests her hand on his shou
lder and another pang strikes my gut.

  I left Archer there, too. I have no idea if Myra spared him at all. I probably never will.

  What’s done is done.

  My ears twitch at the sound of tires rolling up the gravel driveway. Dante leaps out of his chair as I do, both of us beelining for the first weapon in sight on our way to the front door.

  “Lucy, stay back,” he says, gripping his pistol. She nods and does as she’s told, clinging to the kitchen table with both hands.

  We rush out onto the porch and I breathe a sigh of relief. The motor home comes to a stop near our garage with a black sedan sloppily cinched to the back of it.

  “It’s Archer…” I say, relaxing my gun.

  Dante holds his weapon a little tighter and slides a bullet into the chamber.

  “Dante—”

  He takes wide strides off the porch and I follow close behind him all the way to the trailer door.

  Archer takes one step out and throws up his hands. “Hold on…” he says. “I come in peace.”

  I pause, my eyes instantly drawn to the blood on his shirt beneath his jacket. That wasn’t there before…

  Dante points the gun at Archer’s face. “How did you know we were here?”

  “That’s a long story and I’ll be happy to explain it, but first…” Archer gestures to the black car behind the trailer.

  I take a step back and move a little closer, catching sight of something in the window.

  A body lies on the backseat.

  Elijah.

  Dante joins me and lowers his gun to his side.

  “I thought he deserved a proper burial,” Archer says, slowly dropping his hands. “With his family.”

  I lock eyes with him before my vision blurs with tears. He doesn’t blink. He just stares back at me with that urge in his eyes, the same urge that I feel to run into his arms right now.

  Dante steps between us, breaking our eye contact. “Were you followed?” he asks.

  Archer shakes his head. “No.”

  “Were you followed?!”

  “No,” he says again, calm and steady. “I went several hundred miles out of my way to be sure.”

  “Hey! Get me out of here, you son-of-a-bitch! I’ll fucking slit your fucking throat, you British piece-of—”

  We pause and look towards the trunk as the rapid-fire slurs continue.

  Archer reaches into his pocket for the car keys and tosses them at Dante. “For you,” he says. “The man who ordered his hit.”

  Dante catches them and moves to the trunk.

  I stand still and stare at Archer as I recognize the muffled voice inside. My heart races with revenge and grief and love — all at the same time. Archer risked his life to bring Elijah back here… and he risked a hell of a lot more capturing a damn Zappia, too.

  He meets my eyes. “I’m sorry for your loss, Lilah.”

  My lower lip trembles.

  Dante pops the trunk and the shouting stops. For the first time in days, my big brother smiles. “Hey, Enzo,” he says.

  “Aw, shit.”

  I walk over and stand beside him. Enzo’s beady eyes flinch in my direction and I take pleasure in his sweat-covered, panicked face. “Warm enough in there for you?” I ask.

  The harsh summer sun beams down at him and he squints in anger.

  “Hang in there, Enzo.” I glance over my shoulder at the lake behind us and reach up to lay my hand on the trunk door. “We’ll get you cooled off soon.”

  “Wait, wait—”

  I slam it closed on him and he starts screaming again.

  Dante turns to Archer and walks back over to him by the car. They stare at each other for several moments before Dante finally nods. “Thank you,” he says.

  “You’re welc—”

  Dante punches Archer in the nose.

  I gasp as Archer falls back against the car. His hands fly to his face, cradling his already busted nose. My instincts tear in two, leaving me standing still between my brother and my lover. I expect Dante to keep pounding on him but he steps back instead and walks away to join Lucy on the porch.

  Archer stands upright and nods as blood trickles down his lip. “I guess I deserved that.”

  “For what?” I ask.

  He shrugs and wipes it away. “I kind of banged his little sister…”

  I sigh. “Thank you.”

  Archer shifts backward and blocks his face. “You’re not going to hit me, too, are you?”

  “No.”

  He relaxes. “Then, you’re welcome.”

  I look him up and down. “Are you okay?” I ask. “Do you need a tampon or something?”

  “No,” he smiles. “I think I’ll manage.”

  “How’s the head?”

  “Hardly felt it, love. And it worked, obviously… until I tossed a gangster in a boot. That stood out a bit.”

  My smile fades and I take a slow, deep breath before finally letting myself look at Elijah in the backseat. I move around to the other side of the car, feeling the weight on my shoulders as it doubles with each step I take.

  I open the back door and slide inside, sitting down on the seat next to my twin’s body. I expect him to open his eyes and scold me for waking him at any moment but he just lies there, still and cold.

  I raise him up and place his head on my lap. “I’m so sorry, Eli,” I whisper.

  I’ve been shot. Stabbed. Burned. Thrown out of windows.

  None of it hurt as much as this.

  I run my fingers through his shaggy hair. He never did get that haircut. He never got a second date with that nurse. He never had the chance to live the normal life he always should have had if it weren’t for me.

  “Lilah.”

  I glance up at Archer standing by the door.

  “What do you need?” he asks.

  “Tell me the truth. For the next five seconds, I’ll believe any word you say.” I bite my quivering lips as tears fall down my cheeks. “Was this my fault?”

  Archer furrows his brow and takes a knee beside us. “No,” he says. “This wasn’t your fault, love.”

  I nod once. I pull Elijah closer and rest my forehead against his as Archer lays a strong hand on my back.

  Chapter 17

  Archer

  Dante emerges from the house about an hour later with swollen, red eyes and the brunette by his side.

  They move around the house to the dock and he pulls the small rowboat ashore. He drags it through the tall grass and sets it down near the driveway. I think to offer my assistance but my nose is still a bit sore, so I stay with Lilah until she pulls herself out of the car and wipes her eyes.

  “Do you have a knife?” she asks me.

  I rush into my trailer and fetch one from the drawer for her. She uses it to trim a lock of Elijah’s hair and puts it in her pocket.

  I stand back as Dante and Lilah carry their brother across the driveway together. They lay him in the rowboat and fold his arms across his chest.

  The girl walks towards me and extends her hand. “I’m Lucy Vaughn.”

  I take it, quickly noticing the bandage around her wrist, and give her a soft shake. “Archer Allen.”

  Her eyes look just as red and swollen as Dante’s. It must be a powerful feeling; to be the woman a man like Dante Hart breaks down for.

  As she releases my hand, her eyes linger on her wrapped wrist and tears well in her eyes. She forces them down and stands a little taller before moving away to join the others.

  They decide to burn him.

  I don’t hear them discuss it. It’s silently understood between Dante and Lilah, although I assume they’ve all spoken to each other about what their wishes would be at one point or another. There’s no eulogy. No kind words spoken. Lucy circles the house once and gathers a handful of fresh flowers to lay around him. Dante fills the bottom of the boat with gasoline from a can he found in the shed by the lake.

  Lilah lights the match. I’ve had my eye on Lilah Hart for weeks now, follow
ing and watching as she does her job — and does it well — but I’ve honestly never seen her any stronger than this moment.

  As the flames rise, I stand beside her and take her hand. She squeezes my fingers and I feel a shake in her muscles but she powers through it without tears.

  Eventually, Dante breaks from Lucy’s embrace and turns to us. His eyes fall to our hands for a moment before he looks up again and nods.

  “Let’s get to work,” he says.

  ***

  Hell hath no fury, as they say.

  Though, I’m not sure these broken Harts are what they had in mind.

  I stand with my back to the wall in their living room. It’s a cozy house, not unlike what I always imagined a happy childhood would look like. Lilah sits in an armchair beside me while Dante and Lucy take the couch by the wall. I see bits of everyone’s personalities scattered about the house. Family photos. Old magazines. Yoga mats and ammo boxes.

  “I want to kill them,” Lilah says, hugging her knees. “All of them.”

  Dante shakes his head. “I get that, I do, but—”

  “But nothing, Dante. We can’t just sit here.”

  “Why not?”

  She gestures to me. “If Archer can figure out where we are, then they can, too. It’s only a matter of time.”

  His eyes flick up at me with annoyance. This man already has plenty of reason to despise me and I wish Lilah would stop reminding him of every single one of them, but…

  “She’s right,” I say. “Myra made mention of something happening next week. She didn’t say what, but the Boss wants to make sure you’re all dead before then, so they’ll be turning over every last stone until they find you.”

  Lilah nods. “We hit the road and keep moving.”

  “And how long will that last?” Dante asks.

  “For as long as it has to,” she argues. “Dante, I’m sorry. I know you wanted to settle down here but the fact of the matter is that you can’t. Not yet. Not until we take out the Boss.”

  He scoffs quietly. “Lilah, we don’t even know who the Boss is.”