by Burns, Mandy
A tendril of fear cascades in slow inches down Colt’s spine. But the unfamiliar feeling isn’t for himself. His eyes do a quick shift to the woman next to him then back to Kulich.
“Abruzzi's not happy with you. From the beginning he’s been reluctant to link names with you but you offered more money. I spoke with him and he's willing to back me since I made it clear to him I was thinking of branching off with my own territory."
“That's bullshit. Everyone knows you fucking work for me. You're my glorified hit man, Colt. Don't you assume you hold more fucking weight around here than you do. I made you, asshole. I can just as easily destroy you."
“That's what I’ve led you to believe,” he hoarsely lets out. "You don't think your partners haven't offered me more power, more money to join them? I didn’t because I felt I owed you after what you—”
“Yeah, after what I did for you, you piece-of-shit!” Kulich’s chest rises higher and higher and Colt can taste the rage filtering out from the man in front of him. “I killed the president of the Royal Reapers—your fucking father!—after he tied you up and made you watch him rape and beat your mother to death right in fucking front of you! For you! I did that for you because I loved your mother. Had done since the day she and her family moved in next to mine when we were just kids. Told her not to marry your cunt of a father ‘cos she meant something to me so you meant something to me, Colt! And this—this is how you fucking repay me, you son-of-a-bitch!”
Becky gasps; Colt feels it in his very bones.
“Thought you were a man with conscience, who had some kind of soul."
“Like you?” Kulich says, shaky in his rage. “She’s gonna see someday you’re just as evil as your fucking dad so stop the fucking act!"
“I'm not the one acting! You're a desperate man, Vladimir. A man who can't handle the pressure of this business. You've become paranoid, a liability. Thought it was temporary but it's not. You and I both know it. The other partners see it. You're done."
“This is my payment for what I've done for you? Given you?!” Kulich's tone treads past the formality of his trademark control. “This is what I get back? After all the years I’ve given you—to allow you to be by my side!"
“You can have your precious empire back. Just give me Becky.” Colt is back to his dull whisper.
“How’d you know I won’t just kill her right now… before I even give her back to you, asshole."
Colt cocks one corner of his mouth up. "Because you'd be dead before you even moved to go for your gun. Don't forget, Vladimir—I'm a faster draw than you."
“What if I offered you more money than Abruzzi? More power?"
“Keep talking."
Colt ignores Becky as her eyes widen and fall on him. Kulich doesn’t catch it.
“I'll give you anything you want, more titles, you can have your own fucking territory, make decisions on contracts, whatever."
“And?"
Kulich pauses. “I get Spencer."
“Just Spencer,” Colt says, his eyes twinkling, his brow peaking in interest.
“Colt...” Becky can’t cover the disbelief in her voice. But Colt keeps his eyes firmly on Kulich knowing if they fall on Becky’s, his defences will crack.
“How will I know you won't retaliate on Becky and the rest of her family?"
“Send them the fuck away.” Kulich shrugs off the details, his stare back on the SUV to Colt's left. "Just like you were going to. I'll never know."
Scratching his jaw, Colt contemplates the deal they’ve just put together. “Okay."
Becky's voice tears through his body. “Colt, no!"
Kulich doesn’t waste anymore time. “Bring him out."
Colt's stare swings to the car before falling to the ground. “Spencer. Out. Now." Spencer Appleton doesn’t hesitate. His feet hit the pavement, the door lunging out. Colt plants a firm look his way. “Don't take another step." His eyes come back around to Kulich's. He still hasn’t looked at Becky. He can’t. Not yet. “Give me her."
Kulich doesn’t wait. He smirks shoving Becky at Colt. Stepping closer to Spencer, his eyes flitter up at the rooftop parallel to him.
Colt was right.
They’re not alone.
Colt grabs Becky, cupping her head with one hand and pushes her hair out of her face with the other to get a better look and see for himself that she’s okay. She watches her father willingly step toward Kulich.
“No, Dad! Colt, do something… No!” she cries out, desperately, as her body wriggles for freedom Colt won’t allow.
Kulich nods and his arm comes around to Spencer's shoulder as if reacquainting himself with an old, lost friend. “Mr. Appleton,” he greets with a wide smile. “It's about fucking time."
Kulich leads him to the limo and Spencer goes without resistance; his eyes never leaving his daughter’s. There’s only fatherly concern as he whispers, “I'm so sorry, Rebecca… for everything…"
Becky struggles, one arm whips out only to be suppressed at her side by Colt's iron clasp. “Please…” Her head falls forward. “Colt, stop them. Mr. Kulich… Please… whatever you want I can get it for you. Please, there are other ways!" Kulich turns as Becky's small quivering body shakes.
“Now we all have what we want,” Kulich says, his eyes taking a quick look above them both. “Good doing business with you, Colt. But if I were you, I’d fuck that little cunt in every way possible while you still can. I promised not to hunt them down. But I never said anything about you. You and me—this ain’t over. I’m gonna enjoy killing you and it’s gonna be slow and painful just the way you like it, huh, Colt?"
Colt remains the silent statue. He doesn’t answer. He knows Kulich isn’t looking for one because the man turns and sits inside the limo, closing the door. The engine grumbles to life before steering forward at an unhurried pace.
Colt and Becky watch, both still for entirely different reasons. Colt's eyes close tight; the time for thinking twice is done. Now he has to act and act without reservation. After all, he’s vowed to keep her safe.
Kulich has done exactly what Colt thought he would do.
He's taken the bait.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Colt…” she cries. Her forehead comes down to lean on his chest. The trembles of her body seep into his, but Colt forces himself still like he's tied down with invisible rope. Her head comes up again, strands of hair covering her face—
The ricochet of a bullet hits the brick wall opposite them. There's only a mere second for Colt to react properly.
Grabbing her by the wrist he pulls her. Whoever the shooter is, he’s a bad shot and luckily they aren’t far from the small awning of one of the back entrances of the shop in front. Colt doesn’t mean to be rough with her but he has no choice. He throws her with his arms around hers into the wall, securing them both under the small shield of the paper-thin blockade.
Another shot rings out, hitting the corner behind Colt's right. Becky freezes.
He presses himself into her, allowing a little more space between the shots and them. “Listen to me,” he orders. “I gotta get you out of here."
He lets go of her, knowing he has to and slides next to her, leaning his back against the wall, shoulder-to-shoulder with her. He peeks his head out to take a few undirected shots—let the guy know he's there and armed. With his other hand he retrieves his phone from his front pocket, finds the right buttons and dials blindly. The shooter, who is unidentifiable in black, moves over a bit, his shots closer to where they’re sheltered.
He pushes Becky with his shoulder and she moves along willingly, numb and pale by his side. He darts a look out, sees a glimpse of black and shoots a couple of more times before going back under the awning, putting the phone to his ear. Jenson picks up on the second ring. “Where're you?” Colt barks.
“I'm here. Right around the corner like you said to be."
Colt whispers calmly despite the danger looming over them, “Need you now. Take her and run."
The phone clicks and Colt breathes out, readying himself, gulping down what feels like gallons of much needed air. His lungs burn from the pressuring build up. He’s used to these moments, they're a part of him like anything else. But never once has he had a woman by his side.
A woman he would die for.
“Look at me." She complies immediately. “I need you to run when I say so." She nods her head. Colt takes that as a good sign. “The cars right there. It's unlocked. I'm gonna cover you. When I say go—you go."
Tint tremors quake the flesh of her lower lip. “O-Okay."
“Okay. You ready?"
“Yeah...” She swallows, slides her body in front of him. His hand comes around, molding her shoulder. He squeezes the skin tight, kisses the soft crown on her head.
“Go!” he whispers, fiercely.
She runs off like a jackrabbit and he follows, pointing his gun up and firing as he runs behind her. He hears the car door slam and the pinch of worry in his gut subsides an inch.
She's safe.
His hand curves around the car latch, his eyes shoot up. He fires randomly, hoping he hits something, but he's sure whoever is up there is probably waiting for him to get in the car to follow him. He throws the door open, turning the keys that are already in the ignition. Slicing the gear into drive, his foot is on the gas screeching forward as they race out of the alley.
The gun shots are more distant this time but feel only a scant breath away from them. Colt whips the large car around the corner, grateful it's in the middle of the night and not any other time. He looks to his side. Becky sits frozen and stiff next to him. They're in the car for what has to be ten seconds before he pulls behind another set of buildings. This time there is a truck waiting for them. The car stops. Colt kills the ignition and pushes the door open.
“Colt," says Jenson.
“Jenson.” Her voice sounds shattered like she’s been crying for hours. “What’re you doing here?” She hugs him and Colt tenses, feeling Jenson's awkwardness burgeon along with a flick of fire that courses through Colt's veins. He doesn’t waste time feigning the fact that he hates what he just saw, but he’s helpless and has to stay on track. He goes around the car, glances at Jenson, shifts his gaze to Becky, then back.
“Take her to her family."
“Kulich got a good head-start."
Colt nods. “Know where he's headed. I’ll be fine."
Not sparing them a second glance, Colt makes his way back to the SUV. Jenson nudges Becky forward but she remains stuck in place.
“Where… Where is he going?" she asks. When Jenson doesn’t answer immediately, Becky's stare whips around to his. “Jenson, tell me. Where is he going?"
Jenson shuffles a bit before answering, “To save your father."
Chapter Thirty
“ON YOUR KNEES.”
Kulich raises the gun and brings it against Spencer's forehead. Spencer obeys. The woods are dark and dense like something out of a gothic fairytale. The trees look evil, lurking over them. Kulich leans over, shoving the gun against Spencer's head, twisting the metal hole in so it makes an indent of a circle in his skin.
“I got a little secret for you. You think your family's safe? You think I'm gonna honor that deal I made with Colt?” Kulich snorts. “Don't bet on it. Men who aren't honorable aren't treated with honor. You betray me—don't think I won't do the same to you."
“No please,” Spencer begs. “Please. Please don't kill them. Whatever I did, they don't need to be punished for it. Please, Mr. Kulich, I’m begging you."
“Too late, Spencer. You shouldn't have crossed me. Now you all have to pay for your fucking sins."
“I didn't mean to. I'm sorry!”
“If you're a praying man, Mr. Appleton, you'd better start. Because you're about five seconds away from meeting your maker."
“Please. Please…"
"Maybe God will be more merciful in Heaven. I, on the other hand, need to see you suffer. Now."
“Drop it."
Kulich whirls around.
“Whoa, whoa, Colt.” Kulich brings his hands up, goes to move closer to him but Colt aims his gun higher. Kulich backs away. “What the fuck are you doing?"
“Drop the gun.” There is no trace of feeling in his order. He is mechanical in his delivery.
The gun slips from Kulich's finger, falling between the two men. Colt retrieves it, never taking his eyes or his gun off his former boss.
"You gave me your goddamn word!"
“I lied,” comes Colt's automatic response.
Eye's bugging out, Kulich shoots out, ” You owe me this you son-of-a-bitch!"
“He doesn't deserve this!” Colt shouts over him, his tone deceptively unmarked by the growing confliction inside him. “Neither does his family."
“Fuck them! He took from me!” Kulich points to Spencer who remains still with fear.
Placing Kulich's gun in the back of his jeans, Colt's stare never wavers. “He did what he had to. To save his family."
“So that's it?” Kulich rages. “You're just gonna let this lying motherfucker go? That's not how I taught you to deal with things."
“Maybe I learned a few things on my own.”
“What happened to you, Colt?” Kulich's voice dips.
Colt shrugs off the surprise hit of nostalgia. “People change."
“You don't. You never wanted to."
“Maybe I want to now,” Colt points out. “Maybe I've seen what a life outside this one can be like."
Kulich eyes the gun, shifts nervously in place. Colt never thought he would see the day. The day when Vladimir Kulich would be scared shitless.
“You can't be serious."
“All I know is you're not gonna make Becky fatherless,” Colt warns.
“So where’s that leave me?” Kulich asks, his eyes trained on the gun as if it will go off at any second. "You're not… Colt, come on."
“I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be like this… I didn't..."
“That's it. That's it?!” Kulich yells. “You're just gonna fucking kill me?"
“I heard what you said about Becky and the rest of her family,” Colt says, his voice becoming as dark as the night that encompasses them. "This fucking world needs people like Becky and less scum like us! Don’t you see? I can't let you live knowing you’ll come after her."
Colt watches Kulich rummage for an excuse. “C’mon, man, I only said that to scare him. I didn't mean it."
“You're lying."
“Colt.” Kulich's hands come up as if that lone gesture will explain away his behavior.
Fishing the keys from his pocket, Colt throws them at Spencer. They drop near his knee and Spencer picks them up, looking confused.
”Go to the car. Wait for me there." Colt jerks his head in the direction of the vehicle that’s somewhere behind them, passed all the trees. Spencer doesn’t hesitate to move.
The echo of his hurried steps linger musically around them. Kulich wants to move, Colt can sense that. His whole face is an open book, a plethora of emotion: fear, anger, disbelief, pain, regret, loss, and hurt. Colt sees it all, unwilling, uncaring, but forces to partake in the moment with him.
Kulich is after all the only father he's ever truly had. And what Colt has to do next… he knows it will haunt him till his last dying breath.
“You're gonna kill me?”
“You're not leaving me a choice,” Colt murmurs. He makes himself breathe, a dizzying sensation trapping itself in his body. “I'm... sorry."
Kulich's shoulders straighten. “Fuck you.”
“I'm sorry,” Colt hears himself say again as he cocks the gear back.
“You're gonna fucking pay for this,” Kulich threatens. “Maybe not by me but you’re gonna drag that fucking bitch into this life and one way or the other, you’re gonna get her fucking killed just like your mother!” Kulich comes a step closer, the leaves crunching beneath his shoes. “You’re all gonna fucking pay."
>
The second Colt feels the slightest bit of doubt, he knows he can’t wait.
The single shot hits Kulich right between the eyes. He goes down instantaneously. Flying back in the air from the force of the bullet he lands in a thud on his back, sprawled out like the perfect white outline of a dead body in a crime scene.
Colt wipes his brow, the nausea in his stomach cramping him, sending him hunched forward on his knees. But he refuses to let this situation get the better of him. He isn’t going to fall, turn weak-kneed. He did what he had to do.
For Becky.
His face, inches from Kulich's, stares back at the man. The man he had called his friend, his confidante, his savior... is dead.
His face, in death, is peaceful. Maybe wherever Kulich is now he is free from the demons that made him who he was. For some reason, Colt needs to believe that to walk away.
He notices a small grin on Kulich's mouth and suddenly he remembers his last words.
Pay.
Colt shakes his head. He knows he’s going to pay.
He already is.
Chapter Thirty-One
HE DOESN’T LIKE HOW HE FEELS. All garbled, like his brain has been sucked out of his ear with a straw.
He guesses killing the man he idolized since he was seventeen, the man who saved him from his abusive smack-head father, the man who avenged his mother, could be the cause. But if he’s halfway truthful with himself, it has a lot more to do with what comes next.
Colt turns the wheel and enters the abandoned airstrip. Spencer Appleton hasn’t said a single word. Good. Right now he needs a little bit of peace.
A small black Lincoln is parked behind the side of the building with the headlights off. The doors swing open and Jenson steps out first. Becky appears from the passenger seat. She closes the door, places one hand on the roof of the car and a stalemate emotion scatters across her face. The mother is holding the baby, his little feet are latch around the side of her torso. He’s playing with the front button of her shirt. They walk forward but then begin to jog.