“You always did have a thing for shitholes,” I commented dryly. “This is certainly up to par.”
He said nothing but held up a shot glass, tossed it back, and slammed it on the bar. Three glasses sat next to the bottle, full. I settled my back against the doorframe.
“Come on, old friend,” he teased, a prelude to a threat. He held out one of the remaining glasses. “To the women that anchor us.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn’t move, though, until I sensed someone approaching and spun to see. I squinted from the sting of the late morning sun. I could barely see the woman’s face before she brushed her chest against mine on her way through the door. The knife hidden at my back and the gun at my ankle burned against my skin as if to remind me I was armed.
“I struck the match,” she whispered conspiratorially before continuing around the bar to Reese. She kissed him on the jaw. “I started the fire. I wanted to stay and watch those traitors die, but sirens were getting closer and Paddy was badly hurt.”
“He’s not fucking Irish,” I snapped.
I noticed the ugly divots and purple scarring down one side of his neck from some serious, poorly treated burns. Not to mention the lobe of his opposite ear was just a scab—looked like it’d been bitten off.
Reese didn’t bother to react to the woman preening and pressing herself against him. His irises expanded with blackness. I wondered if he had ever been human.
My skin went cold as I studied her. I recalled Lucie’s description and realized who she was. Her hair was a different color now. And the tits were fake.
“Nina.”
Incited by the reaction she tried to hide, I used the surge to display confidence.
“Well, ain’t this a twisted pickle?” I asked with an accidental laugh at hearing my granddaddy come waltzing out of my mouth. Before I turned ten, I spent a few summers with him in his rickety shack of a place in Bayou LaFourche before he died. Until now, I’d forgotten I’d ever had a familial ally besides Drew.
I eyed Nina as she tried to decipher the southern turn of phrase. Reese’s lips curled in the subtlest smile, fake amusement to mask the apathetic monster within. It was familiar, to be sure, but somehow alien to me now—like seeing yourself from the outside.
I slid my boots farther inside along the dusty wood floors. Rage and loss bolstered me in my mission. This was for Lucie, first and foremost, but it was also for the Grey I used to be. My teeth ground together, and I inhaled sharply, proud and sick that I couldn’t wake up the numb fucker who’d taken over for the past ten years.
“So what the fuck happened to you, kid?” Reese asked, slathering on a coat of disappointment. “I taught you everything I knew, sculpted you into the perfect killer—other than myself, of course.”
“Such an honorable legacy,” I replied monotonously.
“Now look at you,” he continued, ignoring me, “chasing the tail of whatever animal they tell you to.”
One eyebrow spiked, and I nodded. “You are a bit like a coyote.”
He considered it, pursing his lips. “Yeah,” he agreed with pride. “I can see that. A coyote is a beautiful predator. No remorse, no mercy. It cannot stop until it’s killed its enemy, or is dead itself.”
“You don’t have enemies, Reese; you have targets.” My chest tightened. Lucie’s face passed in front of my eyes. I had to fight to keep my rage in check. The need to make sure this subhuman cancer never touched her again surged through me. I’d never felt more dangerous.
He pushed Nina away from his side, forcing her to play off the surprise. I watched angst corrupt the calm of her expression.
“True,” he admitted with a chuckle, leaning onto the bar. “And I heard about the contract on me after the Gideon job.” He added in a stage whisper, “Word travels fast in our circles, no?”
My expression turned to stone. Nina propped herself on top of the bar and smiled arrogantly at me. I held her eyes and waited. An awkward look washed over her and she shifted minutely.
I could still intimidate, so there was that.
I heard Reese cough a laugh behind her. She swallowed thickly. The woman who had once lived to protect Lucie, helped those who tried to kill her. For money she must have thought she was owed, I’d bet.
I began slowly advancing until I was a step in front of Nina. I beckoned her off her perch with a crooked finger, offering a whispered confidence. She looked me over, warily sliding down from her spot. She threw a look over her shoulder at Reese, but he simply pressed his lips together in lazy fascination.
She leaned in, her body vibrating with apprehension. I lifted my hands to grasp her chin. She jumped, ever so slightly. My words at her ear were quiet. “He would have killed you if I hadn’t.”
Her neck was broken before the fight could root in her limbs. As she dropped, I locked eyes with Reese. He scanned me for a reaction, but I wouldn’t let him see it. On the outside I looked bored, but the effort to appear so was titanic. Breath shuttled in and out. Blinking felt like slow motion, but beneath the surface, it was bedlam.
I wasn’t the same nameless ghost I’d been a month ago. I was raw and alive, unlike the past ten years, and it killed me to go backward. Literally. The pain was shocking and immeasurable. Remorse was not sadness. It was a wound to the soul that at its freshest felt as if it will never heal. I couldn’t comprehend how Lucie could love a cold bastard who could do what I’d just done, let alone the years up until we met. How could I be worthy of her?
I had to kill Nina. Not because I wanted to, and certainly not because it would matter to Reese, but because he was going to do it. The only way to dictate some command in this unholy clusterfuck was to make the first move. That meant eliminating complications.
“More tequila for us,” Reese muttered.
I stepped to the bar, grabbed a shot glass and threw it over my shoulder. His eyes followed its arc until a tiny splash preceded the sound of shattering glass.
He halfheartedly scowled at me. “You don’t like tequi—?”
“Cut the shit,” I snapped.
His cheek twitched with surprise. He threw one more shot back, mimicking me by tossing the empty glass over his shoulder. It bounced off the wall behind him and fell to the floor, cracking like an egg.
“I been waiting for you, kid.”
I rolled my eyes. No matter how sure of himself he acted, Reese was never as good at reading people as I was.
He leaned forward, peering over the bar at Nina’s crumpled form. He pursed his lips in an arrogantly amused pout and threw me a look of pride.
“I’m surprised at you, Ellicott,” he said, settling himself on his elbows. “Falling for my mark? That’s just sloppy.”
As if I needed a revelation about myself at the moment, I was nearly paralyzed with the realization that my love for Lucie drove me harder than repressing it. Love was a weapon, not a weakness. This was all for her.
“Sloppy is becoming the mark,” I replied, confident. “Like you have.”
He smiled, slimy and base. “I caught that. But you see, word got around.” He waved a hand around theatrically. “Your people told my people … yada yada.”
He was really grating my patience. At the edge of the bar, I stood with my left hip flush to the molding and twisted his shirt tight in my fist. After pulling him over the counter, I dropped him flat on his face. I shoved my knee into his back and twisted his left arm—and dominant hand—behind him until I heard a heavy snap. He shouted a foul slew of nonsense. When he spoke, it was only to patronize me.
“I see you’ve gotten faster, son,” he said, gritting his teeth.
With a snap of my free hand, I grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head back before slamming his face against the grimy tiles. Reese flipped and knocked my hold loose. His foot stomped at my chest, kicking me backward. It wasn’t enough for me to totally lose my balance, so I pulled the knife from my belt. My footing wasn’t solid, so the hasty flick of my wrist buried the blade high in his side. But n
ot high enough.
He grunted and fell to a knee. Pulling the short blade free with his right hand, he wrapped his fingers around the handle, tucked his broken arm to his chest, and lunged for me.
Too quick for him, I sidestepped his attack. I knocked the knife from his hand with the pop of an elbow, and it landed in front of the bar.
He grappled at my calves to pull me down. I brought my elbow down on his spine, which forced him to the ground. I turned and slipped on the blood pooling beneath him and then fell forward onto my forearms. His boot met my ribs, and I felt a crack.
When I looked up, he was almost to the back door. He turned to sneer at me.
“Running away?” I ground out as I got to my feet.
His upper lip curled. “Having a little fun,” he insisted.
I launched myself and rammed my shoulder into his injured side, his arm knocking against the door. He howled in pain as we broke through the door. Something sharp sliced my shoulder. He must’ve picked up a shard of glass. It wasn’t deep, but enough to force me to the ground.
“Your move,” he whispered, sickeningly close to the shell of my ear. He kicked my broken rib, sending another jolt of pain through me.
Staccato breaths hashed out a rhythm as I pushed to my feet. I followed the sparse trail along the back of the bar that led to the Battery. I heard car doors slam from the other side of the building. Maybe people actually worked at this shithole, but I didn’t have time to worry about what was left behind in there right now. I wasn’t going to kill Reese in plain sight of randoms, though, so I hurried to catch him.
Pressing a hand into my side, I bent over carefully to retrieve the gun inside my boot. As quickly as I could, I made my way along the path. I turned the corner with my weapon ready. Reese wasn’t there, but a blood trail was steps ahead. I followed it.
I was going to finish this.
Chapter Forty-Three
Lucie
GO
The drive wasn’t all that long, but the anxiety made it feel like it was forever. I tried to sleep, but with a stomach in knots and a head full of horrible images, it wasn’t happening. When we finally arrived, the sun had completely disappeared behind storm clouds.
“Jesus, it’s a ghost town,” Nash remarked. “I mean, it’s never been Times Square, but I literally see no sign of life. Are you sure about this, Red?”
“If this is where the Battery is, then yes, I’m sure,” I mumbled. I felt faces turn to look at me with concern, but I did my best to ignore them. “There! There’s a car parked outside that saloon. The blue Audi.”
“Did you seriously say ‘saloon’?” Vivi asked, snorting. “I love you so much.”
Scowling darkly, I took in our surroundings as we pulled up next to it. The saloon was a run-down pub that looked like it closed in the early eighties. Or should have.
Drew got out and checked the license plate. “Yeah, it’s a rental. That’s no help.”
It has to be Grey’s.
I threw myself against the door, taking no care to exit gently, kicking and scrambling until I was out of the vehicle, slamming the door shut. The car was within inches of my fingertips when I stopped cold as though touching it would mean something bad. I stared, waiting for it to tell me all the answers. A vague rumbling of voices gathered behind me, some of them asking what I was staring at.
Taking off like a shot, I rounded the corner and burst through the front door of the bar. It was empty, but there were several chairs overturned and broken, some shattered glasses, whiskey-stained linoleum, and blood. I walked to one side of the room near the end of the bar and saw someone on the ground. Panicking, I ran over to recognize Nina’s body, her head at an unnatural angle.
“I knew it,” I said, whispering to myself. “I knew she was bad.”
I turned away, too impatient to try to process this discovery, forcing bile back down my throat. After a solid breath or two, I returned my focus to finding Grey before it was too late. I zeroed in on a wet, crimson trail as though I could extract and identify the DNA with my eyes.
GO.
With a slight wobble, I stumbled along the trail through the dark kitchen and out the back door, which was barely hanging off a busted hinge. My lungs burned as I ran. All I could hear was
GO.
I pushed my legs to go faster. My arms swung. There was one goal, one task at hand, and whether I was alone or not, it didn’t matter.
GO.
It was my voice, the voice inside my head, rushing me along, dragging me to him. A magnetic force with a pull stronger than gravity. My knees pumped so fast it hurt, my body hurtled forward as I ran without any certainty. I wanted so badly to stop and just feel him here, to know that I wasn’t too late.
The storm was really close. Hard winds rushed past my ears, leaving no room for any sound but my nerves and maybe a distant hint of thunder. My heart may have stopped beating, or maybe it was a constant, quietly speeding whirr.
Then I saw it. The rounded concrete bunker. Battery Harris East. It looked like an open tomb. It loomed larger and wider before me, strangely ominous as I sped toward it.
I made it to the tunnel underneath the neglected structure and darted down the middle. Each thud of my foot against the ground, every swish of my arms past my ribs, and every single molecule of oxygen sandpapering my throat stole time as I ran. It was never fast enough.
I was so close.
Suddenly the world upended as I tripped on a rock and was roughly thrown to my hands and knees. My palms stung, punctured with dirt and gravel while my knees felt crushed. I looked up and I saw him.
“Grey!”
Once his name escaped my lips, it was all clear. I was already here. My preview was happening. And I couldn’t stop it. I was never going to stop it.
Chapter Forty-Four
Grey
Sound
As I was closing in, an unexpected sound stopped me dead. I could have sworn I heard my name. I turned toward it and my body followed. Lucie? I had to be delirious. I stared into her eyes, lost.
When I heard the gun shots, I knew I had failed her.
Chapter Forty-Five
Lucie
Don’t Go
I was still, screaming silently as my hands covered my mouth as if to take back my mistake.
My legs pushed me toward him, every awkward step a threat to my equilibrium. The world around me was silent, white noise accompanying the visual horror before me. I dropped to my knees once I reached his side, not feeling the rocks cutting my skin.
There was a lot of blood, some of it underneath him, but I was afraid to turn him over.
“Please,” I said. “Please don’t go.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Grey
Stop
The physical pain was intense, but fleeting. A point came where it felt as if my body no longer existed. Still, whatever I could see was acutely defined. The most beautiful, bright colors were even more extraordinary. The cacophony of dreamlike, disjointed memories was nonsensical as they sped by and stretched long like a melting filmstrip, clouded with age and dust.
Without warning, it would right itself every few seconds and drop me into the frame. I had an irrational sense of awareness as I occupied different versions of my fingers and toes and skin.
I was five. I was twelve. I was eighteen. Every time it pulled me away again, I didn’t want to leave. The jumble of incarnations were so different, but all me. Always me.
A wave of fire engulfed me, rolling me in its tide. Anger bubbled around me as the urge to fight made whatever I could see cloudy. I had the illusion I was screaming, shaking, but no reason to believe it to be true until everything went black and still.
Starting as just a hint of sound, barely restrained sobs pulled at me, but they weren’t mine. There was feeling in my limbs again, heavy and sore. A hard kick in the ribs slammed me back into my body.
The cry became a whine as the person’s throat tightened, trying to hide it as he sp
oke to someone. Jesus, Nash is crying.
My lungs seared with breath as I gasped, choking on blood. I must have hit my head when I fell. I could feel my pulse in my eyes and a crushing pain in my shoulder. An oppressive ache radiated all over me.
“Lucie?” It came out garbled and wet as if I’d drowned. I coughed a bit more, razorblades figure skating inside my chest. Breathing was incredibly painful, and I realized Reese might have nicked a lung with those shots.
Lucie appeared over me, her blinking gray eyes wet and puffy. And her hair was wild.
I couldn’t help it, I smiled.
“Sweet lips?” Her hands caressed my face, touching me so carefully. Her voice shook with an uneven mix of relief and anxiety. She scattered glances about my body with the speed of a terrified rabbit.
I could hear Drew and tilted my head slightly to the other side. His hands were covered in blood and pressed firmly to my chest. When he looked at me, it was guarded but not guarded enough. I was in bad shape.
My dirty, rough palms clasped Lucie’s delicately soft fingers and held them together like the physical embodiment of prayer. First kissing her fingertips, I laid our collective hands above my heart, trying to tell her it was hers even after it stopped beating.
“Sor—I’m—” Each attempted word was contested by my injuries and swallowed by coughs, which required me to suck in a knifelike breath between each, so neither were very unintelligible.
Drew pushed her back as he hovered over me. He looked like a little boy, my brother more than twenty years ago. I tried to grab his wrist, but I could no longer lift my arm.
“Quit trying to talk, asshole,” Drew barked at me. “Just breathe, for fuck’s sake.”
“Sorry,” I continued, ignoring him. Before I could force out anything else, Lucie’s lips were on mine, blessing me with undeserved forgiveness.
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