The ease with which he said the word, the utmost certainty in his statement stole the last of her sanity.
“You killed people for money?” she asked, yet the words sounded muddled in her head.
He nodded.
“You killed people for money.”
“Ya.”
“You have killed people. Dead. Like dead-dead. For money,” she repeated slowly, enunciating each syllable.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and the little emotion that had shown on his face completely disappeared as he said clear enough for her to have no doubt, “Yes.”
Okay, so her boyfriend was not only a vigilante but also an alien with superpowers, oh and killed people for money.
Fuck the straw that broke the camel’s back, this was a frickin’ bulldozer dropped on a tiny glass figurine. She was done.
Bile rose in her throat and she swayed on her feet as the room closed in around her. “I’m gonna be sick,” she mumbled.
Red and black swirled in her vision. Somehow she managed to stumble toward the bathroom, ricocheting off the doorjamb into the wall. The doorknob nailed her in the side as she fell to the floor.
He killed for money.
The contents of her stomach ran up and down her esophagus as the words barreled like a runaway freight train in her mind.
He killed for money.
To fall for an adulterer was one thing, but a murderer? A hired gun? What was wrong with her! What kind of person falls in love with someone who has no regard for human life? Human. Ha! Maybe that was the key. He was a fucking alien from fucking outer space!
Her throat was raw, her abdomen on fire and her head fit to explode as she struggled for air and collapsed against the cool plastic toilet seat.
“Ariel?” Bale rested his hand on the middle of her back.
A murderer’s hand.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me,” she repeated in a shriek and batted his hand away.
How could she ever have thought his hands were gentle? Hands that had brought her to a pleasure so high, she never wanted him to let go. Blood stained those hands and now they stained her conscience.
He came at her again. “Ari—”
“Don’t fucking touch me!” Her shoe flew off as she kicked in the direction of his shape. Next was the wastebasket, an easy-to-reach projectile, then the toilet brush. Whatever she could lay her hands on she threw at him as she screamed for him to leave until she tasted blood and her vocal cords gave out.
Even after the front door closed and she was left alone, great gasping sobs ripped from her throat. The reaction was irrational, insane, completely over the top. Any moment the men in white coats were going to burst in and lock her away and she’d completely understand why, but no matter how hard she tried to gain some semblance of control, her brain refused to process the command, too fried to comprehend the slightest bit of information. Well, all except for one fact.
He killed for money.
Ever so slowly, her vision returned and the outline of the ceiling fan came into focus. At her feet the bathroom door stood open, revealing an empty living room where Bale had stood and shattered her world. She worked her foot around until her toes touched the door and she pushed, shutting her inside the darkness.
That was two doors between her and Bale’s ugliness. How many more would it take before she could find the strength to lift her head? To move? To breathe?
To live?
Chapter Eleven
Bale lay in the hallway outside Ari’s apartment and dropped the barrier on his emotions to be doused in all her pain. Tears streamed down his face and his throat ached in sympathy as Ari wailed inside. Her howls were much the same as his had been when he had found the bodies of his family. His vocal cords had healed, but his voice had never been the same again, just as he had never been the same.
Just as Ari would never be the same. The world she knew no longer existed, and he was the destroyer. Another death that rested squarely in his hands. While he never struck her physically, she now carried the scar of her injury for all to hear every time she spoke.
Of course he knew Ari’s reaction to his truth was not going to go well, but the absolute devastation that tore her asunder flayed him to the bone. But it wasn’t her anger at him that stabbed him in the heart but the hatred she harbored against herself.
He could hear her thoughts now. How could she have let a monster touch her, love her? She must be broken or twisted in order to have felt affection for such evil.
He wanted to scream at her, shake her until she realized that nothing was wrong with her, that she was perfect. That her love for him was magic.
And now it was gone.
Even if he had wanted to keep the truth from her, deep down he knew he was on borrowed time. Sooner or later he’d have to come clean and face the repercussions of his actions, both on Skandavia and Earth. Prolonging the ruse was only going to make the moment more difficult, impossible as it was to imagine. As it was, he felt as if he were stripped of his flesh and dipped in acid.
“Bale.” The soft sweep of a hand against his cheek brought his eyes open.
Amaryllis knelt by his side and Lucian stood behind her. Both had the same expressions of worry and devastation carved upon their faces.
“What happened?” Lucian asked. His gaze went to the door as Ari’s cries came to an abrupt end.
“She knows.” He shook his head and curled into a ball. “Everything.”
“Everything?”
“All of it. The fucking Claymore. Skandavia. Natalia and Emmaline. The killing. All of it,” he gritted out.
“Jesu. No wonder the poor girl sounds gutted.”
“Lucian,” Amaryllis gasped.
“It’s the truth.”
“Doesn’t matter. Bale.” Her hand moved to stroke his hair. “Do not fret. All will be well.”
He grunted and shook his head harder. “She hates me. But she hates herself more.”
“That’s not true. She loves you. That is why she’s in so much pain. In time, she will remember why she loves you and will forgive you.”
“No. No. Can’t you feel her? She’s shattered.”
“And she will heal.” She pulled his hair when he tried to argue. “The girl has been dealt quite a shock. Have faith, my friend.”
Faith? The only faith he had was that Ari would hate him forever. What person in their right mind would ever love…him?
“Do not give in to self-pity, Balellanos. I can feel you slipping away. I will not allow you to lay about on the floor and believe the worst. Lucian, take him to our home. I’ll stay with Ari.” She cupped his face between her hands. Her eyes burned bright with determination until they glowed with silver light. “I am not saying it will be easy or quick, but Ari will see the truth of your heart. And hers.”
She had seen the truth and it broke her.
But he bit his tongue. It was useless to argue with Amaryllis. If tenaciousness had royalty, she’d be the undisputed empress of all. Any attempt to convince her otherwise was just wasted effort.
He waved away Lucian’s outstretched hand and slowly climbed to a stand. Using the wall as a crutch, he shuffled toward the waiting elevator with Lucian trailing behind as a parent would do with a toddler just learning to walk. As the doors slid shut, he saw Amaryllis slip into the apartment.
“You do know that Amaryllis will not leave Ari’s side. No matter how much Ari may protest.”
“Ya.” That was what he was counting on, otherwise he wouldn’t have dared leave Ari vulnerable in her condition.
“Will you fight for her, Bale?”
He turned a confused eye toward his general. “Ari? There is nothing left to fight for.”
“Then you never appreciated what you had and don’t deserve her.”
His hand clenched into a fist, ready to strike the bastard in the face. If this was his way of trying to make him feel better, his delivery was shit.
“Look, Bale, no one hates yo
u more than you, and until you stop with the self-flagellation, you will never be able to accept that another can find you worth loving.” He snorted. “Loving. I should say worth giving a shit about. Prove to Ari that you are not the monster you painted yourself to be. Prove you are worth her love. I speak from experience. The sooner you forgive yourself, the sooner she will forgive you.”
It wasn’t that simple. The blood on his hands would never wash away.
“Hey.” Lucian laid a hand on his shoulder. “Remember when Amaryllis whipped us? She said that we were blessed with the gift of today and the promise of tomorrow. Be thankful for that, Bale. Make tomorrow better than today. You are a Llanos warrior. Handpicked by me, and when I was in command, the Llanos never gave up.”
Lucian’s reasoning was too simple. While the Llanos may have not always won, it wasn’t for lack of trying. But how did one begin to remove the taint of such sins? To pay for the crimes committed on another planet?
“Believe, Bale. Believe in Ari.”
“I broke her.”
“And you can put her back together, just as she has done with you. She is a strong woman. Have faith.”
Faith. To Bale faith was as elusive as striking the last paper match while standing in the deepest, wettest cave and expecting it to last long enough to guide your way to the light. Faith was for those who had nothing.
Just like you.
He sighed. Yes, he did have nothing. Well, nothing but love for a woman who probably rued the day she ever met him. Perhaps he and Ari were through, but the least he could do was prove that she wasn’t the broken one, that her love for him made him want to be a better man. The question now was how?
The idea stuck so fast, he jerked with the impact as the elevator doors slid open on a hush, revealing the front door of Lucian’s apartment. With a jaw clenched in determination, he pushed the button for the ground floor.
“Keep in contact,” Lucian said with a smile. “I’ll update you if there is any change with Ari.”
He nodded. “Thank you. Brother.”
Lucian slapped him on the back and wished him luck as he ran out into the night. Transportation was not important, for he knew exactly where to go and once he arrived, he wasn’t going to be leaving anytime soon.
Two miles away he reached his destination and sprinted up the concrete steps, striding through the door with a decisive swagger. The few people occupying the lobby backed away with wide eyes and open mouths, allowing him unfettered passage to the front counter.
“Can I help you?” the woman asked through the safety glass with a tilt of her head. He noticed one of her hands remained under the countertop, her finger probably resting on the button of an alarm.
“Tell Captain Marco DeWinter he has a visitor.”
“Is he expecting you?”
His lips twitched. “Oh, he’s expecting me all right.”
* * * * *
When it came to holding perfectly still, Bale was a master. It was his ability to wait and watch without making the slightest flicker of movement that made him so good at his previous occupation. But sitting on the worn-out loveseat in what appeared to be a waiting room of the city’s police department was driving him to insanity. His skin itched as sweat trickled down his hairline and his hearts raced. He flicked so many glances at the closed door, the muscles of his eyes were starting to tire and his jaw ached from clenching his teeth to keep from fidgeting.
Something was amiss. When he had announced his arrival at the police station, he anticipated a dozen, if not two, armed officers to instantly surround him with weapons aimed at his head. To be politely escorted to a waiting area and offered a cup of coffee had not been a possibility. The reaction was strange, and strange was bad. Strange meant endless possibilities and endless was dangerous.
The click of the doorknob turning made his spine straighten. Captain DeWinter entered the room, looking cool and unruffled. Well, at least his demeanor appeared unruffled. His blazer and shirt were creased as if he’d been sleeping in his clothes, but nothing of what he was feeling showed on his face. Even his emotional signature was steady, revealing more curiosity than triumph at closing a case.
DeWinter pushed the door shut and turned the lock before taking a seat in the chair directly facing him. “What are you doing here?”
Odd question. Odd was bad too.
“I am the Claymore you have been searching for and I am turning myself in.”
“I can see that, Bale… Do you have a last name?”
“My name is Bale.”
“Fine, Bale no last name. Why are you turning yourself in?”
“I must pay for crimes I have committed.”
“Why?”
He bit back a surprised gasp as his head jerked. “What do you mean, why?”
“I mean why? You’ve been running around town, looking more than content about doing your own thing. Why turn yourself in now?”
“What does it matter?” Who was the insane one now? The man was being given a gift and he questioned it?
“I’m curious.”
Then he could damn well stay curious.
With that, the stare down began. Two foes locked in a silent battle for domination of the situation.
DeWinter was good, he’d give him that. A slow blink now and again, but otherwise the man didn’t flinch as their gazes locked as if they were engaged in an arm-wrestling match with both sides pressing flesh to flesh with all they had and neither giving an inch. However, the captain never spent two years zipping through the galaxy enclosed in a capsule meant for a man half his size. He didn’t stand a chance of winning this battle.
At the eight-minute mark DeWinter broke his stare with a smile. “Gonna make me guess, huh? Hmm… I think… I think I got to your girlfriend. Ari, right? She’s cute. Smart too. She might not have known about your alter ego, but when I showed her your photo, I noticed she pieced it together right away. So she confronted you, threatened to leave if you don’t put an end to it, and now you’re here trying to make her happy. You must care for her very much.”
The captain’s observations hit him like poisoned-tipped arrows. The guessing game was a waste of time. He had come to accept his punishment, not sit and discuss his motivations.
He rose to a stand and held out his hands. “I am here to pay for my crimes.”
“Sit down, no name.” DeWinter waved his hand and settled back in his seat. “Look, believe it or not, I don’t give a shit as to whether you’re captured or not. So you’ve stopped a few crimes here and there and have crippled some dumbasses who probably deserved it. I don’t care about them. You’ll get, what, a year, for obstruction of justice? Community service if you have no priors? A slap on the wrist for reckless endangerment? Big deal. The only reason the city’s after you is because you’re making the suits at the top look bad.”
“What about you? You’ve been tasked to capture me. Don’t you want to succeed?”
“I did catch you.” He laughed. “That’s why you’re here. I just didn’t get the chance to arrest you and make the information public.”
“Arrest me now.”
DeWinter shook his head. “You’re not who I want.”
The sudden shift in his tone and emotions from curious to deadly serious made Bale’s entire being go quiet as he waited for the captain to continue.
“I was pulled off a case to hunt you down. A case I’d been working on for three years.” He tilted his head. “Does the name Smithwick ring a bell? If you’re as close to the Kilsgaards as I think you are, it should.”
He gave a slow nod. Just what was the captain after?
“Tell me what you know.”
“He’s a crime boss. Drugs, human trafficking. Very elusive.”
“And…”
“And what?”
“The Kilsgaard connection…” he led.
“He had Fiona Kilsgaard kidnapped last year.”
“Correct.” DeWinter leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.
“When I helped your friend the Chameleon with her release, that was the closest we came to nailing Smithwick. You call him elusive. I say he’s slippier than a greased pig at the county fair. I have this hunch that even after I close the case on you, I won’t be back on the Smithwick case. Right now my commander is burying it deep in the cold case files, never to be seen again.”
“Why?”
“Time, money, manpower, ability to make the charges stick, he’s on the take. Perhaps all of the above. They’re going to let that man walk and be content with putting out the little fires caused by the sparks of Smithwick’s operation instead of snuffing out the source.”
“And what does this have to do with me?”
“I’ve seen video of you in action. You move like the Chameleon. I can’t touch Smithwick, but you can. You can track him down and finish him once and for all.”
His stomach soured as his nostrils flared. “What exactly are you asking me to do, Captain?”
“I want him gone. However you make that happen, is up to you.”
“Whatever you may think of me, I do not kill for sport,” he spat.
“I hope you don’t kill, period, otherwise we will have issues. I just want Smithwick somewhere he can’t do any more business.”
He released a slow breath and with it some of his anger. He should be used to people thinking the worst of him by now. “This case has become personal to you.”
DeWinter raised a surprised brow. “What makes you say that?”
“A soldier follows orders. Only when it becomes personal, strikes a nerve, does he disagree and fight. Smithwick has become personal. Why is that? I do not sense it is about your pride at not being able to close this case.”
The captain shifted in his seat. “He’s a bad man and needs to be taken off the street.”
“I am not a child, Captain. You are asking me to commit a crime. Why?”
He sighed and seemed to deflate in his seat like a party balloon. The touch of gray in his hair seemed more pronounced as did the lines around his mouth as he said, “Because I’m tired. I’m tired of adding another name of a girl who has disappeared during a night out with her friends to the long list of missing persons. I’m tired of having to tell another family member, like my sister, that their boyfriend, husband, son, brother, died of an overdose from drugs they bought from one of Smithwick’s dealers. I’m tired of scraping another would-be thug off the street because they thought they could run with the big man and failed. I am tired.”
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