Otherwise Unharmed

Evan Arden Trilogy - 3

by

Shay Savage

This one is for Savage’s Street Walkers—my street team—who encouraged and harassed me to write more every day and get it all completed on time and for all those who love Evan Arden and wanted to hear more of his story.

Special thanks to everyone who helped pull this together: Chaya and Tamara for their marvelous editing, Adam, Holly and Jada for the fabulous artwork for the cover and video, and Spatcave Studios for the use of the Barrett M82. I couldn’t have gotten it done without all your help!

Chapter 1—Lost Soul

It’s fucking bright.

Even though the lights had just been turned on, I was already sitting up in the rough, uncomfortable bed that was one of many in the Metropolitan Correctional Center of Chicago’s medical unit.  It had been quiet up until a moment ago when the daytime workers arrived and the day guard took the place of the one on the night shift.  I could hear words being spoken as shifts changed, but I didn’t pay attention to their meaning.  Everything happening outside of me was too much to take.  There was enough going on inside my head at that moment.

Shots, explosions, the recoil of my Barrett M82 sniper rifle against my shoulder, and blood.

I shifted my arm, and the chain to the handcuff around my wrist rattled against the railing on the side of the bed.  The feeling made me tense a little, like it did every time I moved, and I began to feel a little dizzy and lightheaded.  I hadn’t slept more than an hour or two since I’d been brought here.

Two days ago?  Three?

Initially, the doctor at the prison insisted on sedating me.  The forced sleep and the accompanying dreams were the worst I had ever had, and I refused all other medication after that first time.  I knew at some point my captors could get a court order to force me to take them, but as long as I was reasonably cooperative, that would take some time.  I was certainly all right with waiting as long as possible.  I had never liked taking drugs of any sort.

Maybe by then I would be able to control the memories again.  I had learned how before—even without having someone sleeping beside me or having drugs in my system.  Not long after I left Virginia and moved back to Ohio, I had managed to control the dreams.  How had I done that?

“You’re damn good with that thing,” Jonathan says.

“Lots of practice,” I respond.  “It’s about the only thing that keeps me calm, you know?”

“Yeah, that’s what you’ve said.”  He crushes his cigarette into the ground before crouching down next to me.  “Do you ever think about…you know…shooting people?”

“All the fucking time,” I mutter as I pull back on the trigger and send another shot into the makeshift target at the far end of the open field behind Jonathan’s house.

“Could you?” Jonathan presses.  “Could you really shoot a person like that?”

“I have,” I remind him.  “Many times.”

“But you were deployed then.  What about now and with a different sort of enemy?”

I think for a moment, and the woman with the dull gray eyes that sparkled as she talked about opening up a fucking flower shop poked out from behind the other memories.

“Yeah, I could still do it,” I say.

Jonathan seems to contemplate for a moment, and as I am about to fire again, he speaks up.

“I got someone who wants to meet you.”

It seemed liked a hundred years ago when Jonathan first brought me to Rinaldo Moretti’s office.  In reality, I had only been doing hits for the crime lord for a couple of years.  I wondered how many people I had killed for him and decided the exact number was best left to ambiguity.

A muscle spasm in my back caused me to pull from my thoughts long enough to move a little to the left for some relief.  I refused to think about the cold metal connecting me to the bed and preventing a lot of movement.  I tried not to let it remind me of being in a hot, reeking hole somewhere in the vast deserts of the Middle East.  I tried to tell myself it wasn’t the same at all.  If I had been turned on my front instead of on my back, or if I had been kneeling, keeping the memories from my mind would have been impossible.  As it was, the thoughts still lingered, pounded at the front of my skull, and demanded access into my brain continuously.

It was hard to fight it, and sometimes I gave in out of sheer exhaustion.

There was a part of me inside—probably the one part that still remained of whoever I may have once been—that knew I had cracked.  I was mentally shut down and physically non-responsive, but I still knew the meaning of the words “comatose” and “possibly suicidal” when I heard them spoken.  None of it mattered, but I still understood.  I was just too locked inside the continuous cascade of memories to care about what was going on anywhere outside of myself.

The door slid open with a clang, and I glanced toward the sound, but I couldn’t say that I actually saw anything going on in my vicinity.  At least, I didn’t see or hear enough to actually pay attention to it.  All my thoughts and my focus were internal.

How did I get here?

I wasn’t stupid.  I also wasn’t so far gone to not remember the basics of what happened.  After serving my tour of duty as a Marine sniper in the Middle East coupled with eighteen months as a prisoner of war, being exiled to Arizona for screwing up a hit for my mob-boss, spending too much time thinking about the girl I met there, and killing my favorite hooker for betraying me, I’d finally lost it and started shooting up the neighborhood.

It hadn’t been my very best plan, but then again, I hadn’t been in the best frame of mind.  Without Bridgett the hooker lying next to me, I couldn’t sleep.  It had already been more than a week since I had managed a decent night’s rest when I found out Bridgett had been telling my nemesis, Terry Kramer, privileged information I had babbled in my sleep.  After I killed them both, I hadn’t slept at all.

“I didn’t mean to…didn’t fucking mean to…”

I did, though.

My chest seized up, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe.  I could see the terror in her eyes as I dragged her from my car to the storeroom in the basement of Moretti’s office.  I heard her pleading with me to let her go and felt her blood splatter against my shoulder as I shot her.

She had trusted me, depended on me, and in the back of my head, I knew she had feelings for me neither one of us was willing to acknowledge.  And in return, I put a bullet in her head.

Why did I do it?

There was no answer.

What brought me to that point, that moment?

The question was more metaphorical.  I hadn’t started off so bad, so how did I end up where I was today?  Raised in a convent by a bunch of nuns, emancipated at seventeen, and left to my own devices, I had joined the Marines so I could serve my country as one of the best snipers ever trained.  I was field promoted to Lieutenant in the middle of a firefight.  All in all, not the worst start in life.  But then I had lost my entire unit to insurgents, was taken prisoner, and tortured for a year and a half.

After I had been rescued, I came back with bruises, muscle atrophy to the point where I needed help walking at first, and a dislocated shoulder.  Aside from those minor injuries, I was perfectly fine when they brought me back from the Middle East via a German military hospital outside of Munich.  I remembered hearing the words on the television when my little soldier story was getting a lot of media play.

“Lieutenant Evan Nathanial Arden, Marine sniping expert, brought home with minor injuries and muscle atrophy, but otherwise unharmed.”

It wasn’t until after I came home that everything went wrong on the inside: kicked out of the Marines, based on a diagnosis from a doctor who mostly wanted to write a bestselling book, and eventually hooking up with a guy who led me into my current line of work—sniping for the Chicago mafia.

Catholic schoolboy gone bad.

My caseworker was nearby, talking to the unit manager of my cellblock about when I might be moved to the general prison population.  I heard her say Mark Duncan, the name of the military shrink who was assigned to my case after my discharge.  He had apparently been calling about me and was likely going ballistic because he didn’t see any of this coming.  He took pride in his work, and he thought he had been helping me.

Maybe he had been helping; it just wasn’t enough.

Traci, my caseworker, was a chunky, blonde woman in her mid-thirties.  She leaned over to look in my face as she spoke, but her words weren’t interesting enough for me to pay attention to them.  Her hand touched my arm, and even though part of my psyche wanted to scream and flinch from the touch, I didn’t move.

I didn’t see the point.

How many hours or days had passed since I had been taken down and dragged from my apartment didn’t really register.  I didn’t think it had been all that long, but time didn’t have a lot of meaning for me.  My actions during that day replayed in my mind a lot—the look in Bridgett’s eyes as I fired my gun into her face, the desire to shoot everyone on a bus going up Michigan Avenue, and then eventually blowing the shit out of a noisy parking garage door; the terror of being shoved to the ground as the SWAT team took me into custody, begging someone to just kill me, followed by the relief I felt when I realized Odin, my Great Pyrenees, was all right; the ambivalence of seeing Lia in the hallway and knowing she was watching me as I was dragged off in handcuffs was enough to turn my brain inside out.

Lia Antonio.

She was the beautiful, dark-haired woman who found herself at my cabin in Arizona during my exile.  She ended up in my bed and in my head far more than I expected or even wanted.  Now, I clung to thoughts of her as much as I could—everything else I thought about was too full of gunshots, sirens, and blood.

I didn’t know how she managed to find me, and the serendipity of finding me at that place at that moment was fantastic.

As my thoughts raced around in my head, I heard the heavy footsteps of other inmates and prison staff as they moved around the infirmary, around beds and desks, and eventually out into the hallway.  The things going on around me registered as they happened; they just didn’t have any meaning for me.  I didn’t care.  I didn’t want to be a part of any of that.

I still regretted not taking a life—if I had done that, they would have killed me.  If they had killed me, I wouldn’t be here now, wondering how the fuck I got myself into such a mess.  I was supposed to go far—be smarter than this.  I was supposed to have my whole life ahead of me.

“You’re a bright boy, Evan,” Mother Superior says.

I know she’s right.  I’ve learned more in the past couple of years than she even realizes.

“You’re going to go far.”

“Just sign the papers,” I say as I push them across the desk and closer to her.  As soon as her scrawl is over the bottom line, I bring them back toward me and slide them into a brown envelope.  “Have fun with the next one.”

“Evan, you know-”

“Don’t,” I interrupt.  “Just don’t do that.  You know it’s crap as much as I do.  You got what you wanted, and now I have what I want.  Let’s leave it at that, okay?”

She sighs as she looks at her hands on the desk.  I half expect her to start rubbing at the rosary around her neck, but she doesn’t.

“What are you going to do now?” she asks.

“It’s pretty straightforward for an educated guy with no money,” I say with a shrug.  “I’m going into the military.”

If they had killed me, I wouldn’t have seen Lia again.

Though the memories seemed ancient considering everything that had happened since my time in Arizona, I could still clearly see the look of desire in her eyes as her hand caressed my abs.  The sound of her soft moans as I filled her ran through my head, and the feeling of her flesh against mine made everything else bearable.

Almost.

Then I would remember the bodies of my unit sprawled on the ground, the realization that one of my own had given up our location to the enemy, and the taste of sand filled my mouth again.  My stomach tightened involuntarily, and I sat up slightly as my body tried to double itself over.  I squeezed my eyes shut and didn’t even try to stop the memories.  It didn’t work anymore, anyway, and it was too much effort to try to control it any longer.

Up on the roof of the base, rifle at my shoulder, I can see a figure walking in the distance, and I set my sights on him.  As the crosshairs focus on his head, I can tell he is nothing more than a kid—maybe fourteen or fifteen.  Through the scope, my view of him is crystal clear. His clothing is dirty and torn, there are smudges on his face, and a bruise over his left cheek. His eyes hold resolved terror.

He doesn't want this. He's going to do it, but he doesn't want it.  He’s holding his arms out at his sides at an awkward angle, and it’s obvious he has something strapped under his arms and around his waist.  When I refocus between his eyes, I can see tears in them.

I lower my eyelids for a moment before I secure my aim and fire.

One memory followed another as I remembered running through a hailstorm of bullets to pull my unit’s communication officer out of the line of fire.  The captain of the unit was hit and unconscious, and I became the first Marine in years to earn a field promotion from staff sergeant to second lieutenant right there on the dunes.  Carrying my captain over my shoulder, I led my unit out of the firefight and back to base.

With exactly seven weeks under my belt as a lieutenant, I’m staring at the bodies of all my comrades as they lie there in the sand.  I feel slightly dizzy, and my stomach churns as I realize it’s not a dream, a hallucination, or a trick of the light.  A slight sound behind me registers but not before I feel a sharp pain in the back of my head.

I gripped my hands into fists, tightening the muscles in my arms as I tried to pull them across my chest.  All I got in response was the constriction of the cuffs around my wrists and the clanging sound of the chains against the bedrails.

My wrists are tied so tightly I can’t feel my hands.  I’m sure if I could see them, they would be blue or black or some other unnatural color.  I’m glad they’re behind my back so I can’t watch.  As my hands go numb, the pain in my shoulders from my arms tied together increases a thousand fold.  I wish I could pretend it’s all a nightmare, but I know it’s real.  There’s no getting out of this.

The very concept of “pride” is completely foreign to me now, and I no longer care how it looks or sounds.  I scream and beg as they throw me back into the hole.

I didn’t open my eyes but squeezed them shut so tightly my head was beginning to pound.  I flexed my hands once to prove to myself I could still move them, but it made the cuffs tighten a bit more.  I could feel a scream building in my throat, but I swallowed it down.

I guessed I had managed to pull a little pride back inside of myself at some point.  I wondered when that was and figured it was probably around the same time Rinaldo took me in and gave me a reason to be.  Regardless, I didn’t want to draw attention to myself—not here.

Really, I just didn’t care to have anyone coming over and fussing at me about it.

I spit to try to get the grains of sand off my lips, but it doesn’t work.  It never does, but it gives me something to do—something to strive for to stop the mind-numbing lack of interaction with anyone or anything.  Time is meaningless, and the only connection I have had with anyone in what feels like days is the sound of footsteps in the compound where I’m kept in a deep, sand-filled hole.

I’m convinced it’s for the sake of convenience.  When I die, they only have to fill it back up again.

Unfamiliar sounds, then gunshots and the whirring blades of a helicopter fill my ears.  I assume my mind is playing tricks on me as I think I hear voices in English, but then a few minutes later there is a voice close to me.

“Lieutenant?  Sir?  Are you a Marine Corps Lieutenant?”

“What do you have there, Smith?”

“I dunno, sir, but he’s wearing fatigues, or at least what’s left of them.”

“He’s got tags.  You’re right—he’s USMC.”

I feel a hand on the skin of my neck.  Shuffling sounds above me become louder, and I try to turn my head enough to see.  I want to call out, even if I’m calling out to my own imagination.  It sounds real enough, and I don’t mind the fantasy.  It beats eating sand.  I don’t have enough of a voice to respond, though.

“Lieutenant?  Lieutenant?”

“Lieutenant?”

My eyes flickered to the sound out of reflex, and I found Mark Duncan staring into them.

“Can you talk to me?”

I swallowed and wet my lips before I looked back down to the cuff around my wrist.  The metal had warmed against my skin but didn’t feel quite right.  It should have been those plastic zip-ties or maybe rope, not handcuffs.  There was still the feel of sand in the back of my throat, and I coughed to try to get rid of it.  It didn’t help.  It never did.

“Can we get him out of the restraints?”

“No, sir.  That wouldn’t be a good idea at all.”

“I’ll take the risk.”

There was an unfriendly guffaw from the guard as he mumbled under his breath.

“You got no idea who you’re dealing with, do ya?”

“What does that mean?”

My eyes traveled from Mark to the guard at the end of the bed.  He was the unit supervisor, and though I didn’t remember his name, I did remember him making sure the cuffs were nice and tight as he restrained me.  We locked gazes for a moment, and I stared at him with an intense, silent warning until he looked away.

Even if I didn’t give a shit about what happened to me now, I wasn’t going to let Rinaldo’s name into the conversation.  There was some pride in me and also some loyalty, even if it was a fucked up version of allegiance.

“Sorry, sir,” the supervisor said to Mark, “but I can’t release him without orders from the warden.”

A deep sigh came from Mark as he pulled up a rolling chair close to the edge of the bed.

“Evan?”

I closed my eyes and tried to cross my arms in front of my chest, but of course, the handcuffs stopped me.  A shudder passed through my body, and my breathing increased along with the pounding of my heart.  I could taste and feel sand in my throat.

It’s not real.

Real or not, it sent me back into the desert.

“Lieutenant Evan Nathanial Arden, service number zero-four-seven-two-”

My teeth clench together to keep myself from screaming.  I can’t see what the bearded man is using to whip the back of my neck down to my ass, but it stings like a motherfucker.  I’m surprisingly glad I went through all the torture resistance training back in the spring.

“Did I ask you for your numbers?”  The man in front of me—the leader of the group—kicks sand into my face, and I don’t manage to close my eyes in time.

I try to shake my head to get rid of some of the grains, but it doesn’t work.  My eyes burn, and I can’t stop the desperate grunt that escapes my throat.

“You don’t like the sand here?” the leader asks.  “You should get used to it!”

I still can’t open my eyes enough to see, but I feel rough hands on the back of my neck, and my face is shoved into the grains of sand in front of my knees.  He twists and turns my head as I try to hold my breath.

With my hands balled into fists, I opened my eyes and looked to Mark in desperation.  I couldn’t seem to actually say anything as my lungs screamed for oxygen.  I was practically panting, but it wasn’t enough air.  All I could feel going into my chest were grains of sand.

He put his hand on my forearm, but I jumped back away.  The handcuffs bit into the skin of my wrist, and I gasped out loud.  My body tensed—frozen in one spot as additional memories flooded through my brain.

“I’m going to get those off of you,” Mark said.  “Just hang in there a little while longer, okay?”

I tried to nod but had no idea if I was successful or not.

Mark went on to argue with the unit leader about the handcuffs and to ask why I hadn’t been moved to a cell yet.  I only half paid attention to the conversation.  I certainly wanted to be out of the cuffs, but I wasn’t so sure moving from one part of the prison to another was going to make any kind of significant difference.  It wasn’t like I was going to be able to sleep any better on a different cot.

“He’s still supposed to be on suicide watch.”

“I don’t think he’s a threat to himself.”

“You didn’t think he’d blow up a park either.”

“I can’t treat him if he’s nonresponsive, and he’s going to be that way as long as you have him restrained.  Didn’t you read my notes?”

“Yeah, yeah, I saw them.  Shell-shocked.”

“A little outdated on your terminology but essentially correct.”

Sometimes all you really needed was a little happy coincidence, and right at that time, about a dozen people entered the medical center—four guards and a bunch of inmates all holding their stomachs.  It didn’t take long for the nurses to assess the situation and start moving the food-poisoned prisoners to the various cots around me.  A few minutes later, as Mark continued to argue, another batch was brought in.

“We’re going to need all the beds we can get,” the nurse told him.

He let out a long sigh, glared at Mark and then at me.

“Solitary.”

“I’ll take it.”  Mark nodded vigorously.

Hands grabbed my arms, and I was hauled out of the medical unit and into a hallway.  An elevator door opened, and my pair of escorts shoved me inside with Mark following.  When the doors opened again, we walked out into the common area of one of the cell units.

The area was carpeted and painted with warm earth tones.  Several inmates sat around small, round tables in cheap plastic chairs and played cards while a few others stood around a bumper pool table.  A couple of them looked up as I was led up a short flight of stairs and paraded along the curved railing that overlooked the recreation room.

Along the walkway were several numbered doors without windows in them.  I was brought to the last door which contained a small window at eye level and a slotted opening in the center.  The guard unlocked the door to take me inside.

The narrow cell was obviously designed for single occupancy.  I could have walked the length between the door and the tall, narrow window overlooking downtown Chicago in about four steps.  A metal-framed bed in the center took up most of the floor space.  The legs of the bed were bolted to the floor, and I could see four loops that could be used for restraining straps on the sides.  Aside from the obligatory toilet and sink, there was only a small writing desk with a single, thin drawer under the tabletop, a stool, and a locker shoved up against the foot of the bed to complete the room.

As soon as I was inside, the guard removed the cuffs, and I felt nearly dizzy with relief as the weight left me.  I squeezed my hands into fists a couple of times to restore the feeling of blood running freely through my veins and tried to take a few long breaths.

“I’d like to have my session with Mr. Arden now,” Mark said with conviction.

Another long sigh from the guard, but he didn’t protest.  He moved outside the cell, locked the door, and peered at us through the window as Mark ran his hand through his hair and watched me.

Without any other direction, I sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed my wrists.  Once I had myself convinced that the restraints were really gone, I let out a long sigh and closed my eyes.  Now I could wrap my arms around my gut and try to force myself to think of anything but sand.

Mark pulled the stool next to the bed and sat on it.

Glancing back to his face, I could see how distressed he was and felt a little bad about it.  I knew he’d tried to help on more than one occasion; it just wasn’t the kind of help I was seeking.  I needed to be able to sleep—that’s all I had wanted.  He couldn’t do that, though, because he wasn’t going to break that patient-counselor code long enough to lie down in bed with me.

Without the cuffs around my wrists, I managed to find my voice.

“Sorry to disappoint you, sir,” I said.

Another sigh.

“I’m not disappointed,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow at him.  I didn’t believe a word of it—he was a proud guy and considered himself good at what he did.  It wasn’t his fault I wouldn’t tell him everything that was going on in my head.  It wouldn’t have helped anyway.

“I’m angrier with myself,” Mark claimed, “because I didn’t see this coming.  Not at all.  It’s rare I’m caught so off-guard.”

My chest tightened as memories flooded over my brain like an ice-cold shower.  There was a time I thought I understood people when I really didn’t—not at all.  A single conversation changed everything.

“Do you know what she said to me?” I asked Mark.

“Who?”

I turned my head toward him, but my vision was focused entirely inward.

“The wife of the journalist guy who was killed in the video.  You remember that guy?”

“Yeah, I do.  You told them to kill you instead of him.”

“Yeah, that guy.”  I nodded, remembering.  “His wife came to the hospital in Virginia, and they told me who she was before I ever talked to her.  My stomach was all tied up before she even walked into the room.  I mean, I’d watched her husband die, ya know?  I couldn’t do anything about it.  Even though I told them to kill me, it didn’t make any difference—they wouldn’t listen.  I think they wanted it to be him because he wasn’t military and because he did have a family.”

I shifted and bumped the edge of the metal bed with my shoe.  The clang from the springs reverberated and caught my attention.  I stared down at the base of the bed, saw the loops meant for restraints again, and could nearly feel the sandy walls of the hole around my shoulders.

“What did she say to you, Evan?”

I shook my head a bit to clear it.

“She came up and sat down next to me,” I said as the detail of the memory returned.  “For the longest time we just looked at each other, and eventually I couldn’t take it anymore.  I started blathering about how sorry I was and about how I tried to get them to take me instead, but they wouldn’t listen.  I probably would have dropped down to my knees and started crying, but she stopped me.”

I turned my head to Mark and looked him straight in the eye.

“That’s when she said it was all okay,” I told him.  “I figured she was going to start telling me how it wasn’t my fault and there was nothing I could do—the shrinks in the hospital in Germany had said that—but she didn’t.  She told me it was okay because she was glad.  She was glad he was gone, and now she and her girls could move on with their lives without constantly being in his shadow.  She said he was never there for them, and now that he was dead, she could use the insurance money to start up the flower shop she always wanted and he wouldn’t support.”

Mark’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“She didn’t fucking care,” I told him.  I could feel the tension in my voice as much as I could hear it.  “She was happy he was dead.  I was willing to die for him—a guy whose name I didn’t even know—and the person who should have cared about him the most didn’t give a shit.”

My sides and stomach tightened up as I remembered the look of…of elation in her eyes as she told me about her business venture and how excited she was to be her own boss and run her own company.  I had watched her and waited for her to tell me he was smacking her around or doing things to their daughters that he shouldn’t, but she said none of that.  He just hadn’t liked the idea of her going into business on her own instead of working her steady, corporate job.

My throat seized up, and I forced myself to swallow.  It hurt, but the pain was nothing compared to what was happening in my head.  I needed to crawl back inside again.  I needed to stop thinking and stop remembering.

But I couldn’t.

“That’s when I figured it out,” I said quietly.  “People live and they die, and it doesn’t fucking matter to anyone around them.  Whatever happens, happens.  People move on, and they’re probably better off because of it.”

“That’s what changed you,” he whispered.  “I knew there was something that made you different from how all the reports from your rescue described you.  I should have pressed you before when I first thought there was something about that video you weren’t telling me.  I assumed it was something they did off camera—something classified.”

I shook my head.

“I’m very good at being who I am,” I told him.  “Don’t blame yourself.”

“Who are you, Evan?”

I shook my head.

“Doesn’t matter.  Not now.”  I’d fucked up far too publicly, and I couldn’t hide it.  It occurred to me that Rinaldo might never refer to me as “son” again, and I leaned back against the head of the medical center cot and closed my eyes.  My heart was starting to race, and I feared losing the handcuffs and a bit of privacy weren’t going to be enough to allow me to sleep.

“It matters to me.”  Mark’s voice was quiet but earnest.

I shook my head.

Nothing about the conversation was going to go anywhere, so I ended it with my silence.

Chapter 2—Possible Forgiveness

With the illness of the inmates identified as the flu instead of the breakfast sausages, I was permanently assigned into the general inmate population to make room for the physically sick.  I remained in the same maximum security cell, and there was always a guard outside of it, but at least I wasn’t shackled to the bedrail constantly.  I was even allowed into the prison’s gym to work out and up to the top of the building for a little outside time.

Basketball hoops and prisoners hanging out and smoking filled the triangular shaped exercise area at the very top of the building.  I wasn’t much of a basketball player on a good day, and I hadn’t had too many good days recently, so I stuck with sitting up against the wall and alternating between staring at the cloudy sky and staring at the cement under my prison-issue sneakers.

My head was swimmy from lack of sleep, so I closed my eyes and tried to stop the accompanying nausea by swallowing repeatedly.  It helped a little but not enough.  I had been thinking about my dog, Odin, and wondered if I would be able to sleep if he were allowed in a cell with me.

Lia should have him now as one of the arresting officers had promised.  She would take good care of him—I had no doubt about that.  He liked her, too.  He’d taken to her pretty much the moment she lay down in my bed, much like I had taken to her.

“Arden, right?”

I opened my eyes and looked at the heavily muscled, thirty-something guy with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a distinctly Mexican accent but didn’t recognize him.  There wasn’t any reason to respond to him either, so I didn’t.  He wasn’t to be deterred and sat down next to me.

“I met you once,” he claimed.  “The name’s Pablo.  I ran snow for your boss before I got caught for possession with intent.  I got sentenced to six-to-ten, but they haven’t gotten around to moving me to Marion yet.”

He still didn’t look familiar, but his story rang a bell.  There were three guys busted about a year ago, and I assumed he must be one of them.  I still didn’t see his relationship in Moretti’s business as a reason to acknowledge him, though.  There were probably twenty guys in here at any given time who had relationships to the organization in one way or another.

Pablo continued to talk anyway.

“I heard about why you’re in here,” he said.

I took in a long, deep breath before leaning forward and resting my arms on my knees.  The cement beneath my heels was cracked, and I kicked a bit of it with my toe to knock a loose chunk of it away.

“I got the routine down here,” Pablo said, “so if you have any questions or anything…”

His voice trailed off as I sighed and looked up at him darkly.

There was a scar on his forearm that was certainly the result of a knife fight, and his calloused palms were indicative of someone who liked to spend his free time lifting weights and proving he had more testosterone than anyone else at the gym.  The belly hanging out in front of him and the cigarette made it obvious he wasn’t a health nut at all.  He was more than likely one of those who just liked to brag about how much he could bench press.

“Do I look like I give a shit?” I asked him.

He paused and licked his lips nervously.

“No,” he admitted as he looked to his pocket to pull out another cigarette.  “Still, if you need anything, I’ll help ya out.  While I’m still here, anyway.”

My eyes wandered over him.  He had a lot of upper body strength, but his legs weren’t as strong.  He either did a lot of lifting and manual labor activities, or he just hated doing squats at the gym so never worked out his legs like he did his arms.  He had a variety of uninteresting tattoos that were obviously done by a novice artist, probably in exchange for coke, and short-cropped, black, greasy hair.

I watched the cigarette dangling out of his mouth and wondered what Jonathan was doing right at that moment.  I also had a clear memory of leaning back against the side of the motor pool to sneak a cigarette with a young private in my unit.

“Got an extra one of those?” I asked.

“Sure,” Pablo said.

He handed me a smoke and a pack of matches.  It was too windy to use matches, so he handed his own cigarette over to me so I could monkey-fuck it to light mine.  The smoke burned in my lungs in a way that was immediately familiar and long-forgotten at the same time.  It took a couple tries before I got the hang of inhaling again.

Pablo remained silent for a while as I finished the cigarette and ground it out into the cement crack beneath my shoe.  I tried to breathe normally for a minute as my lungs attempted to remember how to deal with the smoke and whatever other shit they put in those things.

“You want another one?”

“Not now,” I replied.  “Thanks.”

“You let me know,” Pablo said.  “I’ll hook you up with some if you want them.”

I nodded.  I wasn’t sure if I really wanted another one, though.  My lungs still burned, and I coughed a couple of times, which caused Pablo to snicker quietly.  He shrugged a shoulder when I glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.

“You gonna kill me for thinking that’s kinda funny?” he asked.

Other times—other days—I would have.  Well, I would have considered it anyway.  At the moment, I wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind.  I obviously didn’t have a gun on me, and though I was quite sure I could get a shiv of some kind delivered to my hands without a lot of trouble, they were messy.  If I was going to kill Pablo, it would have to be with my hands, and that was just a lot of effort for a chuckle at my expense.

“No,” I finally said, “I’m not in the mood right now.”

He let out another laugh, but it was a nervous one.  He seemed to be getting the idea that what I said hadn’t actually been a joke and it was best for him to remember who the hell I was.  I might have been a little lost inside, but no one else needed to know that.

“I guess I’m lucky, then,” Pablo finally said with a short exhale through his nose.  “Still, though, if there’s anything you need, I can probably get it for you while I’m here.  You want weed?”

“I don’t touch the shit,” I informed him.  Even when my unit needed a little break from reality and would sneak a bit of pot, I never indulged.  I never stopped them from doing it, but I didn’t like the idea of being out of control at all.  Even drinking more than a couple of beers or a glass of good scotch was rare for me.

“Well, if you think of something, I’m here for ya, man.”

“Thanks.”  I didn’t mean it, but the response came out automatically.  I didn’t give a shit about some snow runner and what he could bring to my fucking jail cell.  He probably considered himself all kinds of useful in here but not to me.

I didn’t want anything.

After an hour, we were all led back down to the common area, which wasn’t a place I wanted to be.  I went back to my cell for lack of any better options and leaned my head against the back wall where I could see out the window and down to the street.

The building was a rather strange one architecturally.  It was triangular instead of the usual rectangle, and from the street, people could see the seven-foot tall windows of the cells covering the twenty-seven-story building.  Lots of people likened the sides of the building to an old-style punch-card because of the window slits in the pale, cement walls.

I wasn’t sure exactly what floor I was on but could tell I was up pretty high—certainly more than half way up the nearly thirty-story building.  There was a single bar going through the center of the thin window from top to bottom, just in case anyone was crazy enough to try to escape from so high up.  Crazy or not, people had tried, and a couple had even succeeded.  When I looked out of the south-facing window, the view kind of sucked.  I could see the Harold Washington Library, but that was about it.  All the cool stuff was to the North and East.

I turned back toward the bed with its plain white sheet and single pillow.  Just looking at it sent that warm, sleepy feeling through my body.  I blinked slowly a few times as I shuffled over and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.

“Don't sleep,” I told myself as the mattress gave way below my ass.

I didn't have to check the tags to know it wasn't a name brand mattress. There weren't any actual springs poking me in the back, but it was one step away from it.  It smelled like strong detergent instead of anything nastier, at least.

I laid back and rolled to one side. Fatigue continued to spread over my body, and despite my desire to stay conscious, I knew it was a losing battle.

“Stay awake.”

Fucking talking to myself again.

Rolling over with the hope movement alone would keep the sandman away, I heard the springs below me groan in protest. I was immediately reminded of another small, crappy bed in the heart of the Arizona desert.  Inside of my head, I could hear the rhythmic sounds of the squeaking wrought iron bed as I pounded into Lia.

My hand releases her neck, and I grab her hair instead.

“My cock feels so good fucking you,” I growl into her ear.  “You like that?  Huh?”

A groan is the only response I get, but it is enough.

I slam into her harder, hold myself deep inside for a moment, and then slowly slide almost all the way out.  I would have pulled all the way out, but it would be too awkward to get back inside of her without getting her back up on her knees again, and I like having her all splayed out under me the way she is.

She likes it, too.

“Do you know how easy it would be,” I moan, and my voice is gravelly and husky in her ear, “to fuck you in the ass from this position?”

I feel her tense, and there are goose bumps springing up over her neck and shoulders.  I smile slightly—she’s never taken a cock up the ass before.  My lips press against the skin below her ear.

“Not this time,” I whisper, and I feel her relax underneath me for a brief moment.

I never did have anything other than straight sex with Lia.  As many times as I had fucked her in that cabin while she was there, I never did take her in the ass.  Other than that single comment when I had been on top of her, I hadn’t thought about it much.  I would have taken her any way she was willing, but unlike any other woman I had ever been with, my cock’s focus was all on her pussy.

Reaching up to my head, I grabbed the thin pillow and pulled it to my chest. It smelled like cheap detergent with a hint of bleach, but I tried to ignore the burning in my nose as I pressed my cheek to the pillow.  I wanted to recreate the feeling I had when I woke up that morning with my head on Lia’s stomach and her hand running through my hair.  I closed my eyes briefly and immediately felt consciousness trying to leave me.

“Not yet,” I whispered into the empty room.  “Need to have her in my head first.”

Maybe I’d dream of her if I did.  It was possible, wasn’t it?  All the dreams started again shortly after I came back from that cabin, so shouldn’t I be able to conjure up a dream of her?

“Please?”

I thought about the feeling of her skin under my hands and the way she smelled the next day—like she’d had me in her all night, which she had.  I remembered the sound of her panting breaths and low moans as I first entered her body.  I could still taste her tongue in my mouth after she’d borrowed my toothbrush in the morning.

I tried to fill my mind with thoughts of her sad smile as she glanced over her shoulder and walked up the steps of the bus.  She didn’t want me to drive her to her mother’s house, and I couldn’t have left my post long enough to do so anyway.

She’d just been a girl, lost in the desert.

She should have meant nothing to me.

When I returned to Chicago, I had tried to forget everything—especially the lost girl I had taken to my bed and held far too closely in my mind.  I kept myself occupied with my work and with a whore, but I knew that I had actually lost myself in that cabin as well—lost myself in her eyes as well as between her thighs.  That loss was what drove me over the edge and brought me to this tiny bed in a tiny cell, just as Lia had been brought to my small bed in a one-room cabin.

I couldn’t hold sleep off any longer, and even though I knew my chances of success were nil, I continued to try to fight it.

I lost.

The dreams came.

I woke up screaming.

* * *

“You got a call-out, Arden.”

The words flowed around in my head, but I didn’t find them very interesting.  I was far more focused on trying to hold on to the memory of soft, dark hair through my fingers and the way my soul seemed to relax into Lia as I lay my head against her stomach.

“Come on, Arden—scheduled appointment.”

I didn’t remember having one, but at some point a couple of the guards and the unit manager came in and dragged me down to one of the private visiting rooms.  The handcuffs around my wrists were checked, and then the other end secured me to the arms of a chair.  I lifted my hands slightly, but they weren’t able to move far.

I pressed against the floor with the balls of my feet and tried to keep the panic at bay as the metal lay across my wrists, but the movement wasn’t distracting enough.  I frantically tried to think of something to keep my mind off the restraints.  I tried to think about what I would do if there was an itch on my nose.  I thought about the last soccer game I had watched and wondered if I would be able to watch any of this season’s games from inside.  I wondered what Lia was doing right at the moment and if Odin liked staying with her.  I was sure he did and was comforted by the idea that he would like living with Lia.

A few minutes after I was placed in the chair, Rinaldo Moretti walked into the room with a tall, lanky guy in a suit behind him.  The look in my boss’s eyes was stern and closed—nearly unreadable, except I knew exactly what he was thinking.  I was supposed to come to him if I got to the point of breaking, and I hadn’t.

The problem was once you have crossed that line, you don’t exactly think rationally.  It was sort of the definition of breaking.

My throat seized up.  I couldn’t look at him and opted to look straight down at the table instead.  My lungs couldn’t seem to get enough air, and I had to force myself to breathe through my nose.  I balled my hands into fists to keep them from shaking and making the chains rattle.

Rinaldo cleared his throat, and I glanced up.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I said with an uncharacteristically shaky voice.

Rinaldo just stared at me, his eyes flickering from the emotionless façade he was trying to maintain to fury.  There was tightness around his eyes and definite tension in his forearms.  His fingers flexed once as he leaned back in the metal chair.

“We’ll have that discussion another time,” he said with promise.  “Don’t doubt that.  For now, I’m here to introduce you to your attorney.”

“Michael Beard,” the young man said.  “I specialize in cases where the defendant has suffered from PTSD.  I understand you’ve been given this diagnosis?  Can you tell me precisely when?”

I looked over the man in the suit.  He wasn’t much older than I was, and I doubted he was beyond thirty.  For a moment, I considered that Rinaldo had found me a shit attorney to make sure I went away for a long time, but that didn’t make sense.  If he wanted me out of the picture, he wouldn’t be here at all, let alone with a lawyer in tow.  He knew all my money was cash and inaccessible from inside, and he would have just left me to rot with a public defender if he wasn’t serious about getting me out.

What he’d do to me after I was released, well, that was anyone’s guess.  He wouldn’t have spent the time and effort to get me out to kill me, though.  That would be a waste of money when he could accomplish the same thing cheaper with a bribe to a guard or an inmate.

Michael Beard was all business—that was for sure.  He waited patiently for me to answer his question and didn’t seem to be the least bit nervous or rushed.  Considering Rinaldo must have told him who I was to his organization, I was somewhat surprised at how calm he was.  Often, when I was first introduced to someone, they would be all fidgety around me.

“Answer him, Arden,” Rinaldo commanded when I didn’t respond right away.

I tried not to focus on the use of my last name as I swallowed, nodded, and faced the lawyer.

“When I returned from Germany,” I told him.  “That was three years ago.  I was discharged in May of that year.”

Michael made some notes on his legal pad.  I could almost see him in one of those little school desks, jotting down notes during an English Lit class with his knees all tucked up underneath the desktop.

“Were you medicated as part of your treatment?”

“Yeah, for a while.”

“Do you still take drugs as part of treatment, either prescribed or illicit?”  Michael’s eyes watched mine as I answered, and I had the distinct feeling he was watching for any untruthfulness.

“No.”  I leaned back in the chair and planned on keeping my gaze on his, but the clang of the handcuffs distracted me.  I clenched the arms of the chair and took a couple of deep breaths.

“Do you have nightmares or recurring thoughts about what happened to you?”

I swallowed hard.

“Yes.”

“How often?”

“Every time I close my eyes.”

I didn’t miss Rinaldo’s narrowed eyes as I admitted this to the attorney.  Yes, I had been too broken to come to him after I had killed Terry and Bridgett, but it was obvious the nightmares had been getting worse for a while.  I hadn’t told him about those.  Even when I confessed that Bridgett had slept in my bed with me, I never told him the reason why.

“Do you ever feel numb?”

“Most of the time.”

“Have you ever thought about hurting yourself or someone else?”

I actually laughed, which caused Rinaldo to smile slightly as well.

“Evan’s right,” he told the attorney.  “That’s a seriously stupid question.”

“Moving on,” Michael muttered.  “Do you have trouble focusing?”

“Yes.”

“Do you ever talk to your family or friends about what happened to you?”

“Fuck no.”

“Are you going to diagnose him or get him the fuck out of here?” Rinaldo growled as his patience waned.

“I’m just trying to understand his state of mind at the time of the incident.”

“He was fucked up—temporary insanity brought on by the stress of one of his co-workers and friends being found dead, right, Arden?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Please, Mister Moretti, let me do my job.”  Michael reclined in the plastic chair and looked into Rinaldo’s eyes.

He was a brave man; I’d give him that.

Rinaldo glared for a moment but finally waved his hand dismissively.

“Whatever.  Continue.”

He asked me a bunch of other questions, which I answered the best I could.  After the final question, he took his finger and traced it down the edge of the page as he reviewed his notes, nodded once, and stood up from the chair.

“That’s all I need for now,” he announced.  “If I have further questions, we’ll set up another meeting.  I’ve given your unit leader my contact information if you think of anything you believe is pertinent.  I don’t think we’ll have any trouble having you released on bail as long as the Marine psychologist doesn’t have any major objections.”

“I’ll meet you outside,” Rinaldo said.

Michael closed his notes into his briefcase and left the small room.  I glanced at my boss and tried not to feel too emasculated as he stared down at me with disappointment in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated.

“I know you are.”  He let out a big sigh as he leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table.  “One way or another, this will all work itself out.”

I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be more concerned with the one way or the other, but I was positive I wasn’t completely cleared in his eyes.  His next words did have a calming effect though.

“I’m going to get you out of here, Arden,” Rinaldo said with conviction.  “You’ve been far too valuable to let you rot.  You have also left me in the awkward position of not just missing you, but also missing your backup.”

“Sorry, sir,” I said again.  I couldn’t argue with what he said—I’d removed myself to jail right after killing his number two hit man, Terry Kramer.

“You aren’t sorry for that,” he muttered as he stood up.

I couldn’t even pretend he was wrong.  I’d hated Terry Kramer from the moment I set eyes on him.  When I found out he had lured my hooker-slash-girlfriend into giving him information I had inadvertently told her, I’d lost it completely, killed them both, and then landed myself where I was.

“We’ll be back,” Rinaldo promised.  “Hang tight, son.

Nothing could have satisfied me more than hearing that word from his lips.

Chapter 3—Needed Sleep

Only a few moments after Rinaldo walked out the door along with Michael, the adolescent attorney, one of the guards came in to take me back to my cell.  As he started to unlock the cuffs from the chair, one of the unit leaders stuck his head in and said I had another visitor.

I tried not to tense up so much as he tightened the restraints to the chair again and went to the door to let in whoever was coming to see me.  My head was throbbing and felt like it was covered with a thick fog.  As the door swung open again, I looked up to see her.

Lia.

She was dressed in tight-fitting blue jeans, tennis shoes, and a long sleeved T-shirt.  I could see the chain around her neck which held a quarter made into a pendant—the same quarter I’d left for her in the cabin with a lame-ass note apologizing for running out on her.  She’d used that quarter to prove my ass was as tight as military-style bed sheets, which had made me laugh harder than I had in years.

Was that the point when I fell for her?

There was a warm coat tossed over her arm, and I wondered how cold it had gotten outside.  The sun had been shining into my cell window, but I didn’t know the temperature outside.  Chicago should have been in the full swing of spring, but apparently nature had another plan.

Her chest rose and fell as she took a long breath and then a short step toward me.  I couldn’t seem to move my lips to actually say anything to her at first, but when she hesitated, I found my tongue.

“Is Odin okay?”  They were probably the wrong first words, but nothing else came to mind.  The fog rolled in over my head again, and my stomach lurched.  For a second, there was nothing but dizziness in my head and static in front of my eyes.

“He’s doing all right,” she said.  “They let me get into your apartment to find his food dish and bed.  He chewed up his rubber bone the first day I had him at my place, but I found him a new one.  I think he misses you.”

Lia took the last couple of steps to the chair opposite mine and sat with her hands folded in front of her.  The movement caught my attention, and I stared at her fingers.  I recalled the way they felt wrapped around my shaft, and even as I sat there, incarcerated, with cuffs around my wrists and a head full of vile dreams, I was starting to get a little hard.

My heart throbbed along with my head, and I turned my gaze away as I closed my eyes.  It was entirely possible I was going to get out of here and might even have the opportunity to feel her touch again, but I was about as fucked up as they came, and she didn’t need to be subjected to that.

Besides, there was no telling what Rinaldo had planned for me when I was released on bond.  He could exile me again.

I felt fingers against my arm and opened my eyes to find Lia had moved from her seat to stand on the left side of the chair where I was chained.  Her fingers traced up my forearm, and I shivered as I took in another deep breath.

With her touch on my arm, and my inability to return it, my head began to swim again, and the fog inside my mind felt like it was trying to push me to the ground and suffocate me.  Her presence and contact should have soothed me, but I needed more.

“I wish I could touch you.  I need to touch you.”

Lia stepped to one side and shoved the table back a little with her hip. She positioned herself so that her leg was right in front of my hand.

I reached out and wrapped my fingers around her thigh.  Sitting up and leaning forward, I pressed the side of my face against her stomach. The touch of her fingers on the back of my neck and scalp as she cradled my head to her body was alarming. The warm, dark feeling of near unconsciousness from lack of sleep seeped into me again, replacing the fog, but I pushed it off as I inhaled her familiar scent and let the emotions cover me.

She saw me.

She saw me like that—rifle in hand, firing at strangers in a park. She saw me in cuffs, being hauled away like a deranged lunatic.

I was a deranged lunatic.

My body started shaking, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.  It all came out as I pressed my face against her belly and let go—allowing the shaking to turn into sobbing.  The haunted looks of those I had killed just before my bullet entered their brains, the bodies of my unit as I was taken prisoner, the sounds of those who begged me to show mercy.

I never did.

“It wasn't always this way,” I cried into her shirt. “I wasn't supposed to be like this.”

“What happened?” I heard her whisper.

I shook my head from side to side, still pressing tightly against her body.  Though there was a little part of me that might have wanted to go for full disclosure—everything from my profession to the slaying of the woman I slept with—most of me wasn’t anywhere near that stupid.  Even in my current state, I wasn’t going to say anything to make her run screaming from the room.  That was what she would have done if I had told her everything.

No doubt about it.

Without the ability to tell her all of it, I had to go with the basic, high-level view of the situation.

“I can’t…I can’t sleep,” I finally said.

“Why not?”

“The dreams.”

“Tell me what you dream about,” she said softly.

I turned my head to gaze up at her.  I didn’t know what I saw there, but I knew it wasn’t just morbid curiosity or nosiness.

“I was a POW,” I told her.

She nodded, and there was no surprise contained within her eyes.

“I know,” she replied.  “I read about it.  Is that what you dream about?”

“Most of the time,” I said.  Flashes of Bridgett’s body on the ground flickered in my brain, and I bit down on my lip to stop myself from blurting it out.  “I usually dream about being tied up and shoved into a hole in the ground.  And the sand.  Just constant, fucking sand.”

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

I shrugged and shook my head.  I had no idea.

“I can’t sleep by myself,” I said.  “It’s been…a while.”

“By yourself?” Lia asked.  “But you can sleep if someone is with you?”

Whirling nausea swirled in my stomach.  I hadn’t meant to say anything about it at all, and now she was likely to press for a better answer.  What would I even tell her?  I do my best sleeping after a little anal with a hooker?  Oh, by the way, I might have shot her when the mood struck me.

How about a nice night on the town?

“I guess,” I said quietly.  My heartbeat pounded in my temples as I started to sweat due to the energy it was taking not to tell her what happened.

Lia’s fingers trailed slowly over the side of my face.

“If I was with you, would you be able to sleep?”

The feeling that came over me at the very idea could have easily knocked me to the floor if I hadn’t already been secured to the metal chair.  My fingers tightened on her thigh as the reality of the situation hit me.

If I had just held out another day—maybe even another hour—I could be sleeping with her right now.  I could be in my bed with Lia in my arms and Odin making disgusting saliva trails on my arm when I overslept.

I’d fucked it all up.

“Shit…shit…shit…”

“Evan!”

“So fucked up…”

“I know,” she said with a rush of air from her lungs. “It’s as fucked up as anything ever has been.”

“It’s worse,” I responded.  I squeezed my eyes shut and considered biting down on my tongue.

There’s a rush of blood into my throat just after a sharp blow to my chin causes me to bite down on my tongue.  For a moment I think I’m choking on my own blood, but once I manage to swallow, I can breathe again.  My tongue throbs in my mouth…

“Evan?”

As my thoughts were interrupted, my lungs started screaming at me to fill them up with some air before I passed out face-first on the table.  I tried to inhale but couldn’t and started to panic.

The blood in my mouth mixes with the sand as I’m thrown back to the ground, and for a moment I am choking on it…

“Evan, stay with me.”

“Can’t breathe.”

“Calm, baby.”  Her fingers traced the edge of my jaw.  “Just listen to my voice, and take a slow breath.”

I wanted to listen to her badly enough that I forced my diaphragm to flex and pull air into my lungs in a sharp gasp.

“It’s okay.”  Lia’s voice pulled me from the panic the same way it had managed to pull me from the memory.  “It’s all right, Evan…  You’re all right.”

With nearly violent effort, I inhaled again.  The act itself nearly made me fall out of the chair.  I wondered if it was the restraints or Lia’s touch that was keeping me from landing on the floor.  After a few more tries and a lot of focus on her skin against mine, I managed to start breathing normally again.

“Where did you go?”  Lia’s fingers continued to run from my temple to my chin.

“Back there,” I responded.  I swallowed past the growing tightness in my throat before continuing.  “When they first tried to put me in the hole, I’d struggle.  It was stupid—there were too many of them to fight.”

“But you kept trying.”

“For a while.”  I nodded.  “Eventually, I figured out there wasn’t any point.  Once I didn’t respond that way anymore to whatever they were doing, they’d try to come up with other ways to get a reaction out of me.”

“Shit,” Lia whispered as her arms tensed.  “You were there a long time, too.”

I could only nod.  Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to keep the memories shoved to the back of my mind, but I was really too tired for such an act of will.  They were going to be back—with force.  My hands began to shake uncontrollably, and I gripped Lia’s thigh a little harder.

“Evan, it will be all right.”  Her voice echoed around the small room. “We'll figure it out. I'll help you figure it out.”

I laughed. It was hollow and without humor.

“Figure it out,” I repeated sarcastically. “I shot up my neighborhood park. I'm going to prison.  I should go to prison.”

Her hand stroked the top of my head.

“We'll figure something out,” she said again.  “I don't know what that is yet, but there has to be something.”

“Can’t think,” I told her.  “Can’t think when I can’t sleep.”

“You have to sleep.”

“No.”  I shook my head against her body.  “It’s too much—too real.”

The door across the room opened abruptly, and Mark Duncan stepped in.

“Were you serious about your offer?” he said immediately to a confused Lia.

She shook her head, her look quizzical.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I have to admit I’m a little anxious to see how much this helps.  Evan hasn’t slept more than a few minutes at a time in the past two days, and I believe it’s largely to blame for his breakdown.”

Breakdown.  Is that what it was?

“Who are you?” Lia finally asked.

Mark shook his head like Odin does when he gets a bath.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Antonio.”  He extended his arm, and I flinched as Lia’s touch left my skin briefly to shake his hand.  “I’m Mark Duncan, Evan’s psychologist.  I’ve been observing both of you through the monitor.  I assume you are the young lady Evan has spoken to me about.”

I’d said nothing to him about Lia as far as I could remember.  Not that my memory was all that great, but I had a pretty good idea he was really thinking of Bridgett.  I hadn’t told him much during the few sessions we had actually had, but he had guessed that the person I was sleeping with was a hooker, and I hadn’t denied it.  I tensed, unsure about what else he might say.

If he called Lia a prostitute, I was going to rip off the chains and beat him to death with them.

Apparently, the doctor-patient privilege still held because he said nothing else about it.

“I want to help,” Lia confirmed.  “What do you want me to do?”

“Sleep with him.”

Her eyes narrowed a little, and her hand stilled against my cheek.

“Where?” she asked.

“Here,” Mark said.  “Visitors aren’t allowed in the cell units, so there isn’t any other place, and this is a bit of a desperate situation.  He’s in serious danger if he doesn’t get proper sleep.  I can see what I can do to make it more comfortable.”

Lia looked around the room while I tried to make sense of what Mark was suggesting.  I wasn’t successful; it was too hard to keep track of what was going on around me in my present state of mind.  Inferred reasoning wasn’t going to happen.

Thankfully, Lia spelled it all out.

“You want me to just…what?  Lie down with him on the floor so he can sleep?  Do you really think that will work?”

“If he could get some sleep with you here, it could change everything.  Right now I can’t reach him at all—he’s too disoriented. To be perfectly frank, there is a very real possibility of further psychosis or even death.”

“Death?”

“In extreme cases of insomnia, yes,” Mark confirmed.  “I need to know if you’re serious about your suggestion.  Are you willing to help him?”

“Of course I want to help him.”  Lia’s tone was one of annoyance.

Mark moved toward the guard and pointed from the guard’s keychain to where I sat.

“Remove Mister Arden’s restraints.”

The guard let out a sharp burst of laughter, and Mark eyed him.

“I’m not jesting here.”

“You are as nutty as your patients, then, doc,” the guard replied.  “There is no way that loon is getting out of his cuffs.  He’d probably kill you first.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”  Mark waved a dismissive hand.

I might have felt a little bad for my shrink.  He wanted to help. I knew he did, but he really didn’t know what he was dealing with.  It wasn’t his fault.  It’s not like I could tell him what I did for a living.

“You’re an idiot,” the guard snapped back.

“I’m not here to discuss or argue this with you,” Mark said.  “Release Mister Arden from the cuffs, please.”

“You have no idea who this guy is, do you?” the guard growled.

Mark looked up at him and tilted his head.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked.

For the first time since he called me lieutenant, the fat, uniformed guard grabbed my attention.

Fuck no.

My eyes turned to the guard, and I tried to gather whatever energy I had inside of me to give him a slight idea of what would happen to him if he spoke a word.  As I raised my eyebrows ever so slightly, I conveyed a clear message with my gaze.

Don’t even fucking think about it.

He stared back at me with defiant eyes at first, but as I tilted my head slightly, he must have received the message.  His eyes widened, and he took a slight step back—like I had pushed him with a look.  He glanced from me to Mark and then let out a breath through his nose.  He reached up and ran his hand over the top of his bald head.

“Why don’t any of the guards have any hair?”

“What?”  Lia glanced down at me and palmed my cheek.

“I don’t know,” I replied.  I didn’t, either.  None of what was happening made sense to me—it was all too clouded and confusing.

“I can’t do that without written authority from-”

Mark cut off the guard by waving a piece of paper in his face.

“I already had it cleared.”

He looked to the floor and let out another long breath.

“Yes, sir,” the guard said as he walked over and slipped the key into the lock around my wrist.  He did my right wrist first and then waited for Lia to step aside so he could do the left.  He moved silently back to his post next to the door and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched me intently.

Lucky for him, I still wasn’t in much of a killing mood because otherwise I would have been seriously pissed off.  I was focused enough on the guard, I didn’t realize Mark had walked out until he came back in again, holding a couple of blankets in his arms.

“Sorry, but this was the best I could do on short notice,” Mark said.  “Hopefully, it will be enough to get you back on your feet again, so to speak.”

“Does he have to stay here?” Lia asked as she nodded her head toward the guard.

“I’m afraid so,” Mark replied.  “It would probably be in everyone’s best interest anyway.”

“Well, let’s do this, then.”  Lia reached out and took my hand.  She led me to the side of the room furthest from the guard and laid out the small blanket on the cement floor.  Then she removed her coat and laid that down on top of it before she sat down with her back against the wall.  She beckoned me, and I sat down beside her.

“Lay down,” she said.

I stared at her against the wall. It felt wrong, but I wasn't sure why. I started to lie down beside her, but it still didn't feel right, so I sat back up and shook my head a bit.  I didn’t know what was wrong, and I couldn’t even find any words that would have made any sense.  I didn’t need to, though—Lia knew without me saying a word.

"Do you want to be against the wall?" Lia asked.

I let out a breath that had been burning in my chest. She moved forward, and I half crawled, half fell into the area between her and the wall.  Lia stretched out beside me as soon as I was in position, and I wrapped my arm around her waist to bring her closer to me.

She was here against my body again after so long.  The thought increased the dizziness in my head but also sent the most incredible sense of relief through my mind.  The nausea of fatigue continued to assault me, but at least she was here.

It was too bright in the small room, and the setting wasn’t at all comfortable.  Still, I was far too mentally and physically exhausted to care very much.  Despite the tiredness, my entire body lay tensed between the cement wall and the woman in front of me.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I could only shake my head as my fingers gripped the fabric of her shirt.  Her fingers moved up my cheek and over the side of my head, stroking slowly until my fingers against her back began to match the same rhythm.  I sighed, and my hand moved down the fabric of her shirt until it found the hem.

With two fingers, I pushed the shirt up a bit and found her bare skin below.  Another long breath and none of the discomfort of the rough blanket, the cold floor, or the situation itself mattered any longer.  I placed my head against her shoulder as that fuzzy feeling crept over me.  I closed my eyes and tried to let go.

Despite the blanket, the floor was cold, and the buttons on Lia’s coat were pressing uncomfortably against my arm as she covered me with it.  I shifted up, tucked my face into the space between her neck and shoulder, and shivered.

“It’s all right,” she whispered.  “You’re going to be okay.”

I took another long, shuddering breath and seemed to melt further against her.

“Now I am.”

My eyes closed.

It didn’t take long.

At least, it didn’t feel like a very long time.  I woke sweating with the taste of sand in my mouth and dryness in my throat that kept me from screaming out loud.  My heart raced, but before I could move, I felt Lia’s warm hand against the side of my face and heard her voice.

“I’m right here,” she whispered.  “I promise—I’m not going anywhere.”

My grip on her tightened a bit, as did hers on me, and my fingers found their way against the skin of her back again.  With my eyes closed and my forehead pressed against her shirt, I slipped back into slumber.

This time, whatever dreams I had weren’t enough to wake me.  As I regained consciousness, I could immediately feel the difference even before opening my eyes.  The fog was gone and so was the dizziness. My head still throbbed, but the beat was slower and the intensity less.

I could think again.

More importantly, I could feel Lia all around me.

Her scent covered me—relaxed me.  I could hear her slow breaths, which further calmed me.  Her fingers tugged gently through the strands of hair just behind my right ear, and it was as if each stroke over my scalp was removing pieces of the pain, the guilt, and the damage inside my brain.

I could have stayed right there—cold floor be damned—for the rest of my life.  The scent of her electrified me.  The touch of her fingers soothed me.  The length of her body pressed against mine excited me.

I moved my hand a little farther up her back and caressed her skin with my fingers before I turned my head and looked up at her.  Her dark eyes met mine, and I pulled air into my lungs to speak.

“Hey.”  It wasn’t much, but it was probably better than I had managed before sleeping.

“Hey, yourself,” Lia replied.  “You’ve been out a while now.  I was afraid I’d have to move in here.”

“Fuck no,” I said.  “No way would I let anyone put you in here.”

There must have been a little more venom in my voice than I had intended because Lia shrank back a bit.

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly.  “It’s just…this place is…well, it sucks.  Let’s leave it at that.”

“I think that’s part of the deal, yes.”

The door clicked as it opened, and Mark Duncan peered around the corner of the frame to look at us.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

I fought the urge to give him a flippant, obnoxious reply.  As my mind focused and understood better where I was and what was going on around me, I knew Mark was going to be my key to getting out of here.  Moretti’s lawyer could only do so much without my shrink saying I was safe enough to be out on the streets.  Without his recommendation, I wasn’t going anywhere.

“I feel a lot better.”  It was easier when I didn’t have to lie.  “I feel like I can think straight again.”

I glanced back and forth between Lia and Mark a few times and let my eyes widen.

“I really fucked up,” I said.  I shook my head a little before glancing back to Mark.  “Shit—did I hurt anybody?”

Mark let out a long breath.

“No, Evan.  You didn’t hurt anybody.”

I nodded slowly, internally pleased that he was none the wiser about my actual activities.  All I had to do now was keep myself in check—calm and collected—until Rinaldo and his resources could get me out of here.

That didn’t end up working out so well.

Mark Duncan left us with the guard so he could go to the warden and discuss some paperwork. I sat up and leaned against the wall of the room with Lia sitting next to me, rubbed at my eyes, which were thick with sleep, and tried not to let the grit remind me of sand.

“How are you really feeling?” Lia asked quietly.  She glanced up at the guard and then back to me before she reached over and placed her hand on my thigh.

“Better,” I said honestly.  “My head’s a little clearer, anyway.”

“You woke up a couple of times,” Lia said.  “I wasn’t sure what I should do, but you settled down within a few minutes.  You seemed to sleep pretty well after that, though.”

“I remember,” I told her.  “How long was I out?”

“Almost six hours.”

Maybe it wasn’t a full night’s sleep, but it was a hell of a lot better than I had been getting.  I couldn’t have said I felt right, but at least I knew what was happening around me.  I leaned my head against her shoulder and touched my nose to her neck.  I wanted to turn her toward me and kiss her the way I knew she liked it but not with the guard watching over us.  I wasn’t much for public displays.

“Evan?”

“Hmm?”

“Tell me what happened.”

I tensed, wondering for a moment if she meant what I had done from the balcony of my apartment but understood pretty quickly that my display there wasn’t what she wanted to know.  I knew it before she even had a chance to confirm it.

“Tell me what happened to you over there.”

“Fuck.”  The word escaped from my throat like a rifle blast.  My hands clenched into fists as images of tanks, uniformed enlisted troops with their eyes wide and nervous, and sand filled my mind.  I shook my head to rid myself of the images, but it didn’t work.

“Please—I want to know.”

“No,” I said.  I pushed myself up using the wall as support and stumbled a little as I gained my footing.  Lia stood with me, her hand reaching out to touch my arm.

“Evan—I need to know so I can help you.  How else am I supposed to know what to do?”

I stared at her, breathing through my mouth and trying not to hyperventilate.  The thing was, I wanted to tell her—desperately so.  I wanted to tell her everything—even the shit I never told the military during debriefing.  But could I do it?  Could I relive all of it over again for the sake of total disclosure?  The guilt?  The pain?  The heat?  The fucking sand?

The door opened, and Mark stepped in.  His eyes darted back and forth as he tried to assess the situation.  The noise and movement startled me, and I swallowed hard before taking a step back and breaking my connection with Lia completely.

“No.”

“Evan–” she called as she reached for me again.

“No!” I screamed and shoved her away.

She stumbled, and her back hit the wall behind her.  Mark stepped up and reached for her, his hands grasping her arms to steady her and keep her from falling.  Without hesitation, the guard grabbed me, yelled for backup, and wrestled me to the table.  I didn’t resist—I knew when a fight was pointless.  I knew that all too well.

“Don’t ask me.”  I kept eye contact with her, pleading from the tabletop.  “Please don’t ask me that.”

Lia stared at me, wide-eyed with tears forming on her lashes.  I didn’t want her to be upset, but I couldn’t do what she was asking.  I couldn’t go through all of that again.

Two other guards came in, but it must have been evident that I wasn’t protesting because they only helped get my hands back into the cuffs so I could be led out of the room and away from Lia and Mark.

Keep the crazy man away from the public.

Shit, this wasn’t going to help at all.

I closed my eyes as I was yanked back up to a standing position and pushed toward the door.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“It’s okay,” Lia responded.  Her hand reached toward me, but with the guards in the way, she couldn’t quite touch.  “It’ll be all right.”

I shook my head and smiled a little, wishing I could believe her words as she watched me being hauled away from her in cuffs once again.  How could it ever be all right?  As long as I worked for Moretti and the organization, Lia would be in danger if she were associated with me.

Nothing could be done to change that.

Chapter 4—Desperate Thoughts

As we reached the cell block where I was housed, the guard from the visitor’s room decided he didn’t need backup anymore and dismissed the others.  He was quite a bit rougher than he needed to be as he shoved me down the hall, apparently trying to cause me to trip over my own feet.  He sneered and curled half his face into a nasty little smile, and I remembered how he seemed ready to tell Mark about my connections.  I glared at him as I sized him up.

He was in his mid-forties, overweight, and bald.  There was a wedding ring on his left ring-finger and a scar on the back of his left hand that looked like it would have required several stitches, but the wound had obviously occurred a long time ago.  His uniform was neatly pressed, and he had a closely trimmed moustache but no other facial hair.  He had recently shaved his head, and there was no discernible stubble anywhere.

So how does a prison unit guard know about me?

There were only a handful of possibilities, the most likely being that he was once either part of vice or homicide in the police department but had somehow ended up here instead.  That kind of career switch definitely wasn’t considered a promotion and would almost certainly be the result of disciplinary action of some kind.  As I looked him over, I knew I wasn’t going to find anything useful enough in either his demeanor or clothing to give me that kind of information, so I was going to have to improvise and hope my guesswork was on target.

I glanced at his shirt.  Over the left breast pocket was a plastic nametag reading “Sgt. Masterson” in white letters on a black background.

“Masterson?”

He narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“Bet the guys on the force still have a good laugh thinking about you spending your time playing valet to a bunch of lowlifes, huh?”

His eyes narrowed and the smirk disappeared.  He started to open his mouth, but I cut him off.

“Nothing makes you feel more useless than being thrown into a shit job some pissant, high school football player could handle.  I bet the wife got a kick out of the pay cut, too, didn’t she?”

I stopped walking, and my arms jerked a little as he kept moving forward.  Like I figured he would, he shoved my back to get me going again, making me stumble.

“Makes you feel like you’ve got a foot-long cock, pushing me around, doesn’t it?  You believe because you think you know a little something that you have some sort of power in this relationship, but you don’t.  Shove me around all you want; it doesn’t change a damn thing.”

“You need to shut your mouth, Arden,” he growled quietly.

“Now there’s a topic I would like to discuss,” I replied.  “You ever consider discussing my personal business with someone again, and I’ll make sure you find out just how accurate your information is.”

“You threatening me, Arden?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I replied.  “What could someone in my position do to someone like you…or maybe your family…from in here?”

As every sarcastic word flowed from my mouth to his ears, I raised an eyebrow and stared right into his eyes until he looked away.  I didn’t need any further words, though—I’d made my point, and the look in his eyes showed his understanding.  He obviously wasn’t an idiot.  It didn’t matter that he currently had me in handcuffs and was bringing me back to a locked room.  He knew my reach extended far beyond the walls that held me prisoner.

“I hope you end up going away for a long time, Arden,” he said.

“Doubtful,” I replied.  “After all, I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?”

He mumbled something under his breath, but I couldn’t make it out.  We’d arrived at my cell door, and though there were a dozen or so inmates in the common area playing checkers and bumper pool, apparently I wasn’t on the approved list.

I suppose he did have a little control there, but I didn’t give a shit.

With a shove from Masterson, I was propelled back into my cell.  The cuffs were removed, and as I was left alone, the confusion and disassociation from before I had slept gave way to anger and frustration.  With few options available in the tiny room, I mindlessly took it out on the furniture.

Well, the mattress, chair, and pillow at least—everything else was bolted down.

It was extremely dissatisfying and quickly over.  I had wreaked all the destruction I could, which was certainly by design, so I dropped down on the floor with my head in my hands and growled at myself.  The mattress dropped from its precarious position against the wall and hit my leg, so I kicked at it until it fell away from me.

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment and told myself to stop talking out loud when there wasn’t anyone else around.  I considered it a symptom of losing my mind, and if the past was any indication, it was a fairly accurate sign.  The more I did it, the less likely it was that I was thinking clearly.

Focus.

Before I could do anything else, I needed to get my shit together.  I needed to stop with the fucking dreams and flashbacks—but how did I do that?

“Lia.”  At least I whispered this time.

She was the key.  With her, I could sleep, avoid the dreams, and gain some clarity.  The problem was that having her anywhere near me—even while I was incarcerated—was a dangerous situation for her, and she didn't deserve any of this. She shouldn't have to concern herself with my fucked up life, but that was exactly what she'd been drawn into.

I knew deep inside that I should just let her go– refuse to see her again and maybe do something obnoxious to drive her away.  Of course, she had already witnessed me at my worst and didn’t seem to be running away yet.

Well, sort of my worst.  There were things she hadn’t seen and things she didn’t know about that she might consider far worse than what she had witnessed.  I didn’t really know how she would feel about that, and I didn’t want to find out just what sort of expression might cross her face if she became aware of my job description.

That led me to another thought: I had no idea how she would react to my professional activities because I really didn’t know that much about her.  I didn’t even know where she was from or what she did for a living.  She’d pelted me with a lot of questions during the thirty or so hours we had spent together, and I had answered them like a fool, but I hadn’t asked her much about herself.

What did I know about her?

She had an ex-fiancé who drank a lot and got nasty with her, up to and including both smacking her on at least one occasion and shoving her out of a moving car in the middle of the desert.  I also knew her father had died of cancer, and her mother lived in Phoenix.  Mom didn’t like the ex.

William.

I’d practically offered to kill the guy for being an asshole, and she’d flinched from me.  That actually told me a lot, at least as far as process of elimination.  She wasn’t used to a life of violence other than a drunken, abusive boyfriend, which meant all the shit I was involved in would probably freak her the hell out.

She liked her sex rough, though.

She had been the most turned on when I was holding her down and slamming into her from behind.  I could practically feel the way her body gripped my cock as she came on me.  I remembered that with the utmost clarity, almost to the point where the memory was going to give me a hard-on.  It was only my unfortunate surroundings that kept me from considering jacking off to the images in my head.

Just what I need—the asshole guard peeking at me through the window when I have my dick out.

I shook my head and thought about what else had transpired during my brief time with Lia.

I’d told her my full name, which was probably how she managed to track me down at all.  I’d told her I was retired from the Marines and that she didn’t want to know anything else about me.

What else did I know about her?

Nothing.

No wait—there was one more thing I knew, and it was kind of the key to my whole situation.  I knew I would do anything and everything for her, no questions asked.  I couldn’t really frame in my own head why that was, only that the moment I woke up in the Arizona cabin lying with her on that tiny bed, I had been hers.

The most bizarre thought came into my head.  It wasn’t the thought itself that was so strange but more the fact that I had never considered it before.

What if I left the organization?  What if I went to Rinaldo after all of this was over and told him I didn’t want to be a hit man anymore?  What if I told him I wanted to retire?  I had plenty of money stashed away—mostly in cash but a bit in foreign accounts as well.  It might not be enough to live on indefinitely, but it was a damn good start.

Did anyone ever do that?

Not that I had ever seen.  Feet first was the only way out of this kind of business as far as I knew.  I’d never paid attention though.  Could it be that there were some out there who had just moved on with their lives?  If there were, was that something Rinaldo would let me do?

Could I really even live like that—off the edge, keeping my hands clean?  Was that even remotely possible, or would I always be drawn to violence and death like I had in the past?

If I told Lia everything, would she still go with me?

“Fuck it.  This is stupid.”

Too many fucking questions and no way to get answers from where I was.  I rubbed the heels of my hands into my eyes and looked around at the room.  With an audible sigh, I hauled myself back onto my feet and tossed the mattress back onto the bed frame before flopping down on it, grabbing the pillow to my chest and staring at the toilet in the corner.  My eyes started to hurt with the strain of staring, so I closed them for a moment.

My body was still tired, but my mind was far too active for rest.  As the possibilities for the future clambered around in my head, the idea became more and more attractive.

I had always been one of Rinaldo’s favorites, ever since Jonathan brought me to him, and I took out a guy he wanted put down the very next day.  I was like a son to him, and he was like my father.  What father wouldn’t allow his son to follow his dreams, right?  Especially when he’d done so much for the father already.

Fat fucking chance.

Still, if he were going to allow anyone to leave the organization, it would be me.  Hell, he allowed Nick, his illegitimate son, to basically ignore all the business shit that went on around him.  The guy didn’t do a damn thing to earn his keep unless fucking every other woman he met and smoking weed were something he planned on putting on his resume.

I hadn’t thought about Nick with everything else going down, and I recalled the last conversation I had with Rinaldo on the topic of his son, who had apparently found himself an actual girlfriend, as opposed to a convenient fuck.  Of course, he managed to pick Milena Severinov, the most inconvenient girl he could possibly have chosen to have hanging out in his bed.

Rinaldo had been concerned—Milena was the niece of one of Rinaldo’s rivals in the Russian mob, though she didn’t seem to have anything to do with it herself.  Her brother, Micah Severinov, was one I knew.  He had been quickly added to my kill roll within the first month of his arrival in Chicago. I just hadn’t gotten around to him yet.  I almost did the night I came face-to-face with him at Sweetwater, but Nick had gotten in the way, basically telling me not to go after him for the sake of the chick he was banging.  I had planned to follow up on it with Rinaldo but ended up finding out about Bridgett before I had the chance.

Maybe if I offered to take out the whole Severinov family, Rinaldo would consider letting me go.  It would probably piss Nick off, but I really didn’t give a shit about how he felt.  I needed to figure out how I could both protect Lia and stay with her at the same time.  I was willing to consider any and all alternatives to getting what I wanted.

I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.  My head might have been clear, but my thoughts were still leaning toward the impractical if not quite insane.  I had to figure out what strategy would allow me to end up with Lia in some remote area far away from Chicago and the people who knew me based on the business I conducted.

I wasn’t going to be able to do any of that shit from where I was at the moment.  Unfortunately, this was going to be a waiting game as much as anything else.  Michael Beard, the attorney, and Rinaldo obviously had some sort of plan, and I was going to have to be patient enough to wait for it to come to fruition.

Patience wasn’t my best attribute.

Still, first things first.  Before I could figure out how to plan a life with Lia, assuming she was even interested, I had to get out of this place.

* * *

Rinaldo’s visit had been expected.  Even when my head wasn’t working quite right, I knew he would be coming to see me.  Now, whether he brought a lawyer or someone to kill me right there in the visiting area was anyone’s guess, but showing his face wasn’t.  He’d need to look me in the eye and make sure whatever the fuck I had done was about me and not about him.  He needed to know I hadn’t betrayed him.

Lia’s visit was a little more jolting, but if I had been in my right mind, I would have figured it was going to happen.  After all, she had seen me carted off by a SWAT team and was taking care of my dog. It made sense for her to show up.

The third visit though—that one caught me completely off guard and was bound to end very badly for me.

Two men.

Dark suits.

They were escorted by a short, ginger-haired man I hadn’t met but still recognized as the prison warden.  He looked from me to the other men but didn’t say a word as he leaned over, spoke into the guard’s ear, and then escorted him out of the room.  As he walked near the door, he reached up and pulled the cord for the security camera out of the wall.

Shit.

I saw the red light on the side of the machine go dim and then watched the suits as they sat down at the table across from me.  The cuffs holding me to the bolted-down chair scraped against the chains as my hands briefly clenched into fists and then released again.

The man on the right was in his late forties, and he just stared at me without any particular expression on his pale face.  The lack of emotion wasn’t a natural thing for him—he was having to work at it pretty hard to keep it going.  There was a spot on his cheek that twitched every few seconds, telling me he didn’t feel at all comfortable with trying to portray himself that way.  He looked a little awkward in the chair as well but kept himself poised.  His suit was tailored, but there were crumbs from a sandwich or something on the lapel, so he wasn’t used to being dressed as nicely as he was.  He had salt-and-pepper hair and matching beard.

The other one, though—he was a puzzle.

He was big—really big.  Bigger than Mario, even.  His head had been shaved close with no marks around it to tell if he shaved it for the sake of the look or if he did it because he had already lost all of his hair anyway.  He was in his mid thirties, maybe, and had dark, curly hair around his wrists that stuck out of his cuffs.  His suit was also tailored but extremely neat.  He even removed the jacket, folded it neatly, and laid it across the back of the chair before he seated himself and looked into my eyes.

His eyes looked familiar, but I was sure I had never met him before.

He smiled, and there was nothing the least bit friendly about the look.  He reached his hand out toward me as he spoke.

“Mister Arden, my name is Agent Trent, and this is Agent Johnson.  It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Most adults, when offered a hand in greeting, reflexively hold out their right hand without question.  Without a doubt, this was the response Trent was expecting.  It was a calculated and cold move, given the current state of my bound wrists.  If I had been the kind of guy who immediately responded in the most polite of ways, I would have fallen for the move and been noisily reminded of the chains attaching my arms to the chair.

I wasn’t that kind of guy, though, so I didn’t move.  Trent narrowed his eyes the tiniest amount but recovered within a second.  Completely relaxed again, the corner of his mouth turned up slightly as I raised a brow.

I was instantly glad I had managed to get some actual sleep.  If I hadn’t, I might have missed his ploy and therefore misjudged him.  With my mind back in the game, my perception was strong.  I recognized immediately that he was definitely my opponent.

He wasn’t going to be a quick win, though, whatever the game was going to be.  Regardless, he’d already made a mistake.  The most interesting part of the short exchange was the obvious lack of research Trent had done.  He was expecting me to act in a certain way, but he was wrong, and his initial mind-fuck was wasted on me.  If he had done his research, he would have gone with another approach, like an officer’s uniform and a salute.

I probably would have responded to that.

Instead, I continued to eye him carefully.  I made sure my expression was emotionless as I glanced from his outstretched hand to my bound right wrist and then up to his eyes.  I raised my eyebrow again and waited.

“Ah, yes,” Trent said, “I suppose we’ll have to stick with a hello.”

He dropped his hand and tapped twice on the table as he settled in his seat.  There wasn’t any reason for the tap, I was sure of that.  If there had been any kind of “code” between the two men, Johnson obviously didn’t know about it.  He glanced toward the sound, but his expression didn’t change.  He was having too much trouble keeping up the façade for his expression to remain the same if he was being given orders of some kind.

What reason then?

To make me paranoid.

I was positive that I was right, and I felt my back stiffen a little as my body and mind went into a heightened state of alert.  I had no idea what these two were about, but Trent was a definite threat.

“Time for things to change a little around here, Mister Arden.”

Nothing about this could possibly be in my best interest, so I braced myself and waited.

Chapter 5—Unavoidable Agreement

I wasn’t sure if I was waiting for a bullet or not, but I was a little surprised when Trent, the guy with the crazy smile, reached into his briefcase and pulled out a bunch of papers. I was not surprised by the FBI seals on both the papers and the envelopes inside the briefcase.

I was definitely on edge as he displayed the papers out on the table.  Even if his first trap hadn’t managed to catch me, I was quite sure Trent wasn’t someone I could just ignore.  I had the feeling talking my way out of this one wasn’t going to work either, and shooting my way out of it wasn’t an option.

Currently.

“Let’s see what we have here…” Trent let his voice trail off, cleared his throat, and then indicated a list of—appropriately enough—bullet points on the page.  “Possession of unregistered firearms, public endangerment, unlawful discharge of firearms, inciting panic, and of course, the really good one—terrorism.”

I was taken aback but tried not to show it.  That charge hadn’t been on the list of charges Moretti and Michael Beard had discussed when they came to see me.

“That last one is the one I find most interesting, seeing as it is a matter of federal law, not just the state of Illinois.  I had to pull a couple of strings to get that officially on the list.  It was even more difficult getting the timing exactly right.  I had to wait until your boss and his tricky lawyer thought they had everything under control.  I suppose they wanted to leave your little display under vandalism or something.  Anything to appease your boss, hmm?”

I remained completely still.

“At this point, your lawyer won’t see the new charge until after we’re done here.  He’ll spend half the day getting it removed, but it won’t matter—I’m already here.”  Trent shuffled some papers around in the briefcase.  “Did I miss anything?”

“There’s also a woman from your neighborhood who wants to press attempted murder charges against you on behalf of Glenda, her Yorkshire Terrier,” Johnson added.  “I honestly don’t think the judge plans to honor that one, though.”

“Fuck the bitch,” Trent said with a smile.  “Get it?  Bitch?  The dog is a girl.”

Johnson laughed, right on cue.

“Anyway,” Trent continued, “with the terrorism charge in place, it opened the doors up wide for me to move in and check you out like I’ve never been able to before, and I have to admit it is a bit of a pleasure for me.  You know—seeing you in chains.”

He waved his hand toward me and kept up the obnoxious grin.

“I know a lot about you, Mister Arden,” Trent said, “or should I call you Evan?”

I didn’t respond.  This kind of game was best played with as little talk as possible.

“Lieutenant, possibly?  No, not that.  You really aren’t one anymore, are you?”

I remained silent and motionless.

“So tell me something,” he said.  “Were you always a murderer, and that’s why you became a sniper in the first place, or did you learn it from the insurgents?  I don’t see how you were in their hands for all that time without turning traitor, personally.”

My flesh went cold and my throat seized up.

I knew exactly what the asshole was doing, but that didn’t stop the blood in my veins from running cold, nor did it stop me from forming fists out of my hands and creating mental images of pummeling Trent into the cold cement floor.

He wasn’t the first to suggest it.  In fact, the CIA had spent a good week questioning me when I returned from the Middle East.  I answered their questions over and over again, finally losing my shit altogether.  They had their suspicions about another Marine who had been rescued—one that had given up information and ultimately gave away my unit’s position—and wanted to pull me into it as well. Yes, Al Qaeda members tried to get me to turn.  They tried every fucking tactic they could dream up, but I never gave in.

I never told them a damn thing.

Loyalty.

I closed my eyes, drew in a long, slow breath, and then looked back up at him.  Like the handshake, he was doing all of this on purpose—trying to goad me into reacting stupidly.  I wasn’t going to be that easy to break, though.  I’d dealt with a lot worse than this asshole.

“Do you have anything you’d like to add to the list?” Trent asked as he smiled at me again and waved the paper around.  “There have been an extraordinary number of deaths from long-range weapons since you moved into the area.  Care to confess to any of them?”

I continued to watch Trent.

“Maybe he’d like a few names and pictures,” Johnson suggested.

“I’d like to contact my lawyer,” I said.

“Nah.”  Trent shook his head.  “Your lawyer can go fuck himself.  I don’t talk to lawyers.”

Any thoughts I had that these guys might have been on the law-abiding side of the feds went out the window.  Rinaldo had dealt with the feds plenty of times, but I had always been kept out of sight.  He knew any information about me would be dangerous to him, so I was removed from any and all contact.  When they were in town, I went underground until they left.

Johnson took some notes down on a pad of paper from the briefcase, and Trent leaned back in his chair and kept up the creepy smile.

“I’ve spent way too much time getting this close to you, Arden,” he said.  “There’s no way I’d muddy the conversation with a lot of lawyer bullshit.  Your boss always did a good job of keeping you out of sight, but he can’t help you right now.  Your lawyer would just be in my way.  Besides, lawyers hate it when I rough up their clients.”

He laughed, and Johnson cracked a smile.  Trent leaned forward and raised his eyebrows.

“Sometimes I do it just for fun and not because you won’t answer my questions.  I just enjoy that shit.  Especially when it comes to trumped-up mafia shits who think they’re above and beyond any kind of reckoning, you know?  Well, of course you know; you enjoy a little brutality now and again, don’t you?”

I knew it was coming.  I didn’t need to watch his hand curl into a fist or follow its movements to my jaw.  I couldn’t have moved enough to get out of the way, and with my hands restrained, I couldn’t defend myself, so I took it in silence.

The blow cut the inside of my lip on my teeth, and I dragged my tongue across the wound as I looked back up at Trent and waited for another blow.  It came quickly, this time up close to my left eye.  My head jerked to the opposite side as a dull throbbing in my temple blurred my vision enough that the next blow to my jaw caught me off guard.

I took a slow breath through my nose, gathered some of the blood in my mouth with my tongue, and spit it out onto the table right in front of Trent.  With narrowed eyes, I watched for his next move.

He laughed.

“I suppose you got used to that kind of shit, didn’t you?  All that time with a bunch of Jihad-happy insurgents smacking you around.  Probably took it up the ass, too, didn’t ya?”

I stayed still though I couldn’t help the rapid flutter of my eyelids at the remark.  If I had still been without sleep, I would have been dragged right back there to the desert and probably would have lost my mind for good.  Instead, I just swallowed hard, focused on his face, and waited.

“Military hero,” Trent sneered.  “What kind of hero gets his entire unit killed but somehow manages to survive himself?  Where’s that report, Johnson?”

“Here you are.”  Johnson handed Trent a collection of papers held together with a clip.

“Recognize this?”  Trent held up the first page, which contained a Marine logo at the top and a CIA stamp on the bottom.

I did recognize it, but I didn’t answer.

“This report is from your interrogation after you were brought back to the U.S.  There are a lot of questions about how you managed to survive for so long.  Why did they keep you alive, dickhead?  Was it because you were converted?  Did you lead them to your location and get your unit killed off?  Give up the other base running parallel to yours?”

“There was no such evidence,” I snarled back.  “There were no charges.  I was found in a fucking hole, you asshole!  And that was a debriefing, not an interrogation!”

“Finally got a rise out of you, huh?” he smirked.

“Fuck you.  No action was taken—no charges.”

Stop it, I told myself.  This is what he wants.

“Yeah, yeah,” Trent said as he waved his hand dismissively.  “There haven’t been any murder charges brought up against you either, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t been on a killing rampage since you arrived in this city.”

I turned my eyes to the top of the table, refusing to be further engaged.  I wasn’t planning on letting him get to me at all, and I definitely couldn’t let him get under my skin again.  I had to keep myself prepared for more shit remarks about my capture or the debriefing.

He must have realized I wasn’t going to be further goaded because he finally got to the point.

“Here’s the thing,” Trent said as he leaned forward on his elbows.  “I’ve been waiting a long time to actually have something I could use on you that your piece-of-shit boss couldn’t just talk or bribe his way out of it for you, and I finally have it.”

I wasn’t going to let myself be baited into asking what he meant, so I sat there and said nothing as Trent motioned to Johnson’s briefcase.  Johnson opened it up and pulled out a stapled set of papers.  The very first page had two boxes with images in them resembling a graphic equalizer display.  There were rows of vertical bars with smaller horizontal bars going through the middle of them.  Both boxes showed the exact same image.

“Do you know what that is?”

I actually had an idea—I’d seen enough crime shows on television, but I didn’t let on.  With a shrug, I just looked back at him and waited.

“It’s a DNA report,” he said.  “See how the two samples match?”

I shrugged again, and he pointed to one of the two images.

“This one here—this is from the swab they took from your mouth when you were booked,” he said.  His finger moved over to the other image.  “That’s a pretty common practice, you know.  They even do it on dead bodies that are found lying around.”

He watched me, presumably looking for a reaction, but I gave him nothing.

“Guess where this one came from?” Trent pressed.

I didn’t answer.  It could have come from a million places—I wasn’t overly careful about leaving shit like trace evidence behind—my kills were from afar.  If this guy thought he was going to use DNA evidence to link me to a sniper shooting, he was crazy.

“This was taken from the dead lips of one Brad Ashton.”

Fuck me.

Of all the victims they could have tried to nail me with, they went after the most high-profile one they could possibly find.  I’d been far more careful with him than I had with others because he was a well-known, highly paid movie actor and I was doing him up close.  He also owed my boss a lot of money in gambling debts, which was all I really cared about.  He knew Rinaldo was after him, and his security had made it very difficult to target him from afar, which was why I had to go a slightly less conventional route.

Using his affection for well-built guys like myself, I came on to him, encouraged him, and led him off to a hotel room to drug and kill him.  In the process, he’d made it to first base and had certainly made a grab for second.  As a sniper, I usually didn’t get close enough to my victims to think about leaving DNA anywhere near the scene, but Brad had been best lured with my mouth.  Thankfully, I hadn’t actually had sex with him, or the DNA evidence could have been even more incriminating.

I made a point of not reacting as I watched Trent and Johnson watch me.  I didn’t see any reason to respond to them since anything and everything I said wouldn’t just be used against me in a court of law but here in this room right now.

“Must have used a condom,” Trent said with a smirk.  “We didn’t find any cum on him.  I’d heard you were an ass man.  I guess that’s true, huh?”

Johnson snickered again as Trent wriggled his eyebrows at me.  I tensed my fingers on the arms of the chair but kept my silence.

“I bet your mob buddies would get a kick out of all this, wouldn’t they?  Finding out you fucked one of your kills, and a dude at that.  What’s that, Arden?  I can’t hear ya.”

Johnson snorted and shook his head a bit.  He never made eye contact with me, though.  He kept all his attention on Trent, awaiting his instructions.  However, Trent seemed much more interested in harassing me instead of addressing his partner.  He leaned back in the chair until the front two legs came up off the floor.

“So here’s the deal,” Trent said.  “With this evidence, I own your sniper-happy ass.  That means I call the shots, and when you get out of here, you’re going to go right back to Rinaldo Moretti’s business, and you’re going to help me bring him in.”

I couldn’t hold back any longer—I laughed out loud.

“Did you really think that after being in a hole for eighteen months you could threaten me with prison?”  I laughed again.  “Fuck you.  Fuck you, your DNA evidence, and whatever other shit you think you have on me.  None of it makes a fucking difference.”

“Well, all right, you got me there.”  Trent dropped the chair back down on the ground with a thump.  “I admit I figured you weren’t too scared of the idea of being in chains again.  I mean, you get used to it, don’t you?  You probably learned to love it.”

I looked away from him and took a deep breath.

“I watched that vid from the other day,” Trent said.  “That’s a hot little piece of ass you’ve acquired.  Lia Antonio, I believe?”

I turned to him with a glare, trying to threaten him as much as I could with my eyes alone.

“Does she know?” Trent’s voice dropped down low.  “Does she know all about your escapades?  I bet she’d like to know.”

I continued to glare at him, but inside, my mind was racing.  I couldn’t let her find out about me—not like that.  Even beyond everything else, I couldn’t let her watch me go to prison with rumors flying that I had fucked the guy I killed.

“I understand her fiancé has put out a missing persons report on her,” Johnson said.  His mouth turned up into a bit of a smile.

“Oh, that’s right!”  Trent snapped his fingers.  “Maybe we’ll just give him a call and let him know where she is.”

“Leave her alone,” I said with deadly calm.

“Don’t think so,” Trent replied.  “Frankly, I’m getting tired of playing with you.  You don’t want to cooperate, so maybe I’ll go question her and see what she knows.”

“She doesn’t know anything.”

Trent stood up and slammed his briefcase shut.

“I’ll just have to find that out for myself.”  He turned to head to the door.

Once again, I knew exactly what he was doing.  However, this time it didn’t make any difference.  He had me, and we both knew it.

“Wait.”  I made eye contact with him as he turned around and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Don’t waste my time,” Trent said.

“There has to be something else I can give you,” I said.

“The offer is as it stands,” Trent replied.  “You give me Moretti, and I give you your freedom to go fuck up your life some more.  I’ll still be riding your ass for the fun of it because I doubt it will last.  You’d have a bit of time to shove your cock in Miss Antonio for a while longer, though.”

“No,” I replied, ignoring his crude remarks.  “Another way.”

“I’m not having a fucking debate with you, Arden.”

“Not Moretti.”  My mind raced.  There had to be an alternative—something else I could do to satisfy Trent that didn’t include bringing down the one person who held my undying loyalty—the one I couldn’t betray.  “It…it wouldn’t work.  They’d know if I was…doing something different.  Out of the ordinary.”

It was a line of bullshit.  The people who worked closely with me were used to me doing the unexpected, and anything out of the ordinary would be consider yet another one of my idiosyncrasies.

“Then I’m going to go have a visit with your little lady friend and see just what all she knows about your activities.”

I took a couple of slow, deep breaths to focus myself.  I had to think—what else would a man like Trent want?  Nothing but a big takedown would work for him, and Moretti was it around here.  Maybe if we were in New York and I knew more about the people there, I could offer to infiltrate and bring down an organization larger than Moretti’s but not around here.

But there were other organizations, other families…

“I’ll give you Gavino Greco,” I stated.  My eyes met with his.  “Not just him, but the Severinovs, his Russian associates.  You’d get them all—two families for the price of one.”

Trent eyed me carefully, and I could practically see the little wheels in his head spinning.  He didn’t care about Moretti specifically—he was probably just looking for the next big promotion, and any major crime lord bust would work for him.

“How are you going to do that?” he asked.

“That’s my problem, isn’t it?”

“If I don’t believe you can do it, it’s my problem, too.”

“I can do it,” I promised.  “Greco will jump at the chance to have me on his side.  He has so many enemies, his kill roll has to look like Santa’s shopping list.  I can get his trust as far as I would need to.”

“You’ve taken out a few of his people.”

I wasn’t going to respond to such a direct accusation.  Even though he had me, and the cameras weren’t rolling, I wasn’t going to make all this shit easy for him.  In the back of my head, I was hoping to just bide enough time to figure out what I could do to get both myself and Lia out of this completely.

“He’ll buy it,” I said.  “I know he will.”

He leaned over and tapped the tabletop with his finger.

“You think you can do that?  Deliver them both to me?”

“Dead or alive?” I asked.

“Alive, asshole.  I need a bust, not a body.”

“I can do it,” I said with conviction.  “But you stay away from Lia Antonio.”

“I suppose I could agree to that.”  Trent nodded.  “You get me Greco and Severinov, and I’ll have that DNA evidence removed from the database.”

His nasty little smile came back.  I wasn’t stupid enough to trust the asshole, but I had to ask.

“How do I know you won’t just use all that shit against me later?”

“Well, here’s the thing,” Trent said.  “You really don’t.  That’s not one of my problems, though.  You’ll just have to go with how trustworthy I look and hope for the best.  You don’t have much of a choice here.”

“You going to let me take care of two families and then continue to suck me dry?”

“If that’s what you’re into,” Trent said with a nod.  “I guess we could always go back and look for more evidence farther back in Ashton’s throat.  I’ll be in touch, Mister Arden.”

He and Johnson stood together and walked out the door.  A minute later, I was taken back to my cell.  No one asked me about my busted lip; I was just led quietly back to my cell and tossed inside to come up with what the fuck I was going to do to get out of all of this.

I was going to have to find some way to help Trent get Greco and Severinov behind bars.

I would have rather just killed him.

I was taking a chance, a huge chance.  They were leaving me with very few options, though.  Brad Ashton’s death wasn’t something Rinaldo could just bribe my way out of—it was far too public.  Fans on Twitter and Facebook were demanding some kind of action on the case, and if it were to be discovered that I was not only his killer but also intimate with him?  Even if it was only kissing, the implications were staggering.

It wasn’t a matter of reputation—I didn’t give a shit if someone thought I was gay or not.  It was the fact that I had been so careless—so sloppy—as to leave evidence like that behind.  Rinaldo would have a totally different opinion.  He wouldn’t like the idea that his number one enforcer was in the closet, true or imagined.  It wouldn’t matter to him.  In his eyes, it would make me weaker, and weaker wouldn’t serve him better.

The chances of him bringing a lawyer to represent me on that case were pretty much nil.

Then there was Lia.  I couldn’t bring myself to regret her coming to see me—I needed her—but it had also put her far too close to me, which made her a target as well.  If Trent knew about her, others would find out soon enough if I didn’t do something to protect her.  I wasn’t sure if Trent had the idea of telling her in his back pocket the whole time and played me up with the evidence and shit just to get me going, but my guess was that he probably did.  Rinaldo had warned me about being attached to people on many, many occasions.  He even warned me about Bridgett, though I hadn’t realized how close to her I was at the time.

“Getting close to a girl,” Rinaldo said, “can be a good thing.  If you were someone else—someone less complicated—the worst that can happen is you don’t work out.  You’re a complicated man, Arden, and you are in a complicated position.  Bitches make it even more complicated.”

“I’m aware, sir.”

“You’re aware,” he mocked.  “Will that change anything when someone finds out you give a shit?  What better to hold over your head than a warm cunt, huh?  You take better care not to show your affection for her.  You’ve done a shit job on that front with that pup of yours.”

It didn’t matter in the end.  They tried to use Bridgett against me, but whatever we had between us wasn’t more important than my loyalty to Rinaldo Moretti.  It didn’t stop me from killing her for her betrayal.

But with Lia?  That was another subject.  If she did something like Bridgett had done, I wasn’t sure how I would react.  Bridgett was a convenient fuck and useful for helping me sleep, but Lia meant something completely different—something I couldn’t put into words or even thoughts.

Regardless of the outcome, I couldn’t betray Rinaldo.  Never that.  It wasn’t just about a paycheck or the fact that he gave me a job and a reason to be out walking around in the world—it was a lot more than that.  Like my unnamed feelings for Lia, I couldn’t express why I felt the loyalty I did, but it wasn’t something I could drop because of the threat of a prison sentence.

I wasn’t sure I could even drop it for Lia’s sake.

I shook my head and leaned against the cell wall to stare out the windows at the cars and people far below.  It was too difficult to think in this place.  I needed to get outside and maybe get in a little target practice to get my mind really functioning again.

I wondered if I’d ever see my Barrett again.

It was most certainly taken in as evidence and very possibly lost to me at this point.  I could get another one, but that one had been with me for a long time—bought it outright when I was discharged.  It had taken most of the money I had at the time, but it was the only way I could stay focused.  I needed the feel of the cool metal in my hands as my finger pulled back on the trigger and the recoil pressed hard against my shoulder.  Watching rounds go into a target through the scope was the only time I felt at peace.

Well, maybe peace wasn’t exactly the right word, but it stopped me from panicking.

I sighed and brought myself back to the present long enough to consider who I knew in Greco’s organization well enough to approach them and convince them my loyalties were now up for grabs.  I couldn’t come up with any of the people who hadn’t had the barrel of my Beretta pointed at their faces during one intense encounter or another.  I’d also killed off the cousin of Greco’s mistress once upon a time, though he didn’t know it was me.

The guard called to out to me—it was time to eat what they tried to pass off as food around here.  I wasn’t hungry and would have rather stayed in my cell and plotted in silence, but skipping meals wasn’t an option.  Despite the need to come up with a plan, I needed my resources in the outside world.

Nothing could be done from here, so I was just going to have to wait.

Chapter 6—Intense Reconnection

I couldn’t even pretend to be surprised when Masterson came to my cell and informed me that I had been let out on bond.  He’d only been told of an unscheduled hearing which went favorably for me, but I doubted the meeting had even taken place.  Trent’s resources were on the ball, no doubt about that.

I was going to have to play all of this really, really carefully.

First things first.

“Can I make a call?”

“It’s not my fucking decision,” Masterson grumbled as he led me out of the unit.  “You can ask the warden.”

The unit supervisor let me call while my things were brought out of their storage area.  The phone only rang twice before I heard a familiar voice on the other end.

“Mark Duncan.”

“Hello, it’s Evan Arden.  I need a favor.”

“Of course, Evan—what do you need?”

“You remember the girl who came here?”  I rolled my eyes at myself and shook my head.  I was the deranged one; of course, he would remember.  “I was just hoping you had her contact information.  I don’t have my phone here.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Could you call her and ask her to come and get me?”

“Get you?”  He paused before continuing.  “Evan, where are you?”

I could practically see his face as he contemplated whether or not I had escaped and was now on the run.  I wondered if he was picking up his landline to call the cops on his escaped patient.

“I’m still at the MCC,” I told him.  “I’m being released.”

“Released?”

“Yeah.”  I never understood people’s desire to repeat words like that, but I tried not to let it annoy me.  It was probably the last thing he was expecting to hear from me.  “Can you call her?”

“Yes, I can,” he said.  “I just can’t believe no one contacted me.  When was this?”

“Just a little while ago, special hearing or something.  I don’t know. I just know I want out.”

“I can get you.”

“No, really—if you could call her and have her come, that would be great.  I need to sleep, but I’ll come and see you soon.”

I wasn’t going to, but he’d figure that out soon enough.

With the phone handed back to some woman behind a desk, I was taken to a small room and left alone with a cardboard box containing everything I had on me when I was brought in.  I reached in and pulled out the Marine-issue fatigues.  I didn’t want to put them back on, but I couldn’t exactly go out still wearing prison orange, so I quickly removed the jumpsuit.  I wasn’t about to put on the underwear I had been wearing at the time, so I left it in the box and pulled on the tan, camouflage-pattern pants commando-style.  My watch was next, then a pale grey T-shirt followed by the socks.  For some reason, the idea of dirty footwear didn’t seem as nasty to me as the boxers.  My boots and hat were in the box as well, and when I pulled them out, something dropped to the floor with a metallic clang.

My dog tags.

I picked them up and ran my finger over the raised letters.

ARDEN

EVAN N. USMC

047289

A NEG

CATHOLIC

I took a deep breath and tried to push away the plethora of memories the cool metal tried to conjure.  For the most part it worked—the tags only evoked pleasant memories.  The only real regret I had was labeling myself as Catholic, though as a seventeen-year-old, the response to the question had been automatic.

If there was a God, He didn’t have any love for me, so fuck Him.

I slipped the metal chain around my neck and tucked the tags inside my T-shirt before I laced up my boots, donned the hat, and left the room.  I had to sign a few more papers, but the process didn’t take that long.  I hoped that Lia had received my message by now and also that she wasn’t waiting for me for too long.

Without any other direction, I headed outside.  I looked up and down Van Buren Street but didn’t see any sign of Lia parked anywhere.  I walked to the corner of Van Buren and South Clark, but I didn’t see anyone there, either.  There didn’t seem to be any actual parking on the street close to the entrance, so it was hard to tell where she might have to go to park a car.

I dropped my ass to wait on a cement wall used as the foundation of a flower garden.

And wait.

After a while, I was beginning to get a little nervous.  Would Trent have already taken action, believing that I wouldn’t follow through with my end of this deal?  Would he have grabbed her and detained her just to have more leverage over me?

I leaned over, took off the hat, and dropped my head into one hand.

How long would it be before Rinaldo knew I had been released?  How long after that before he came looking for me?  At what point would he realize I wasn’t coming to him, send out a search party of sorts, and realize I was batting for the other team?

That was the most difficult part of all of this: he would have no idea that I was doing this to protect him.  There wasn’t going to be an easy way to get that message to him without alerting both Greco and Trent.

“Hey, Marine!”

I flinched, glanced to my right, and saw a guy in jeans and a sweatshirt approaching.  He reached down and grabbed my arm to shake my hand.

“I just want to thank you for your service,” he said in a thick southern accent.  “My cousin was a Marine, and you guys are the best!”

I didn’t have much time to react before he was off across the street, so I shook my head a little and watched, wondering if he had any idea what he was really saying, and if he’d still thank me if he knew everything.  When I first returned from active duty, a bunch of people said similar things to me, and I still I didn’t understand why they did.  I figured most of it was because I was in Virginia at the time, and they kept putting my picture up on television.

I needed to get the fuck out of these clothes.

There was a trash can near the wall where I sat, and a noise coming from it caught my attention.  A small rat made its way up a plastic bag and sat along the rim of the can, looking at me.

“Getting takeout?” I asked it.

The rodent looked to the sound of my voice before it scurried back down into the bottom of the can.

Looking up and down the sidewalk and the street, I still didn’t see any sign of Lia.  I checked my watch.  It had been a full forty minutes since I had contacted Mark to call her.  I wondered how far away she lived and if she had been caught in traffic or something.

Maybe she’s not coming.

It was more than possible that she had thought better of hanging out with a fucked up lunatic like me and refused to show up.  If that were the case, Mark would have contacted me—I was sure of that.  He would have at least called into the main office and had someone step outside and look for me.  Hell, considering how dedicated he was, he’d probably just show up here and offer me a ride.

How long was I going to wait?  An hour?  Two?

I wasn’t used to waiting for someone—depending on someone.  It just wasn’t a good idea.  I hadn’t relied on anyone since Corporal Martinez, my spotter during a mission in Afghanistan.  It had been cut short.  He was called back home, and I never saw him again.  Three weeks after that, during the last mission I was on, I was in charge and everyone was depending on me.  It didn’t do them any good, either.  All of that seemed like another lifetime ago despite how close it was in my sleep-time memories.  Since then, I hadn’t depended on anyone.

Not until now.

I didn’t like it, not in the least.  What if she had decided I wasn’t worth the effort?  As much as I might have agreed with her, the thought pissed me off.  Rinaldo was right—bitches weren’t worth the trouble.  Look at where I was now and what I was considering because of her.  If it weren’t for her, Trent would only have prison to hold over my head.

“Fuck it.”  I stood up and decided to start walking east on Van Buren.  I didn’t really know where I was going to go at this point and figured I might as well just walk to my apartment.  I had no idea what condition it might be in, or if the door was locked, or if the whole place had been cleaned out.  I also didn’t have anywhere else to go.  I gripped my fingers against my palms and tried to get some clarity in my head.

“Evan!”

I turned to the sound of my name and saw Lia walking quickly up the sidewalk from the other side of the building.  The relief I felt was frightening.  I felt my heart speed up in my chest at the very sight of her.  My arms ached to reach out and bring her close to me, and my cock throbbed at the possibilities her presence presented.

So much for not depending on anyone.

I unclenched my fists and turned around to move down the sidewalk to meet her.  The lunch crowd was milling around us, and as much as I might have wanted to pretend they weren’t there, rush up and pull her into my arms, I knew that wasn’t the least bit cautious, and I needed to be cautious.

I hesitated in my steps, stopped a couple feet in front of her, and just stared for a long moment.  The wind picked up some loose strands of her hair and blew them around her neck, drawing my gaze that way.  I recalled the salty taste of sweat in the same place as my cock moved inside of her, and thoughts of kissing her left my head as the desire to fuck her on the street grew in their place.

She took a step forward and began to reach for me, but I stopped her with a shake of my head.

“Not here,” I said quickly.  “Too many people.  We need to get out of the open.  Where are you staying?”

“I’ve got a place rented on the west side of the city,” Lia said.  “It’s not great, but it’s affordable.  It’s close to Rehm Park, so I have a good place to walk Odin.”

“Where’s your car?”

“I don’t have one.”

Shit.

“How did you get here?”

“The train.”

The one time I wanted to avoid public transportation, there wasn’t another option.  Fucking Murphy’s Law.

That did explain what took her so long.  Without many choices available, I grabbed her hand and led her over to the nearest Blue Line entrance.

“Shit,” I grumbled as we approached the station.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have my wallet or anything,” I said.  “My transit pass is in there.”

“I’ve got it.”

We had to go to the convenience store next to the station to get a one-day pass for me, then headed back toward the trains.  We waited for only a minute or two before the next train stopped, and I pulled Lia behind me as we slipped through the doors before they closed.

The car was crowded but not completely full.  There were two available seats facing the center of the car.  Riding sideways wasn’t my favorite position on a train, but it was better than facing backwards, which made me nauseated.

As soon as we sat, I could feel the tension in my body begin to rise again.

I noticed the similarities between this time and when Lia had first lain beside me in the cabin.  My heart was pounding in my chest, and even my skin felt tight around my muscles.  I tensed the muscles in my thighs as my brain was flooded with memories of her soft skin and the way she smelled in the morning—a combination of something sweet-tasting, laced with my own scent over her skin.  Back then, I had attributed the feelings I had toward her to just wanting to fuck because it had been a while, but I couldn’t think of it the same way now.  This time, it hadn’t been months since I had been with someone—only a couple of weeks.

“Yeah, and you killed her.”

“What was that?”

Shit.

“Nothing,” I muttered.  I silently thanked no one in particular for train noise.  Lia looked a little confused but didn’t press, so she must not have heard the words I said.

I looked from her eyes to her mouth and tried to remember exactly what she had tasted like when I kissed her.  The memory was there but not as vivid as some of the others.  I wanted to remind myself how it felt to press my mouth against hers and how her hair felt in my hands.

I wanted to relive every cum-covered moment—that’s what I wanted.

The train screeched, stopped, and the doors opened up.  People got off and others got on.  With a lurch, we were headed back down the tracks again only to go through the whole stop-start scenario over and over.  Each time, there were more people getting on than off, and the car quickly became standing room only.

“What stop again?” I asked her.

“Oak Park.”

Seven stops away.  I wasn’t going to be able to wait that long.

“Come on,” I said as the train slowed to a crawl and the doors slid open once more.

“Where are we going?” Lia asked as I dragged her from the train and through the station.

My eyes darted from left to right, trying to find any place even remotely suitable.  There wasn’t anything inside the station, so I led her out onto the street and toward a nearby office park.  Slipping between two buildings, I turned abruptly, grabbed her, and shoved her against the red brick.

My mouth covered hers, and my hands grabbed at her waist to pull her against me.  I felt her hands move up my shoulders, and her arms wrapped around my neck as she moaned into my mouth.  As I tasted her tongue, I was immediately transported back to our small, cramped, hot sanctuary in the middle of Arizona.  My cock pressed tightly against my fatigues as it felt the warmth of her body so close.  It obviously didn’t want to waste any time leaping out and doing exactly what needed to be done.

It was a matter of sanity.

“You still want it like this, don’t you?” I breathed against her lips as I broke our kiss.  My hands moved up her sides, then back down around to grip her ass.  “Hard and fast—right here against the fucking building.”

My hand found its way underneath her skirt, and my fingers slid up her thigh.  I could feel the edge of her lacy panties and quickly wrapped my fingers into the fabric.

“Evan…” My name on her tongue was a protest, so I stopped.

Leaning back slightly, I looked at her flushed face.  Her eyes were dilated, which made them appear almost black against her pale features.  Her eye makeup was smeared a little, and her breath was coming in gasps.  As I stared at her, her tongue darted out and over her lips as her eyes focused on me.

“You don’t want me to stop,” I stated.  “You need it like this.”

She barely had the chance to nod before my hand yanked down sharply and tore her panties off her body.  A moment later, my pants were undone and my cock was out and ready.  I took a moment to lick the palm of my hand and rub it over the head and shaft of my dick.

“Get your legs around me,” I commanded as I lifted her by her ass with one hand and positioned my throbbing cock with the other.  “You still on the pill?”

“Yes,” she breathed as her thighs wrapped around my waist and her heels dug into my backside.

“It’s a good thing.”  I slammed into her and remembered what home was.

It was everything I remembered and more.  The feeling of her body encompassing me was beyond the sensation of the flesh—far beyond.  It was incomprehensible, fantastic, and terrifying.  It was everything I knew I wanted and needed but had refused to pursue because my life was far too fucked up for anything like this.

I didn’t deserve it, and I had convinced myself I didn’t want it or need it.

I did, though.  I knew I did, and now that I had it, I was going to do anything and everything I could to keep it.

She wasn’t completely ready for the intrusion into her body and moaned against my shoulder as I penetrated her, balls-deep, in one swift motion.  As much as I probably should have slowed down and let her get used to me inside of her again, I couldn’t.  My body was on autopilot—searching for the one connection that held meaning for it.

I pulled back and slammed into her again, and again she cried out.

“Lia,” I whispered as I tried to hold myself steady inside of her.  My voice was strangled, pleading, and my dick continued to throb inside of her, demanding more.

“Don’t stop,” she said.  “Harder—please!”

“God, woman…”

Her words heated me up more, and even with the cold wind on my ass, my skin felt like it was boiling.  I shoved into her again, pulled back, and continued to hammer into her as I held her against the wall.  She felt so warm wrapped around me; I almost lost it far too soon.

I took a breath, covered her mouth with mine, and slowed down for a moment.  Sliding in and out of her, my hands wrapped around the globes of her ass and pulled her down over me.  I felt sweat trickle between my shoulder blades as I familiarized myself with the taste of her tongue once more.

“You feel fucking perfect,” I growled against her mouth.  I pulled back, almost all the way out, and then pushed forward sharply with my hips as I brought her down on me.  She cried out again, and I placed one hand against the wall behind her for more leverage as I increased the pace again.

It wasn’t enough.  It felt like it would never, never be enough.

Lia’s breaths came in pants as she tried to keep up with my pace. At that point, I couldn’t have slowed down if I tried, and I wasn’t about to try.  I needed to feel her like this—against the wall, fast, hot, furious.  Her fingers gripped my shoulders, and her voice rose in pitch as she gasped and cried out my name.

Her body gripped my cock, squeezing it and pulling it deeper inside of her.  It was more than I could take, and I felt the pressure from my balls spread out through my legs and down my cock in an explosion of sensation.

“Uhhhgh!” I cried out, the sound only partially muffled by Lia’s shoulder, as I filled her.  I felt myself shudder from my shoulders down to my thighs.  I tightened my grip on her luscious ass and slid in and out a few more times as my breath steadied and my heart rate decreased.  As I came down from the orgasmic high, I found her eyes with mine.  She seemed to be a bit in shock, and I wondered if I had taken it too far.

“Sorry,” I muttered.  “Couldn’t wait.”

“Don’t apologize,” Lia responded.  Her hand moved from my shoulder to the side of my face, and I leaned against the touch.  “It’s probably a good idea to get out of here before someone finds us, though.”

I couldn’t argue, so I pulled back, lowered her carefully to the ground, and fastened my fatigues.  Lia straightened out her skirt, shirt, and hair before she took a deep breath and looked to her torn panties on the ground.

“I guess I’m going to have to keep an extra supply of underwear when I’m around you, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”  I wasn’t, but I figured it was polite to say.  As far as I was concerned, she could just go without panties for the rest of eternity.  I smiled a little at the thought.

“You’re really quite proud of that, aren’t you?” she said.

I smirked back at her, raised an eyebrow, and shrugged.  Lia shook her head slightly as her hand reached up to fiddle with the quarter around her neck.

“Let’s get back to my place,” Lia said.  “I have the feeling we should probably have an actual conversation here at some point.”

Lia reached out to take my hand, and we made our way down the street and back to the train stop.  I wasn’t sure if I was looking forward to what kind of talk she had in mind, but I knew I wasn’t going to be leaving her side until she was far from harm’s way.  I’d put up with whatever she wanted as long as I could keep her safe.

Nothing was going to keep her from my side.

Chapter 7—Desired Refuge

The apartment Lia had been living in was little efficiency in a crappy area.  I might not have had cash on me for a CTA ticket, but there was no way I was going to let her stay here another night.  There wasn’t even any fucking security on the building door.  The inside was okay, just small and cramped.  I had no idea what her financial situation was, but it was obvious from her accommodations that she wasn’t well-off.

I was going to have to change that—sooner rather than later.

Odin peeked around the corner of the bed, saw me, and jogged over with his tail wagging.  I was beyond happy to see the big guy, especially considering I had a brief moment during my arrest when I thought they might have taken him out.  I dropped down to one knee and took his shaggy head in my hands.  I scratched at his neck and back and tried to keep my balance as he nearly tackled me and started to lick my face.

“Disgusting,” I told him with a grin.  He sat back on his haunches and appeared to be smiling back at me with his tongue lolling around his face.  Then he jumped up and ran back to the side of the bed to retrieve his rubber bone.  There wasn’t really any room in the tiny place to throw it, but we made do anyway.

“I need to go to my apartment,” I said after a few minutes of fetch.

“It still has crime scene tape all over the door,” Lia said softly.  “At least it did when I was last there.”

“Fuck that,” I growled.  “If there’s anyone there trying to keep me from my shit, I’ll fucking kill them.”

The words were honest and genuine—far too much so.  When I glanced up at Lia, she was biting her lip and had her brow all screwed up.  I inhaled deeply and then let the air out slowly through my nose.  I was going to have to start watching my words.

“Figuratively,” I said unconvincingly.

Lia continued to look at me with a lot of doubt on her face.  Her legs were tensed like she was thinking of running out.  When I stood and gave Odin’s bone one last toss, she took a step back.

“You afraid of me?” I asked.

“Not of you,” Lia replied.  “For you, yes, but not really of you.”

“Not really,” I repeated.  It wasn’t a slip of the tongue—she was starting to see who I was now that we were in my city, my element.  “You don’t know me very well.”

“I know a lot.  I’m still waiting for you to tell me the rest.”

I laughed.  She had no fucking idea what she knew and what she didn’t know.

“So tell me,” she requested.

“No,” I replied quietly.  I reached out and placed my finger under her chin, tilting her head up a little before kissing her lightly.  “You don’t want to know all the shit in my head.”

“I do,” she insisted, “but I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

“Not gonna happen.”  I moved my lips across her jaw and down the side of her neck, hoping to distract her completely from the line of thinking she seemed so hell-bent on.  Her hands ran up my sides and gripped my back as I moved up her ear.

“I need to know,” she said quietly.

“Bullshit.”

“Evan,” she sighed and pulled back a bit.  It wasn’t enough to let go but enough that I couldn’t keep distracting her with my lips.  “Don’t you think I deserve a little information at least?”

“For what?”  It was a stupid fucking thing to say, but I’m a guy and we say stupid shit like that.

“For what?” she snapped back.  “Seriously?  Let’s start with searching for you for months, finding out you’ve been through a ridiculously difficult time, and then when I finally find you, you’re in the process of trying to blow up an entire park!  How about seeing you dragged off in cuffs, and the only thing you manage to do is apologize again, and then ask me to take care of your dog?”

Well, all right—she had me there.

I huffed out a breath, looked over her shoulder for a minute, and then looked back.

“You’re right.  You want me to just take him and go now?”

“No, for goodness’ sake, Evan!” Lia pulled one of her hands back and slapped me slightly on the shoulder.  “Do you think I’d come all the way here, do all of this, and then just leave?”

“You should.”  Part of me hoped she would, but it wasn’t a part I wanted to acknowledge.  Even as I suggested it, it felt like a hole was burning through my chest.

“Well, I’m not.”

“Maybe you need to think about it.”  More words I didn’t mean, but there they were anyway.

“Is that what you want me to do?” she asked.

I hesitated but ultimately shook my head.

“I only want time to think about…about all of this,” she responded as she took my face in her hands and placed her lips to mine.  My body was immediately lost in the feeling, but my mind continued to struggle.

“You need to just get out of Chicago…get away from me,” I said.  Though my voice was sure and strong, my arms tightened around her as the words left my lips.

“I’m not leaving you alone,” Lia replied.

“You should.”  Again, my grip on her tightened, and the feeling of her body pressed tightly against my chest was divine.  “I’ll end up hurting you or…or worse.”

“You won’t hurt me.”

“You don’t know that.”

She pulled back again and glared at me.

“Did you really think I had no idea that there was something...not quite right?  When I first saw you, you were in the middle of the desert, rocking on a front porch, holding the scariest gun I've ever seen.  The hottest guy I've ever met in my life, sitting alone in a cabin, apparently for months, with his dog and enough paranoia to spare.  I may not have your powers of observation, Evan, but I'm not blind!”

I had to admit, I hadn’t considered how all of that had looked.  At the time, I had been more concerned about whether or not she had been sent from Chicago, and then later my concern was more about getting into her pants.

“I may not know what’s going on,” Lia continued, “but I know there’s a lot more here than it seems.  At some point, you’re going to have to tell me.”

“Have to, huh?”  I was trying hard not to be shitty, but she was hitting far too close to the truth for her own good.  I was also fighting hard against the desire to tell her everything there was to know, even when the information would likely end up with her telling me to get the fuck out—not to mention some of the information could get her killed.  It was too much for most people to handle, and I didn’t want to put her in that position.

Was it even avoidable at this point?

“Whatever happened, I can handle it.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head.  She didn’t know what she was asking, and I wasn’t even sure that I could handle it.  Figuring she was as likely as any chick to respond to a little emotion, I went with delay tactics.

“I…I can’t, Lia,” I pleaded to her eyes for understanding. “I…I want to, but not yet.  I can’t do it yet.”

Her fingers brushed over my jaw.

“All right,” she said quietly.  “I can wait, but not forever.”

Mission accomplished though there was no telling how long I could hold her off.  For now, I just needed to keep her occupied with other things.

“Thank you,” I whispered against her ear, then moved down her throat.  I slid my fingers up her sides, wrapped them in the hem of her shirt, and pulled it up and over her head.  My mouth moved down to kiss the tops of her breasts as I reached around and unhooked her bra.

Her fingers grabbed at my belt and the buttons of my fatigues, then pushed them off my hips as I discarded my shirt and then her skirt.  I picked her up, took three steps toward the bed, and tossed her in the middle of it.

I was on her a second later, pushing her legs apart to give me access to the Mecca of all pussies.  I found her first with my fingers—I still felt a little bad about how quickly I’d taken her the last time—and explored between her outer lips.  I slowly inserted my middle finger inside of her, curling it slightly as she arched her back to me. With my thumb rubbing circles around her clit, I felt her body slicken and ready for me.

With my free hand, I pushed her leg out and up, spreading her a little more and giving me both optimum position and optimum view.  I slid another finger inside of her, moved them both back and forth for a moment, and then pulled them out and ran them up over her clit.

Lia’s hands reached down, and her fingers locked around my forearms with some kind of death grip.  I took it as an invitation, and with my cock in my hand, I closed in on my target and thrust forward.  Lia gasped, and her legs jumped as I bottomed out, balls-deep inside of her.

Her arms dropped to her sides, and she pushed her palms against the bed as she arched her hips with a moan.  I wrapped my arms around her legs for a better grip and began thrusting quickly into her as my eyes locked with hers.

So beautiful.  So perfect.

I leaned forward and took one of her nipples in my mouth, biting down gently on it until her hands wrapped around my head.  I sucked it farther into my mouth, and my tongue ran over the edge in a circle.  I switched to the other one, nuzzling it lightly with my nose before I took it between my lips.

Lia moved her hands to the sides of my face and pulled me up for a kiss.  Our tongues met, caressed, tasted, and felt as I thrust into her with my cock.  I felt her hips press up against me with every downward movement, and it was like Christmas morning.

I wanted more.

“I want to watch that backside while I’m fucking you,” I told her as I pulled back, grabbed her by the waist, and flipped her over on her stomach.  “Get that ass up and spread those legs.”

“Jesus, Evan.”  Lia breathed heavily as her forehead pressed into the mattress.   She complied, pulled her knees up close to her body, and moved them apart.

“That’s it,” I murmured.  My hands ran up the backs of her toned thighs and up over her rounded ass.  I didn’t think I’d ever seen an ass as perfect as hers, and as much as I wanted to spread her cheeks and find out just how it felt, my cock played divining rod and moved straight to her pussy.

I wrapped my hand around my shaft and rubbed the head up and down a few times before pushing back into her with a grunt.  Lia turned her head to the side and reached up with her hands to grip the sheets.

“Better hold on tight,” I advised.  I leaned forward over her back, kissed her spine, then pulled back and slammed into her again.

She gasped, and her fingers tightened around the sheet as I started a hard, fast pace.  I nearly pulled out with every stroke and rammed into her so hard she had to tense her thighs and ass to stay up on her knees.

Just what I wanted—to watch her ass squeeze and tighten as I fucked her.  I swallowed and gripped her hips as I kept up my furious movements, and Lia began to cry out with each thrust.

“You love that, don’t you?” I growled.  “Being hammered by my cock…you must think you’re in…fucking…heaven.”

Punctuation by cock thrust—the very best kind.

Her moans were the only response I heard and the only encouragement I needed.  Tightening my own ass muscles, I rocked my hips against her over and over again.  My legs were threatening to give out on me, but I wasn’t about to let them.  With closed eyes, I leaned over her again, and sweat dripped from my brow to her back.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whispered against her neck as I slowed down to keep myself from coming too quickly.  “I can’t get enough of you…will never have enough of you.”

“Evan!” Lia cried, and I felt her ass shake and her body clench around me as I shoved into her and held myself there, rotating my hips a little as she cried out again.  Her moans quieted as her legs gave out and dropped her to the mattress, making my cock pop right out of her in the process.

“No way,” I told her.  “I’m not done with you yet.”

I pushed her legs farther apart with my knees as my hand reached between her thighs.  I fucked her slowly with two fingers until she was writhing under me, then positioned my cock back at her entrance and thrust forward.

It wasn’t an easy position for deep penetration, but her body was wrapped around my cock, and I still had a fabulous view of her luscious ass, so I didn’t care.  I fucked her with short, quick strokes as my balls began to tighten and throb.  The buildup was as intense as it had been against the brick wall between the office buildings.

“Oh, shit…yeah…” I poured into her as I accented my own grunts with powerful, fast thrusts until my cock ran dry.  Unable to move any more, I collapsed on top of her and panted hot breath on her shoulder.

Several minutes later, I regained enough composure to kiss her neck and then get my weight off of her.  She shuddered as our bodies parted, then rolled to face me and wrapped her arms around my neck.

“You’re going to kill me,” she whispered.

I tensed.

Her tone was benign and joking, but her words still sent a ripple of terror through me.

“Did I hurt you?” I asked.

“Fuck, no!” she replied with a laugh.  “You’re…you’re fantastic.”

I let a breath out through my nose and tightened my hold on her.  Closing my eyes for a minute, I tried to shake away images of blood and splattered brains and concentrate instead on the woman in my arms.  Her fingers crawled up my neck and cupped my face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I said automatically.  “I’m just…still a little tired.  I think I could really use a shower.”

“I have one of those.”  Lia smiled.

The shower felt wonderful, even if it was one of those tiny little stalls with barely enough room to turn around.  It was still better than a group shower in prison.  Before I had managed to wash the soap off, Lia joined me.  I wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass, so I grabbed her by the thighs, held her against the cheap shower wall, and fucked her again.

Much better than prison.

We had to take another shower to clean off.

Lia had the makings for sandwiches in her mini-fridge, and I devoured two of them quickly.

“Hungry?” she asked, amused.

“Do you have any idea how much prison food sucks?” I asked with a grin.  “These are fucking awesome.”

She giggled, and my cock responded.  I polished off the last couple of bites and then crawled over to where she sat and thanked her with my mouth.  I took her again on the floor and then let her change into pajamas, which she wore just long enough to get into the bed before I tore them off and tossed them across the room.

I couldn’t get enough of her.

Sometime around midnight, I started to feel tired.  It didn’t make any difference though.  My body continued to demand more of hers.

My mouth pressed against her stomach as my hand moved up her side.  With a light touch, I brushed over the tops of both her breasts as I kissed up the center of her body.

“Again?” Lia giggled.  “Do you ever run out of energy?”

“Eventually,” I admitted. “Fucking you just makes me want more though.  I'm trying to see if I can make it to round six before I pass out.”

“I'm going to be sore,” she said.

I maneuvered over the top of her, nudged her legs apart with my knee, and looked down into her eyes.

“Does that mean you'll feel it all day tomorrow—feel it constantly, no matter what you’re doing, and think about my cock inside you every minute you’re awake?”

Lia's breath quickened, and she stared up at me for a moment before she swallowed hard and nodded her head.

“Probably.”

“Good.”  I wrapped my hand around my shaft and drilled into her.

I felt whole again.

It felt too good to last.

* * *

I woke up in ecstasy.

At first I thought I had to be dreaming, but I quickly remembered that my dreams were never so pleasant.  The feeling through my skin, my muscles—my entire body—was like lying in a cool meadow with the springtime sun blanketing me.  My mind was relaxed and calm in a way it hadn’t been in years.  There was only one word to describe it.

Peace.

It was nearly enough to bring tears to my eyes.

My cheek rested on Lia’s abdomen, and I felt her hand against the back of my head, cradling me to her body.  I had my arms wrapped around her center, and I held her close against my chest as I lay beside her on the small bed that reminded me too much of the one in the cabin.

I didn’t move.  I only inhaled deeply to embrace the scent of her.  It was her own, sweet fragrance combined with the smell of our activity from the night before.  I curled my fingers around her hip, touched my nose to the skin against her belly, and I inhaled again.  My fingers reached up to briefly touch the quarter on its chain around her neck.  I had to pee pretty badly, but it wasn’t worth disconnecting myself from her flesh, so I didn’t.

I don’t know how long I stayed that way, eyes closed and just reveling in the sensations around me.  At some point, Lia’s fingers twitched, then slowly started massaging my head, which caused me to moan out load.

Lia’s soft laugh filled my ears.

“You like that?”

“Mmmhmm,” I replied as I snuggled against her stomach and tightened my grip on her.  “Feels good.”

She kept it up, slowly dragging her fingertips from the top of my head, through my hair, and down to the back of my neck before she started all over again.  I lifted my head and shifted up until I was face to face with her and wrapped both arms around her shoulders to hold her against me.  Lia’s hand stroked my cheek, and I watched her eyes as she gently traced the veins in my arms.

“I could wake up like this every day,” I said.

“Me, too.  You’re gonna have to let me up, though.”

“Why?” I protested.  “I don’t want to.”

“I have to go to the bathroom!” Lia laughed.

“So do I.”

“Well, this time would be a lot worse of a wet spot than what I put up with last night, so you better move.”

Something about the crudeness of the remark amused me to no end.

“Come right back,” I ordered as I held in a laugh.

“Yes, sir,” she responded with a grin that made my cock twitch.  “Now let go.”

I sighed but rolled away from her so she could get up.  True to her word, she curled right back up with me when she returned and started to run her hands up and down my arms again as I tucked my head against her chest.  I dozed off briefly, and when I woke, she was propped up on an elbow and just looking at her fingers wrapped around my bicep.

“What?” I questioned.

Lia smiled and looked away as her cheeks tinged with flowing blood.

“Nothing,” she said softly.

“Tell me.”

Her eyes met mine again.

“I just…I feel so safe with you, like nothing could ever happen to me as long as I was with you.”

I wanted it to be true so much.  Maybe I went ahead and believed it on some level.  After pondering a moment, I leaned back and repositioned myself so I was lying next to her and looking up at her face.

“What is this?” I asked tentatively.

“What is what?”  Lia stifled a yawn with her hand and then turned her head back toward mine.

“This,” I said as I tightened my grip and held her body more firmly against my own.  “Us.  What are we?”

She eyed me for a moment.

“What do you want this to be?” she asked quietly.

I thought about it for a minute, but I really wasn’t sure how to answer.  Whatever this was, it was foreign to me.  I didn’t know what to call it.

“What are my options?”

Lia raised both eyebrows at me and tilted her head a bit.  I only shrugged in response, so she tapped her finger against her bottom lip as she answered me.

“Well, you could buy me a giant diamond and be my fiancé.”  Lia dropped her finger down and tapped her chin instead.  “Or we could just go to Vegas and have Elvis or maybe Darth Vader marry us.  If commitment isn’t your thing, we could just be fuck-buddies.”

She turned her eyes back to me and smiled softly as I raised my eyebrow at her.

“Then again, maybe we should just try the boyfriend-girlfriend thing for now and see what happens,” she suggested.

“It seems a little more…realistic than the other ones,” I admitted.  I took a deep breath and looked into her eyes.  “I’ve never done this shit before.”

“What?  Dated?”

“Have we been on a date?”

“I guess not.”  She eyed me with a cynical gaze.  “What do you mean, then?”

I didn’t even know what I meant, which was part of the problem.

“I’ve never put a label on a…a relationship,” I said.  “I don’t even know what that means—boyfriend.  Should I go get flowers and chocolates now?”

“That doesn’t seem your style,” Lia snickered.  “Have you ever bought a girl flowers before?”

I licked my lips and considered the daffodils I had yanked out of a window box for Bridgett.  Since they were neither bought nor ever delivered to her, I had an honest answer.

“Never bought a girl flowers.  Bought a few other things, I guess.”

“Such as?”

“Is this normal girlfriend-boyfriend conversation,” I asked, “me telling you what I’ve bought for other chicks?  What did William get you for your last birthday?”

Lia’s throat bobbed up and down as she looked away from me.

“Fine, you made your point.”

The tension in her face and her refusal to look at me told me enough.

“I must be a boyfriend,” I said.  “I’m already pissing you off.”

She looked back at me, and her face relaxed as she cracked a smile.

“That isn’t a requirement,” she said, “just in case you were wondering.”

“Duly noted.  All things considered, though, I’ll likely piss you off again.”

She looked at me for a long moment.

“I just want to know more about you,” she said.  “I still want to know what happened to you.”

I shook my head.

“I need to get to my apartment,” I said.  “You also need to get your shit out of this little hellhole.”

“It’s not that bad,” she said as she looked around.

“Yes, it is.”  I untangled my limbs from her body and stood up to take a piss and pull my clothes on.  I shifted a little bit in the pants—they were starting to get a little rough on my ass from the lack of clean underwear.  I definitely needed to get to my place for supplies.

Odin followed me into the bathroom and sat there as I dressed, wagging his tail with his bone hanging part way out of his mouth.  I grabbed it, ordered him to drop, and then tossed it to the other side of the room.

“I can’t really afford anything else at the moment.”  I glanced in Lia’s direction and watched her pull her shirt on over her head.  “I haven’t even found a job here yet.”

“You don’t need one,” I countered.  I grabbed the bone back from Odin and threw it again.

“Of course I do,” she said.  “I only have enough to cover rent and utilities for another month or so.”

“You don’t need any more.”  I was dismissive in my tone but didn’t want to come right out and tell her just how much money I had stashed away in various places.

“Well, then I guess I’ll be staying in this hellhole.”

I watched her for a moment, trying to judge her mood.  She certainly sounded pissy, but her posture was casual.

“I’ll take care of you,” I finally said.

“Evan, you just got out of jail, and we don’t even know when your hearing will be or anything yet.”

“There won’t be one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I cupped her face in my hands, placed my lips against hers, and kissed her deeply.

“I’m going to take care of it all,” I promised.  “Then we’re going to leave Chicago altogether.”

“And go where?”

“I have a few options.”

“You’re being very vague.”

“Yep.”

“Evan!”  She took a step back from me and placed her hands on her hips.

“Lia,” I mocked back.  I smiled warmly to try to break the building tension.  “I can explain more later.  Right now, I just need to get back to my apartment and assess the damage.”

With minimal additional protest, we collected Odin and his stuff, and I called a taxi from Lia’s phone.

“That’s going to be expensive,” Lia remarked.

“No one’s going to let him on a bus,” I said, nodding toward the dog.  “A big tip goes a long way with a taxi driver.”

“I don’t have that much cash.”

“We’ll take care of it when we get back to my place.”

When we did get there, the apartment was a disaster.

The scene was almost enough to remind me of a warzone, but not quite.  There was still crime tape up on the door, but I tore it away and shoved the door open to reveal most everything I owned spewed out all over the floor.

Papers, boxes, even dishes and shit from the cabinets in the kitchen were lying all over the floor, the counters, and the dining room table.  My desk drawers were all pulled out, and papers were everywhere.  All the cords and shit for my laptop were there in a heap, but the machine itself was gone.

“Wow.” Lia breathed out the word with a huff of air.  “This is a mess.”

“I’m going to guess the housekeeper hasn’t been by recently,” I joked.  Nothing about it was funny to me, but I didn’t want her to see just how irate I was.  I was pretty particular about my place and my things.  Seeing them just…everywhere was increasing my blood pressure by the minute.  I wondered what was missing besides the laptop.

The back of the closet in my bedroom, which should have contained my firearms and a couple duffel bags filled with around eighty grand in cash was empty.

“Fuckers,” I mumbled as I moved over to my dresser.  All the drawers had been pulled out and dumped, but no one noticed the envelope secured to the underside of the dresser’s top.  I pulled a few bills out of it, ran down to pay off the cab driver, and then returned to check out the rest of the mess.

Odin was standing by the sliding glass door to the balcony, staring at his upturned dog bed.  I used my boot to shove the crap on the floor to the side, righted the bed, and put it back in its usual spot.  He sniffed at it, climbed inside, and spun around a few times before curling up and placing his head on his paws to watch us.

I went around to all the places where I had cash and weapons hidden.  Most had been found and presumably taken as evidence, but I did come up with a few thousand in cash—no weapons, though, which pissed me off.  My phone was also missing.

“I need to make a side trip.”

My Mazda was gone from the garage, presumably impounded pending my trial.  With my CTA pass in hand and Lia staying at my apartment to start cleaning up, I headed over to Moretti’s office.  I watched all around me as I approached, but I didn’t see any familiar cars in the parking lot and no one visible walking around.  I made my way to my Audi—still hidden behind the dumpster from the night I’d killed Terry and Bridgett.  Under the driver’s seat was a Beretta PX4 Storm .40—my backup handgun.  In the trunk, hidden under the spare tire, there was another, larger envelope of cash.

I shoved the piece down my pants and felt myself relax at the familiar feeling of the barrel against my back.  There was also a shoulder holster for it, but I didn’t want to take the time to put it on in the parking lot.  I looked around quickly, then got in the car and headed to the nearest place where I could get a phone set up without a contract or anything like that.  I kept looking over my shoulder, but no one appeared to have noticed me, and no one seemed to be following me.  Still, I took a random route back to my apartment building.

All was quiet in the parking garage, so I made my way upstairs and back to my unit.

Lia was inside, folding clothing that had been dumped all over the place and neatly stacking it in piles on the bed.

“I wasn’t sure which drawers you used for what.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said.  I wasn’t sure why, but I felt a little weird and maybe embarrassed to have her doing something like that for me.  It seemed very…intimate.  I didn’t think anyone other than I had handled my laundry since I was a kid.

I grabbed the dresser drawers off the floor and inserted them into their slots, then picked up a couple stacks of shirts and laid them down in their rightful drawer.  It didn’t take too long before we had at least managed to straighten out the bedroom to where it didn’t look like a recent tornado had been hanging out there.

The rest of the apartment was a much bigger disaster, and it took us most of the day to get it cleaned up.  About the time we were done, when Lia had gone to take some spoiled food to the dumpsters outside, Odin started to growl.

I looked up at the door.

“Having fun?” Trent asked as he leaned against the wall.

Nothing could have pissed me off more than seeing him at my door.

Chapter 8—Unveiled Threats

I resisted the urge to pull out the Beretta and shove it in his face.

“I assume I have you to thank for all of this,” I muttered back.  “What the fuck do you want?”

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t packing up to leave town or anything stupid like that,” Trent replied.  “I also wanted to make sure you realize I know exactly where you are and what you’re doing—at all times.”

I watched him closely.  He crossed his arms as he leaned casually against the door—too casually.  He was making a point of looking nonchalant, which meant he didn’t completely feel that way.  My eyes searched for other clues about him, but he was practiced in the art of being a complete and total asshole, which was throwing me off my game.

In an attempt to gain some ground, I snapped my fingers and pointed to Odin’s bed.  He quickly moved from my side and went to his place but continued to growl low at the federal agent.

“I told you I would take care of it all,” I reminded him.  “Fuck off and let me do it.”

“You’re quite the conversationalist,” he said with a snide laugh.

“I don’t converse with feds,” I snapped back.  I was immediately pissed off at myself for letting him get to me.

“Just don’t forget to take your dick out of your slut long enough to get your job done.”

I clenched my teeth and glared, trying to keep myself from just walking over and beating the living shit out of him.  I had no doubt that Johnson was nearby, and assaulting a fed in my apartment while I was out on bail wasn’t the very best idea.

“Are you going to spend a lot of time keeping me from getting shit done?” I asked through my teeth.

“I’m going to spend a lot of time making sure you are getting shit done,” Trent retorted.  “If I feel like you’re stalling, I’m going to take it out on her.  What do you think of that?”

“I think that’s an invitation to an underground party.”

We locked stares for a long moment.  Trent eventually cracked half of an insincere smile and then nodded.

“I’ll be seeing you around.”  He turned and walked out the door.

I dropped my ass on the couch and rubbed my temples.  Odin assumed he was free to leave his bed because he came up and leaned his fuzzy mug on my knee.  I rubbed at his head and tried to calm myself down a bit.

None of this was going to work.

Despite promises to Trent, I had no idea how I was going to get into Greco’s confidence—none whatsoever.  Even if I did have a plan, it certainly wasn’t going to be easy, and part of my strategy was going to have to include figuring out a way for Moretti to believe I was still working for him.

I was, really.

He just wasn’t going to know it.

But I had to make him think he knew it.

Fuck, none of the shit even made sense to me, so how was I going to pull it all off?

Lia came back just a few minutes later.

“That was odd,” she said as she walked in.

“What was?”

“There was a guy downstairs near the dumpsters,” she told me.  “He started asking me a lot of weird questions.  I guess maybe he was the building super or something.”

My stomach churned.

“What did he look like?”

“A little older,” she said.  “Maybe as old as fifty.  He was wearing a suit and tie.  His hair was getting pretty gray, and he had a beard.”

Agent Johnson.

“What did he want to know?”

“He asked if I lived here,” she told me.  “I guess he wanted to make sure I wasn’t just dumping my trash in his dumpsters.”

Fucking bastards, tag-teaming me like that, one of them delaying Lia so the other could harass me.  My skin felt hot at the thought.  I took a couple of steps toward her and grabbed her arms.

“What did you tell him?” I demanded.

“Evan!” Lia yelled as she pulled from me.  “What the hell?”

Her eyes blazed, and I realized how it must have seemed.

“Sorry,” I muttered.  “I’m a bit on edge.  I don’t want people bothering you.”

“He didn’t bother me; he was just asking weird questions.”

“Like what?”  I tried to calm myself and released her arms.  The whole “hiding my identity” bullshit was seriously frustrating.

Maybe it would be easier to just come clean.

Nah.

“He asked what apartment I lived in, and he asked if I had a dog.  Isn’t that weird?”

“What did you tell him?”

“I said I was just visiting a friend.  He wanted to know who, and I said I had to go and came back inside.”

I reached behind my back to make sure my Beretta was still in place before I stood up from the couch and went over to her.

“If you see him again, come right back up here,” I told her.  “Don’t talk to him.  Don’t even make eye contact with him.  I don’t care what he says.”

“Who is he?” she asked.

“No one.”

“Could you provide slightly less useful information?” she quipped.  “I mean, there could be a Guinness record for it.”

“Nice,” I replied.  Normally I would have been pissed off by the sarcasm, but for some reason, hearing it from Lia just made my cock jump.  I took a deep breath and let it out.  “I know who he is, and he really just wants to harass me.  I don’t want him annoying you as well.”

“Who is he?” she asked again.

“Never mind.  Just tell me if you see him again.”

“Jesus, you are frustrating!”

I shrugged.  I couldn’t argue with the sentiment, and it didn’t matter if I was frustrating her or not.  It wasn’t going to change the answer at this point.  It wasn’t that I wanted to piss her off, it was just the way it was.  I couldn’t exactly come out and tell her the dude was a federal agent, monitoring me because I was supposed to infiltrate and bring down a rival mob organization.

Yeah, that would go over well.

So I was stuck with her being upset because I wouldn’t answer her.  I wondered how many times we were going to end up playing the same game and wondered how others dealt with this kind of shit.  Rinaldo was married, but his wife worked at one of his clubs, so she knew what the deal was before they were involved.  Mario was also married, but I didn’t have any idea where his wife came from.  She only spoke Italian, and I only understood her about a third of the time because she talked so damn fast.

How many times would Lia put up with my evasiveness?

I ran my hand over my face and growled under my breath.  It wasn’t that I was angry—not with her, anyway—but the whole situation had me as tense as I could be.  Johnson talking to her was crossing a line as far as I was concerned, and it reminded me that I should really just get her the fuck out of town.

“I also wanted to make sure you realize I know exactly where you are and what you’re doing—at all times.”

If Trent wasn’t full of shit, and I doubted he was, he would know if I were to take her out of the danger zone.  If that were the case, and he decided to go after her once I’d returned, I would have no way of keeping her safe.  I had to make sure she was safe.

Where was the safest place for her?

With me.

It was also probably the most dangerous, but a lot of that was because she had no idea what she was dealing with, and I wasn’t going to tell her.  Telling her could result in anything, up to and including her taking off.  If she took off, he might decide to follow her.  If she was on her own, I still wouldn’t be able to protect her.

Another option was to forget about the whole deal with the feds, take Lia, and leave town.  I would probably be able to manage getting us both away without being followed, though it would take some effort.  At least then I wasn’t going to have to balance keeping Rinaldo off my trail and Greco convinced I was on his side.

It was the best option.

“We’re going to leave,” I said definitively.

* * *

Lia was pissed.

I couldn’t really blame her.  I’d told her basically nothing but demanded she put a few days’ worth of clothes in a bag and just follow me.  I didn’t want Odin left on his own—the woman who usually took care of him when I was out of town worked for Moretti, and I didn’t want to risk anything coming out while we were gone, so I tossed him on top of a towel in the back of the car and took him to a dog-boarding kennel.  I’d come back for him later.

I drove my Audi up to the north side of the city and parked it outside a nightclub.  Grabbing our bags out of the back of the car, I led a protesting Lia through the front entrance of the club, through the throbbing techno music, and then out the back door.  Once out back, we made our way down a graffiti-covered alley between the buildings, across the street, and over to a small conference center where I called a cab to take us back south.

I gave the driver an address, and he turned around to look at me.

“That ain’t no place to be,” he said.

“Look,” I replied, “I don’t have a shitload of patience right now, so here’s how this shit works.  You drive me where I say, and I give you cash.  Capisce?”

He narrowed his eyes, said he was charging me double, and then made me pay up front before he’d drive us there.  Under other circumstances, I would have put a gun to his head and told him to be happy if he got paid at all, but I had Lia with me, and I was doing my best not to scare her.

A pissed-off Lia was definitely preferable to a scared one.  As it was, she had completely stopped speaking to me about halfway to where I ditched the car, and she continued to sit next to me, looking out the window with her arms crossed over her chest and her lips smashed tightly together.

I took a long breath and leaned back in the seat to relax a few minutes.  I was rushing all of this, and I knew I hadn’t thought through everything.  Not telling Lia why we were leaving was part of the problem as she was fighting me the whole way, but there was a lot more to it.

I knew deep down that Trent wasn’t going to just let this shit go.  He wouldn’t just come after me; it would end up being a countrywide manhunt.  Any chance of having the charges against me dropped would disappear completely, and he’d probably come up with a few others to tack on.  At best, we would have to live on the run, leave the country, and change our names.

No doubt about it—I wasn’t thinking straight.

Why?

Because Lia was with me, and I didn’t want her scared or hurt.

Rinaldo had been right—having a chick in your life complicated everything.  It wasn’t worth it—not for me or for her.  What I really needed to do was just take her to the airport so I could buy her a plane ticket back to her mom’s.

The very thought brought the taste of bile to the back of my throat.  If I wasn’t doing my very best thinking now, how much more rattled would I be if I hadn’t slept last night?

Fuck the sleep.

Waking up with her—that had been worth the world to me.

My eyes squeezed shut, and I shook my head sharply.  I couldn’t cope with all this shit.  I couldn’t even have named all the conflicting thoughts and emotions going on inside my head, let alone make sense of them.  It was too complicated.  It was too dangerous for both of us.  I should definitely tell the cab driver to head west and buy her a plane ticket.

I didn’t say a word but stared out the opposite window and hoped I’d be able to come up with some way of explaining all of this that didn’t end up with her leaving me.

Chicago has some really beautiful areas to live in.  Auburn Gresham isn’t one of them.  Though it was one of the roughest places in a city littered with crime, it was exactly what I needed for the moment. Not only would it be difficult for the Feds to follow me around the area, but they'd also have to watch their own backs at the same time.

The cab driver took his own sweet time getting there, and by the time we’d arrived near the address I’d given him, the sky was darkening.  He dumped us on the corner, refusing to actually go up the block at night.  I was tired of listening to the guy bitch, so I just got out where we were, Lia still in tow.

“Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on?” Lia asked as the cab sped away.

“Not out here on the street,” I replied.

We only had about two blocks to walk, but that’s all it took.

Two dudes with hooded sweatshirts pulled down their foreheads and pants shagged down to show their striped boxers came at us from across the street.  I felt Lia tense beside me, but I was nothing but annoyed.

“I got me a damn fine idea,” the guy on the left said as he walked up and blocked our path.  I reached out and pushed Lia slightly behind my back.  “You give me all yo shit, and maybe my frien’ don’t cut yo bitch.”

He reached down to yank up his pants and glanced over at his younger buddy.  The other guy brandished a switchblade, which might have been scary to someone who hadn’t been around much larger knives. The knife-wielder moved his head back and forth like he was listening to some kind of phantom dance music.  Other days I might have laughed, but I wasn’t in the mood for stupid gang shit.  Moretti and Greco’s outfits had put them in their place plenty of times, and I was happy to do it again.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and centered myself before speaking.

“I’ve got a better idea,” I told him.  “You turn around and go back to the slimy cunt you crawled out of, and I won’t blow your dick off and shove it into the sewer.  I’m pretty sure this particular sewer flows right up to the river.   You know the river, right?  It’s where all of us who own your sorry asses work.”

The older guy’s eyes opened wide, but the younger one just looked pissed.

“I think fuckin’ you up would be a lesson you don’t soon forgit!” he sneered.

“Evan,” Lia whispered as her hand gripped my bicep, “just give them what they want.  It’s okay.”

“Fuck that,” I spat.  “I’ll give them what they fucking deserve.”

“You need to listen to yo bitch,” the kid with the knife started to say as the other one tried to stop him.

It was too late, though.  I’d already had enough.

I pulled my Beretta out, pointed it between the younger kid’s eyes, and flicked the safety off.  I could hear Lia’s quiet gasp and watched the younger guy as he started to take a step back.  He seemed confused for a moment, and I thought he might actually be stupid enough to take a stab at me.

“Go ahead, you piece of shit,” I said calmly.  My eyes stayed locked with his.  “Take a swing.  I’ll make sure my bullet doesn’t hit you fatally so you can watch me castrate you with that piece of shit blade.  Dick to throat, I’ll show you what a cut really looks like, and then I’ll slam my fist through your ribcage and fuck the hole I made.  What do you think of that?”

There was a long moment of silence as the kid’s eyes got bigger and bigger.  He didn’t seem able to move or speak.

“We cool,” the older one finally said as he cleared his throat and took a step back.  He smacked his friend on the arm with the back of his hand.  “Come on and let these nice folks git on wid der business.”

They backed up slowly until they were a good twenty feet away, then turned around and quickly made their way back across the street toward some nasty-looking liquor store.  I took a calming breath and turned to face an ashen Lia.

“Come on,” I said quietly.  “Let’s get inside before any other trash wanders up, okay?”

She could only nod dumbly.

“You fuckin’ mo-ron,” the older guy was saying as the pair reached the other side of the street, “don’t you know who dat is?”

I grabbed Lia by the arm and headed for the motel entrance before the gang-bangers started yelling out parts of my resume for everyone to hear.  She’d already seen and heard enough from my own mouth.  It wasn’t something I wanted her to see, but I wasn’t about to risk her getting hurt.  Demonstrating exactly who I was ensured her safety.

They knew better than to mess with the mafia.  We’d put them in their place before, and we’d do it again.  Even though I was in their territory, they still knew power when they saw it.

Lia didn’t say a word until after we’d checked into the motel, found the right door, and hauled our bags inside.

“Are you going to explain that to me?” Lia asked quietly as she sat down on the end of the bed.

“Explain what?”

“For fuck’s sake!”  Lia stood up and put her hands on her hips as she glared at me.  “Explain all of this shit!  What are we doing here, and where are we going?  What the hell was that testosterone display outside?  Where the fuck did that gun come from?”

“I wasn’t going to let them mug us,” I said with a shrug.  “This isn’t a great neighborhood, so I was prepared to deal with it.  I was in the Marines, so yeah—I have a gun.”

“Don’t you bullshit me,” she snapped.  “That was hardly a little display of self-defense.  I am not stupid, and I’m not blind!”

I sighed and dropped my ass to the edge of the little desk and looked her in the eyes.  I knew immediately that she wasn’t buying any of this shit and that holding off on answering her questions wasn’t going to work much longer.

“That guy out there—he knew who you were.”

I rolled my eyes.

“How did he know you, Evan?”

I didn’t respond.  I didn’t even look at her.

I really didn’t know what to say.

“Fuck this,” she snapped.  She stood up, grabbed her bag, and headed to the door.

Moving quickly, I stood between her and the door and placed my hands on her shoulders.

“You can’t leave,” I said.

“Like hell I can’t!” she retorted.  “Am I a prisoner or something?  Is that what you’re saying?”

“No, but it’s not safe for you in this area by yourself.  You might have noticed that already.”

Her eyes tried to burn little holes in my forehead.

“I think I’ll be fine,” she said.  “I think all I have to do is tell anyone who tries to fuck with me that I’m Evan Arden’s girlfriend, and they’d just leave me alone, wouldn’t they?  Or do you have some code name I should use instead?”

Fuck.

She kept telling me she wasn’t stupid, and she was right.  I still hadn’t given her enough credit though.  She kept catching me off guard with her ability to infer the relationship between my words and the actions of others.  Maybe I was just used to chicks who knew enough about what was going on to turn a blind eye to their surroundings, and Lia didn’t fit into that category.  She was trying to figure this shit out, and she knew how to put the pieces together.

It wasn’t helping.

Lia must have tired of me staring at her and tried to push past me again.  I wouldn’t let her, and she glared nuclear bombs at me from her irises.

“Get out of my way,” she growled.

“I can’t,” I replied with a shake of my head.

“You won’t,” she snapped back.  “That isn’t the same.  I’ve already gotten rid of one dickhead who spent a lot of time controlling me, Evan.  I didn’t do that just to pick up another one.”

“Lia, I can’t let you go out there.  It’s dark and it’s the fucking murder capital of the world out that door.  You are not going out there!”

“Bullshit.”

“You want me to bring it up on the fucking internet?  You go look up this neighborhood!”

She paused for a moment and glanced from me to the door and back again.  She took a breath and clenched her teeth together.  The tension in her arms and legs told me exactly what she was thinking: one, she didn’t believe me, and two, she was considering punching me right in the face to get by.

There was an asshole inside of me who wanted to tell her to just fucking go and leave her on her own.  She was making all of this too difficult, and I didn’t have the time to fuck around with it.  It was the same part of me that took over when I fixed my scope between someone’s eyes and pulled back on the trigger.  That part of me, however, apparently wasn’t in control.

“I need you,” I said quietly.

“What?  So you can sleep?”

It was snarky and sarcastic, and I deserved it.

“Yes, but not just that.”

Her look softened, and she dropped her hands from her hips.

“I mean it,” I said with a softer tone.  “I can’t let you go out there by yourself.  Fuck, I shouldn’t be out there, but it was the best option for now.  In the morning…”

I paused, felt my heart start beating faster in protest but continued anyway.

“In the morning, if you still want to, I’ll take you to the airport and buy you a plane ticket to wherever you want to go.  You don’t ever have to see me again, but I can’t let you wander around this area of town at night.  You wouldn’t last an hour.”

Her eyes locked with mine again.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” she finally said.

I nodded, and she dropped her head and shook it slowly as she turned around and walked back toward the bed.  She turned abruptly and yelled at me.

"I don't know what's going on here, but you're scaring me!"

Stepping forward and reaching out with my hand, I cupped the side of her face and moved in to kiss her. She wasn't going to have any of that, though, and turned her head away as I leaned in.  I pulled back and ran my tongue across my lips.

"I'm not trying to scare you."

“Well, you are!”

My stomach tightened up on itself.  I couldn’t figure out any way to resolve this with her and didn’t have the slightest idea what to do or say.  My normal reaction to anyone else would have been to sit down, shut up, and I would do what I needed to do.  With her, everything was ridiculously complex.  None of my usual responses worked.

“You need to stop with all the cryptic shit,” she informed me.  Her hands moved up to pull out the scrunchie holding up her ponytail.  I tried not to get too distracted by the way her hair fell around her shoulders, but all I could think of was running my fingers through it.

“I told you; I’ve never done the boyfriend thing before.  I have no idea what to do here.”

“Start by telling me what the hell is going on,” Lia said.

I sighed and rubbed my fingers into my eyes.

“I don’t know if that’s really the best way.”

“It’s a start.”

It was more likely to be an end, which was what had me on edge.  The thing was, I was afraid she was going to walk out.  I even recognized it as fear though I might not have admitted it to anyone else.  If she left and I never saw her again, I wasn’t so sure I’d survive.  I had to do something to keep her with me a little longer.

“Tell me about you,” I said.  It was my last ditch effort to try to delay what was coming.  “I hardly know anything about you, either.  You tell me about you, and then in the morning, I’ll tell you about me.”

It gave me one last night with her and one last morning of waking up with her.

Lia looked skeptical, but I also saw a hint of resignation in her eyes, which allowed me to breathe without my lungs feeling like they were being compressed.

“I don’t think what I have to say is all that interesting,” Lia sighed as she sat down on the edge of the bed again.

I sat down next to her and reached for her hand.

“I still want to know,” I told her.  “I’ll get something for us to eat, and then you can tell me, okay?”

Lia took a long breath and nodded her acquiescence.

Auburn Gresham wasn’t an area I’d spent much time exploring in the past, but when gang activity in the area began to push up into Rinaldo’s heroin trade, I’d been part of a group that came down and let them know exactly who was in control in the city.  The message had been clear—go ahead and do what you want in the south, but don’t fuck with businesses in the north.  We even picked a line—the 47th Parallel.  It didn’t quite match Korea, but it still served as an easy reminder.  It was based on 47th street, not any line of latitude, but it served its purpose.

During my tenure in the area, I’d found the best pizza place and made friends with the owners.

“Is that who I think it is?”

Jack Anderson leaned over the cash register and stuck out his hand, which I shook.  He was a dark-skinned man in his mid-fifties with white hair and stubble around his chin.  He’d been running the pizza place since his father passed away in the seventies.

“It’s been a while,” I said with a smile.

“You want the usual?” Jack asked.

“I haven’t been here in nearly a year,” I laughed.  I couldn’t believe after all this time the dude still remembered what I wanted on my pizza.  He didn’t do the traditional Chicago style, but the guy made the best thin crust and sauce around.  “Can it still be referred to as a ‘usual’?”

“Well, I don’t know anyone else who ever orders it,” Jack said.  “Face it, Evan, no one else thinks pineapple and mushroom go together.”

We laughed as he put in my order, caught up on some neighborhood shit, and then said our goodbyes as he handed me my pizza in a cardboard box with a stack of napkins on top.  I hoofed it back to the motel and Lia.  She gave me a strange look when I told her what was on the pizza but seemed to like it once she tried it.

“So, where were you born?” I asked.

“Dallas,” she said.  “My father worked for AT&T when I was young.  When my parents divorced, he and my mom split custody while I was growing up.  When mom got an offer for a new job in Phoenix, Dad didn’t want to be that far from me, so he quit his job and moved to Arizona as well.  He started working with the Navajo Nation to set up their computer networks.”

“What does your mom do?” I asked.

“She’s in the financial business.”  Lia took another bite of pizza, chewed for a bit, and then put the slice back in the box.  “I know she works in information security, but I honestly don’t quite understand it all.  She keeps hackers out of their systems, basically.”

I snorted.

“Is that funny?”

I shook my head.

“I just don’t think it’s very successful,” I said.  “There are a lot of people out there who are very good at getting past the security folks.”

“I’m sure that’s true, but she tries.  It’s pretty good money, at least, so she could afford to set aside money to send me to school.  I still haven’t managed to get a degree anywhere, of course, because that was about the time Dad died.”

“How did he die?”

“Cancer,” she said with a shrug.  “It fucking sucked.”

I watched her closely, noticing her fingers twitch and her eyes blink rapidly a few times to hold back the moisture forming in them.

“You were with him,” I said.

“I had just finished high school when he was diagnosed.  They said he had maybe a year, but he didn’t make it past eight months even with all the chemo and shit.  I took care of him because there really wasn’t anyone else, and William did all the business stuff while he was sick so we could afford medical bills.”

“So your fiancé worked for your dad?”

“Yes, for about six years.”

“While you were in high school.”

“We started dating when I was fifteen.”

“How old was he?”

She blushed a little, and my suspicions about him being quite a bit older were confirmed before she answered.

“He was twenty four at the time.”

“Around here, we would’ve called you jail bait,” I said.

“Only if the parents pressed charges,” she said, and I knew she was right.  If the parents were okay with it, well, at least one parent, then the law would turn a blind eye.

“What did your mom think?”

“She didn’t like it,” Lia said.  “She didn’t like Will, anyway, and definitely didn’t like me being with him.”

“Just because of the age thing or something else?”

“I think just age initially, but I also think she realized, long before I did, that he wasn’t quite what he pretended to be.”

“You mean before he threw you out of a moving car and left you for dead?”

Lia glanced at me with dark eyes and then looked down at her hands.

“Something like that.”

“Have you seen him since then?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

She looked back up at and me and bit her lip for a moment.

“He was there at my mom’s house.”

“After I dropped you at the bus station?”

Lia nodded.

“What happened?”

“The usual,” she responded.  She seemed to want to leave it at that, but I wouldn’t let her.  Eventually she told me the rest.  “He was drunk; Mom was yelling, and I was stuck between them.  The major difference was that I had decided I wasn’t going to do it anymore.”

“Do what?”

“Put up with him and his crap!” she growled.  “He could have really hurt me when he pushed me out of that car, and then he just left me there!  I wasn’t going to listen to him go on about how he came right back and was so sorry and spent hours looking for me—it was bullshit, and I wasn’t going to listen to it!”

She took a deep breath before she went on.

“I told him I’d found someone else.”  Lia glanced at me, seeming embarrassed for a moment.  “I know we didn’t really…well, it’s not like we committed to each other or anything, but for the first time since high school, I realized there were other options out there besides Will and how he treated me.”

She looked up at me, and her eyes began to sparkle with tears.

“It’s all right,” I soothed.  “Go on.”

“He didn’t like that answer,” she said with a shrug.  “He started yelling, and Mom told him he needed to just leave.  She came up near us, and he pushed her away.  Then he grabbed my arm and squeezed really hard–”

Lia’s breath caught in her throat, and the tears that had been building up since I stopped her at the door finally cascaded down her cheeks.  Dealing with crying chicks was definitely not something within my repertoire, so I went with the only thing I could think of—I grabbed the box of tissues from the bathroom and handed them to her.

Lia wiped her eyes and gripped her fingers around the crumpled tissue as she composed herself.

“I had bruises there for over a week afterwards.  Mom started yelling—said she was going to call the police—and that made him let go.  I told him we were through and that I never wanted to see him again.”

“What did he do?”

“He laughed.  He said I was his, and nothing was going to change that.”

A tickle in the back of my head—one that was rarely wrong—told me that I was going to kill that motherfucker someday.

“He still wasn’t leaving, so Mom ran inside the house and came back out with the phone in her hand.  When he realized that she really was calling the cops, he got in the car and left.  That was the last I saw him.”

I tried to clear my head enough to listen to the rest of the story, but it wasn’t easy.  I didn’t know what the asshole looked like, but I had enough of a vision in my head that I could see myself with the business end of my Beretta in his face.  At some point, I was going to have to find a picture of the guy and make all that come true.

Lia continued.

“Mom immediately started quizzing me about the ‘new guy’ and if that meant I really was done with William for good.”

I sat still, wondering just what she might have told her mother about me, not that Lia knew much at that time—even less than she did now—but it still left me feeling a little uneasy.  I wondered if any other girl had ever described me to her mother.

“What did you tell her?” I asked.

“Not much.”  Lia shrugged one shoulder.  “I mean, I didn’t know much, did I?  I said you were retired from the military, and we had just met by accident.  Once she found out what the ‘accident’ was, it kind of distracted her from the original conversation.  We never really talked about you again until I was leaving.”

Her eyes found mine.

“She told me to be careful,” Lia said.  “She told me that I didn’t really know much about you and that you might not even be who I think you are.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her I would be careful and not to worry.  I didn’t know much about you, but I was sure you weren’t like William.  We both considered that a step up, so that was it.”

Lia stared down at her hands as tears started spilling off her eyelashes again.

“And then…and then…” Lia sniffed and wiped at her nose with the tissue again.  “Then I found that cabin and your note, and I just…I didn’t know what to do or what to think.”

Without knowing what else I could do, I reached out and took her hand again.  Lia’s fingers gripped mine, and she leaned against my shoulder.  With one arm around her, I pulled her against my chest and rubbed up and down the top part of her arm while she cried.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered against her hair when she stopped sobbing.  “I didn’t want to leave like that.  I didn’t have a choice.”

“Where did you go?” she asked.

“Back here,” I said.  “My boss told me I had to come back.”

“Your boss?”

Shit.

I wasn’t ready for this yet.  I needed to wait until morning.  It was selfish and probably shitty, but I wanted inside of her one last time before she knew the truth.  There was no telling how she would react, but she seemed like a normal, rational person.  The likelihood of her telling me to stay the fuck out of her life was pretty high.

“Where do you work?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

She shoved against my chest and glared at me.

“Who is your boss?” she demanded.

“I thought we were saving my life story for the morning.”  I tried to make light of it all and failed.

More glaring.

I sighed.

“His name is Rinaldo Moretti,” I said.  “He’s a pretty demanding guy, and that’s all I’m saying for now.”

Lia kept her narrowed eyes locked with mine for a minute, but I didn’t falter.  Her shoulders rose and fell with the breath she huffed out as she stood up from the bed and tossed the last couple pieces of pizza into the tiny refrigerator in the corner.

“Fine,” she said, “but I want to know tomorrow.”

“I’ll tell you,” I promised.  “I just need a little time to…to prepare, I guess.”

She walked back and stood in front of me.  I reached up and placed my hands on her hips as she leaned forward and placed her lips to mine.  She started with just a quick, closed mouth kiss, but I grabbed the back of her head and deepened it.

Nothing was going to stop me from having one last night with her.

Chapter 9—Gentle Night

The cool breeze from the ceiling fan chilled my back, which was coated in sweat after our second session of hard fucking that night.  I swallowed and tried to regain my composure as Lia’s fingernails dug into my shoulders.  As she panted and her body shuddered a final time, her grip relaxed and she brought her arms up over her head, grasping the pillow above her.

“That was incredible,” she said.

I smiled a cocky half-smile and rotated my hips against her again.  I couldn’t move much, or I was going to slip out of her, so I just rocked my hips a little instead of actually thrusting.  I wrapped my arms underneath her shoulders and held her chest to mine as I ran my lips and tongue up her throat.

“Do you have any plans to actually sleep? Lia asked.

Bending my elbows, I slid my hands down her sides and then up her arms until my fingers could grip her wrists.  I pushed them against the pillow as I pressed her firmly to the bed with the rest of my body.

“I was thinking I’d just hold you down here until I got hard again.”

“Such a romantic!” Lia snickered.

She was joking, and even though that was clear, there was something else in her eyes as they tightened just a little as she glanced to the side.  She wasn’t pissed off by the comment, but didn’t all chicks want some level of romance?  I had no idea how to play the role of an actual boyfriend.  Was I supposed to buy some fucking flowers now?

Where was Nick when I needed him?

I loosened my grip around her wrists and dragged my fingers down the length of her arm until I reached her shoulder.  I circled a spot on her skin there before leaning in to press my lips to it.  I held them there for a long moment and then rolled off of her and stared up at the ceiling.

Lia angled herself to one side and looked at me.  Her hand rested on my upper arm for a moment before she traced the outlines of muscles from my bicep down to my wrist.  Maybe she needed romance, and maybe she didn’t, but I felt like she deserved something from me—something genuine.  There were questions in her eyes, and I responded before she could ask them.

“You gave me my sanity back,” I said quietly.  “Your presence, your words, your touch, and your body—they brought me back from someplace I don’t ever want to be again.  The way I feel when I’m with you—like I could spend the rest of my life just looking in your eyes—it scares the shit out of me.  It’s more terrifying than that place I was inside my head.  The best way I can come up with to cope with that is being inside of you, because when I’m there, everything is right.  It’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

Why all of that made her smile and brought tears to her eyes at the same time, I didn’t understand.  She seemed more happy about what I had said than not, at least.  Maybe I didn’t need to understand it—I mean, I wanted to figure her out, but what guy really knows what’s going on in a woman’s head?

“I’m glad I showed up when I did,” she finally said.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have wanted to miss that scene.”  I snorted a laugh.

“Not because of that, obviously.”  Lia turned to her side and propped her head up with her hand.  “I’m glad I was there in time to know what happened to you, so I could help.  If I had showed up a day later…well, who knows how long it might have taken me to figure out where you were?”

I couldn’t help but wonder how everything might be different if she had arrived the day before.  Maybe I wouldn’t have killed Bridgett and gone off the deep end at all, except that I still would have found out about her betrayal eventually.  What would I have done then?

Probably the same.

It was all the more reason for me to get Lia out of my life, but I couldn’t bring myself to think along those lines.  I was going to tell her everything, and whatever happened after that, happened.  Maybe she would accept it, and maybe she wouldn’t, but I was going to do whatever I possibly could to keep her.

“What are you thinking about?” Lia asked.

I pulled myself out of my head and smiled up at her.

“I’m just glad you were there, too.  I think Mark’s comment about dying from lack of sleep is total bullshit, but I definitely prefer being able to get a little shut-eye every once in a while.”

She looked at me for a minute and then leaned down to press her lips against mine.  I reciprocated, reaching up to the back of her head and holding her closer so I could get my tongue in her mouth.  A couple minutes of kissing, and I was ready for round three.

My hands moved over her body, gripped her tits, then continued down her stomach and to her hips.  My mouth followed, and Lia’s fingers traced the outline of the muscles in my shoulder and back as I licked around her navel.

I pushed her legs apart a bit, then teased over her outer labia until she was wriggling under me.  With a little more pressure, I cupped her pussy and my thumb circled her clit.  Lia let out a groan, and I moved two fingers inside of her, which made her jump a bit.  When I glanced up at her, the look on her face wasn’t one of pleasure, though, so I stopped.

“You okay?”

“I’m just a little sore,” Lia said with a blush.  Her teeth went after her bottom lip again, so I reached up and pulled it away.

“I can stop.”  I didn’t want to, but obviously I would.  “Take a break for a while.”

“No, don’t stop.  It’s okay.”

Some odd version of a gentleman inside me told me to stop anyway because she was just being nice and giving in to what she knew I wanted.  The selfish, horny bastard inside of me had a lot more influence over my mouth, though.

“Want me to go slow?”

“Do you know how to do it that way?”  Her beautiful smile teased me.

I didn’t answer.  I just rolled over on top of her, holding my weight up off her skin with my legs out by her sides and one hand pressed against the mattress near her shoulder.  With my free hand, I traced the backs of my fingers from her shoulder down to her wrist.  I leaned down and kissed the spot right above her heart, trailed more light touches with my lips up to her neck, and then whispered against her ear.

“I will always give it to you exactly how you need it.”

With my hand against her jaw, I tilted her head back and kissed slowly down the front of her throat.  I licked lightly over her nipples, kissed each of them, and then moved to the side so I could better reach her with my other hand.

I continued down her body, moving my lips gently over her pink skin.  At times, I barely touched her, just grazed the fine hairs of her stomach and below.  My head tilted to the side, and I continued down the inside of one of her thighs until I reached her knee.  I wanted to get her off again—it was a moral imperative—but she’d already said she was sore.

An idea came to me, and I got up from the bed and extended my hand to Lia.

“Come with me.”

She nodded, wrapped her fingers in mine, and I led her into the bathroom.  I turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature up high.  As the water heated, I grabbed the bath towels and laid them out on the bed.

When I returned to the bathroom and checked the water, it was just a little warmer than what was usually comfortable, but exactly what I needed.  I stepped in first, letting the hot water cascade over my back as I pulled Lia in after me.  I kissed her as the water flowed over us, and I reached up to curl my fingers through her hair as I held her mouth to mine.

Without breaking our kiss, I skimmed my fingers down her sides and then around to her front.  I brought them up to cup and lift her breasts with my thumbs flicking lightly across her nipples.

Lia moaned into my mouth, and I kissed her deeply but still slowly and softly.  I explored her body with my hands, pressing my chest to hers and reveling in the sensation of her touch on my back.  I wrapped my arms around her and turned her around slowly until my chest was to her back, and she was facing the stream of water.

“It’s really hot,” she said.

“Is it too much?”

“Not quite,” Lia said, “but close.”

“Trust me,” I whispered against her ear.  My lips pressed to her neck, and my hands moved back to cup her breasts again.  I maneuvered her a little more into the stream of water and dropped one hand down to her stomach.  With circular movements, I massaged her stomach and thighs as the heat from the water penetrated her skin.

Lia leaned back against me and moaned.

“Feel good?” I asked.

“Very.”

With my hand moving between her thighs, I used one foot to tap her legs apart a little so I could reach her better.  I used two fingers to rub gently over her outer lips, then pressed and moved my fingers apart.  As I angled her body into the stream, the hot water began to flow right over her pussy.

“Oh, shit!”

“Too much?” I asked.

“I…I…no,” Lia stammered.  “It’s…intense.”

“Exactly.”

I rubbed the outside lightly, but let the hot water do the rest of the work.  Lia began to squirm against me, and her ass pressed firmly against my stiff cock.  I sucked at the top of her shoulder, then kissed down her arm as she pushed back harder until I couldn’t take any more.

Running my fingers over her once more, I shut the shower off, picked Lia up, and carried her back to the bed.  I placed her in the center of the towels and then crawled over the top of her, kissing her all the way.  When my fingers found her entrance again, I watched her face carefully.

She tilted her head up and pressed against the towel, eyes closed.

“Not as sore?” I asked quietly.

“Much better,” she said with a nod.  Her eyes opened, and she looked at me.  “That felt incredible.  I didn’t know if I would come just standing there like that, but it felt as good as a massage does.”

I smiled down at her, kissed her stomach, and then moved up a bit to give her nipples some attention.  The cool air on her wet skin was causing them to constrict and stand up—just waiting for my mouth to warm them again.

With more moans from Lia, I ran my tongue over each nipple and then took the first one in my mouth.  I sucked lightly and then ran my tongue all around the edge.  My hands continued running up and down from her hips to her shoulders until Lia was writhing under me again and squeezing my forearms tightly.  My fingers made their way back between her legs, smoothly parting her lips and making way for the head of my cock.

She shivered as I took my cock in my hand and ran it up and down her folds a few times before centering on her opening.  I moved my hips forward extremely slowly, and I watched as her body opened to me and enveloped me, tip to shaft.

Exquisite.

I buried myself in her, held there for a long moment, and then slowly pulled completely out.  Lia groaned in protest, but my cock was right back at her pussy, pushing down inside of her as slowly as the first thrust had been.

“Jesus, Evan!”

I looked up at her, and my skin warmed to see her laid out before me like that.  I could see my cock sliding back out of her, watch her face tighten in protest as I slipped back out, and hear her soft moans as I filled her again.

Perfect.

Because my brain must hate me, it chose that moment to remind me that this could be it—this could be the last time I would be inside of her like this.  Once morning came, and I told her everything, I had to be prepared for her to walk out on me.

This had to count.  Mean something.

I tightened my ass and moved deeply into her, pulled back, and out again.

“Please, Evan!”

“Please what, baby?”

“I need you…in me…please!”

“You want my cock?”

“God, yes…”

I glided back inside of her, but only about halfway.  I pulled back to just the tip and then went back in halfway again.  Over and over, the top of my cock rubbing against the inside, back set of nerves connected to her clitoris.  After nine strokes, I buried myself totally and Lia cried out.

“Evan!  Oh my…my God…”

I pulled out, ran my hand across her stomach, and then slid back inside halfway.  More short strokes—eight this time.  After the eighth, I penetrated deep, pulled nearly out, and then back in deep again.

“Holy shit!”

“Hush,” I whispered against her skin as I pulled back out again.

“Evan!”

“Hmm?”

Her chest rose and fell, and her desperate eyes captured me.

“What are you doing to me?”

“Hush,” I said again.  “Just feel.”

I repeated the action, seven short strokes, then three long and deep.  I pulled out; I started over again.  Six short, four long.  I felt the muscles in my thighs tighten and my balls threaten to explode, but I refused to give in.  I was going to make this one last.

It had to count.

With every movement of my hips, I thought it might be the last.  Even as my cock throbbed in her body, my mind recoiled in terror at the thought.  All the control I usually had in such situations just didn’t come in to play.  I wasn’t the one who mastered this relationship—it was all her.

My tongue flicked over her nipple once, and Lia shuddered.  I continued the pattern, quickly reaching the point when I continued with long, slow thrusts deep inside of her as Lia dug her nails in my back and started to cry out over and over again.  I felt her body tighten around my cock, her legs twitch as they wrapped around my waist, and tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

Does she know?  Does she think this is it, too?

Lia reached up around my neck and wrapped her arms around my head.  She pulled at me until my forehead was against her shoulder, and I continued to thrust deep inside of her as sweat dripped from my forehead to her skin.  I tucked my arms under her body and held her against me as I tried to hold on.

I wanted it to last.  I didn’t want to come in her at all—just keep going for the rest of eternity.  I couldn’t, though, not just because of the absurdity of the notion, but because she felt too damn good.

“Jesus,” I whispered against the warm skin of her neck.  My mind attempted to slow the movements of my hips, but my cock wanted it all and ultimately won.  I pushed against her a final time and felt my balls empty into her.

I shuddered again from my shoulders to my calves before I tightened my arms around her as much as I dared and collapsed on top of her.  Lia’s legs gripped around my waist and held me inside of her as I panted hot breath on her neck.  My mind swam, and I was nearly swallowed inside of the feelings of completeness, tranquility, and peace.

If I lost this in the morning, Trent and Rinaldo and Greco wouldn’t fucking matter.  I’d die if she left me.

* * *

I woke sometime in the middle of the night.  The streetlights were glowing around the edge of the curtains at the window, and Lia’s slow breathing was the only sound in the room.

My head was empty.

There were no memories, no thoughts of the next person I needed to stalk and kill, and no concerns about Moretti or Greco or jail—just the warmth of the body next to mine and the peace that came with it.

It just felt…good.

Maybe I didn’t deserve it.  Hell, I most certainly didn’t, but I didn’t care.  I wanted it.  I wanted her next to me every time I woke up.  I wanted to feel her warm breath on my skin and the scent of her hair in my nose.  For the first time in my life, the idea of just settling down and being with someone else long-term seemed attractive.

I didn’t just want it; I needed it.

Moving slowly, I untangled myself from Lia, took a quick piss, and then went over to the window to peek out.  There was a bright streetlamp just outside, which gave me a decent view of the area.  Sentry duty suddenly seemed like a good plan, so I pulled my jeans on and let my Beretta sit across my lap as I watched outside and thought about the woman still sleeping in the bed.

If I had been a completely stupid person, I would have let the desire to just run off with her overwhelm me and do precisely that.  However, I knew exactly where that road would lead—a life on the run.  I’d spend all my time watching over my shoulder and waiting for Trent to catch up with me and haul me to federal prison for the rest of my life or for Rinaldo to offer me a more permanent form of retirement.

The strangest thing was, if I had been pressured by those two scenarios a month ago, I wouldn’t have given a shit what the consequences might have been.  I would have just done whatever the fuck I wanted to do because I didn’t care what happened to me.

Sometime over the last week, Lia changed all of that.

Maybe I should have been pissed off at her for it.  My simple, if dangerous, life had been turned upside down by her coming into it the way she did.  No—that wasn’t fair; it wasn’t her, but how I felt about her.  On the inside, she made me feel more powerful than I ever had in my life.  On the outside, I knew she was a dangerous weakness.

Others would know it, too.

I couldn’t leave her alone.  No matter what else happened, I had to keep her with me, both for her to be safe as well as for the more selfish reasons.  As long as she was close by, I’d sleep well.  If I was sleeping well, the chances of me keeping us both alive through all this were best.

This was assuming she was going to have anything to do with me at all after breakfast.

There was a very real chance she was going to take me up on my offer to get her to the airport and out of the city.  It wouldn’t be the safest option for her, and I didn’t want it at all, but she might not leave me with a reasonable choice.

A few unreasonable choices—including holding her prisoner in a basement for the rest of her life just so I could sleep and be near here—crossed my mind.  None of them were realistic, and some of them weren’t even plausible, but that didn’t stop them from having a little picnic inside my head.

I knew I had to come clean about all of it and just live with whatever she decided, but I didn’t like it.  Keeping her in the dark and close to me sounded so much better.  Maybe if I had found myself a dumb chick, it would have worked—but not with Lia.  She was too smart.

Lia stirred and eventually woke up.  I let her take a shower while I ran out for coffee and breakfast sandwiches from a nearby fast-food place.  By the time I returned, she was dressed and sitting on the bed, combing through her wet hair.

“Fucking beautiful,” I murmured.

Lia’s eyes met mine, and she smiled slightly.  I could see the tension in her back and shoulders as she sat there and waited for me to spill the beans.  I debated trying to talk her into another romp beforehand, but I knew it couldn’t be any better than last night had been.  Instead, I handed her an egg-and-cheese bagel, and we ate in silence.  As the last of the crumbs were dusted away, I knew I had run out of time.

“What do you want to know first” I asked her, “what happened to me as a POW or what the fuck is going on now?”

“I don’t know,” she said.  “Does what happened to you over there lead into what’s happening now?”

I shrugged.

“Basically,” I said.  “I mean, it’s what led to everything afterwards, so yeah, I guess so.”

“Then I’ll take chronological order,” she told me.

I realized that since I had left incarceration there had been only one thought that came into my head that mattered—Lia.  It was also the one thought I continued to fight against.  Deep inside, it was clear to me that nothing good was going to come of this.  It was dangerous for her to even be seen with me, and giving her all the information I was about to give her was only going to make that worse.  On top of it all, she had seen me at the lowest point in my life.

She saw me—broken, destroyed, and being taken away in handcuffs so I couldn’t hurt myself or anyone else.  I'd never be able to remove the memories from her head and make it right.  She would always remember me in that state—a sociopath begging her to watch over my dog.

What was she going to do when she knew the why of it all?

Nothing in my life was going to be harder than this.

Chapter 10—Blatant Truth

“I joined the Marines when I was seventeen.”

It seemed like as good a place as any to start.

“Why seventeen?  Did your parents want you to?”

Or not.

“No, I never met my parents.”  I sighed and dropped onto the ledge by the window.  I ran my hand over my head, somewhat disgusted by how long my hair had gotten, but also recalling how it felt when Lia had her fingers in it, so I couldn’t hate it too much.  “I was an orphan.  I grew up in a convent in southwestern Ohio.”

“A convent?  You mean, a place for nuns?”

“Yeah, and also orphanages a lot of the time, usually for kids who are hard to place in foster care or whatever.”

“Are you Catholic, then?”

I snickered a bit.

“Nah, not really.  Not anymore.”  My hand instinctively moved up to my chest, and I fingered the dog tags hanging there.  I could feel the raised letters.

“What happened to your parents?  How old were you when you went there?”

“I don’t really know,” I admitted.  “I’ve never found out who they were, just that—for whatever reason—they either died or didn’t want me.  I was there as long as I can remember, so I guess pretty much always.  No one would ever tell me what happened, not even when I got older.  I’ve always assumed it was because they didn’t want to deal with a kid at all because if they were dead, someone would just tell me, wouldn’t they?”

“You would think so,” Lia agreed.  She lay back on the bed and leaned her head against her hand.  “So why seventeen?”

“I was emancipated.  I was done with high school, but I didn’t really have any money or anything.  I wanted to go to college, so the military made sense.”

“Are orphans usually emancipated?”

“No, not usually.”

“So why were you?”

I hadn’t expected this portion of my past to really be a part of the conversation, and I wasn’t prepared to talk about it.  Still, I had promised her I would tell her everything, so I did.

“Because I asked for it,” I said, “and the Mother Superior wasn’t in a position to deny it.”

“What do you mean by that?”  Lia’s eyes darkened.

She was way too perceptive.

“Well…” I let my voice trail off a second while I thought about how to word it.  There really wasn’t a clean way to do it, so I went with blunt.  “I’d been fucking her, and I threatened to use it against her if she didn’t sign the papers.”

“Holy shit!” Lia yelled out.  “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“But you were underage!  How old was she?”

“Fuck, I don’t know.  Fifty-something, maybe?”

“Jesus Christ, Evan!”

“It had been going on for years,” I told her.  “I think I was fourteen when it started.”

Lia contemplated a moment.

“She molested you.”

“Whatever you want to call it,” I said with a shrug.  “I wasn’t complaining.  Knowing all her dirty little secrets came in handy when I wanted something.  If she was using me, I was using her just as much.”

I watched Lia closely as she let my words sink in.  She was staring down at the sheets, watching her fingers twist the fabric.

“You still want me to go on?”

“Of course,” she said quietly.

“Your mom was right, you know.”

“About what?”

“You don’t know much about me.  You might not want to know all this shit.”

Lia thought for a moment and then looked back to me.

“I want to know,” she stated.

“It’s going to change everything.”  My voice carried both warning and desperation.  “I won’t be able to take it back.  You won’t be able to just forget it.”

“I know.”

With a deep breath, I continued.

“I went through basic training and figured out I was a damn good shot.  I became an expert marksman very quickly, so I went for sniper school at the base in Quantico, Virginia, and finished out on top.  I could take out targets over a mile away and hardly ever missed.”

“Shit,” Lia said with a sharp outtake of breath.

“I ended up deployed to the Middle East as part of a Scout Sniper platoon to do reconnaissance into Afghanistan for a while, did well, got promoted to staff sergeant, and led the other members of the platoon under the captain of the battalion.  When he was killed in battle, I was promoted to lieutenant in the field and took over for the rest of the…well, up until the time I was captured.”

My mind raced with memories, and I dropped my hand from my dog tags when I realized I was gripping them.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

“We were scouting out the area where one of the Al Qaida leaders was supposedly spotted.  My team was the first one out, and we were the deepest into the area, but we hadn’t seen anything for days.  There were four other groups behind us—spread out several miles to cover as much terrain as possible.  We weren’t supposed to engage or anything yet—just watch and report back when the time was right for the rest of the SF infantry to join us.”

“SF?”

“Sorry.  Special Forces.”

“Got it.”

“We had a small base set up in the rocks around the desert—tents, a couple Hummers, and a small outbuilding.  I was back behind the outbuilding when they attacked.”

I took a slow, steady breath.  I was trying to keep my memories focused on the debriefing that took place after I returned to Virginia and not on the events themselves, but it wasn’t completely possible.

“Like I said, it had been really quiet.  I think we got a little complacent, which is how they managed to get the drop on us.  I heard some noise, came back around, and everyone in my unit was dead.”

“Oh my God.”

I didn’t look at her as I went on.

“I didn’t really have much time to react.  I got hit over the head, came to for a few seconds in a truck, bumping down a road, but got hit again.  The next thing I really remember, I was in one of their camps.  They didn’t do much but smack me around for a while and ask me where the other units were located– they were waiting for their leader to show up.”

“What did you do?”

“Gave them my name, rank, and service number,” I said with a hollow laugh.  “Just like the fucking movies.  I couldn’t really do much of anything—they had me hogtied.  They kept hitting me with a bag full of fucking potatoes or something—ached for days, even when they left me alone for a while.”

When I glanced at her, I could see her looking at me closely, and I knew exactly what she was doing—checking for scars.

I stood up, unbuckled my belt, and shoved my jeans down just a bit over my hip.

“That’s the only one I have,” I told her as I showed her a two-inch long, faded scar on my left side.  “The insurgents didn’t even give it to me.  There was a bunch of shit lying around the motor pool when I got drunk and fell on a sharp piece of metal.  I didn’t want to tell anyone what had happened, so I tried to take care of it myself.  It got pretty infected, and I ended up in the infirmary anyway.  It was the only official reprimand I ever received while I was serving.  I think my captain called it ‘for being a dumbass.’”

I laughed and shook my head.

“The guys who captured me—they didn’t want to leave any permanent marks—hardly ever even hit me in the face.”

“What happened when the leader arrived?”

“Classic interrogation,” I replied.  “He was a decent-sized guy with a shitload of facial hair and a nasty attitude.  I never did hear his name, and he wasn’t someone well-known enough that I’d seen his picture before.  He shoved my head in a bucket of water until I nearly drowned, then shoved my face into the sand.  Then he had the rest of them beat on me for a while, claim they already knew the answers to the questions they were asking me, then start kicking me.  He tore off my fingernails and seemed to have a pretty good time doing it.”

Lia gasped, but I didn’t stop.

“They’d ask questions; I wouldn’t give them anything, and then they’d start all over again.  He yelled a lot, but he never could get anything out of me.  After a few days, they tossed a burlap sack over my head and loaded me into a truck again.  I tried to count so I could get an idea of how far we were going, but I didn’t really know where we started from, so it wasn’t very helpful.  Still, I figure we drove about three hours.  Once we stopped, I was pulled into a shed where they just made me kneel on concrete while they spoke in Arabic.  I didn’t catch much of it—just got the idea they were setting something up.  There were a lot of scraping sounds, like they were moving things around.”

“When they took the bag off, I could see two other guys tied up like me.  They had cameras and shit set up all around us, and there were Afghani soldiers standing all over the place with assault rifles pointed at us.”

I turned my eyes to Lia to see how she was taking it all.  She had moved to a sitting position on the bed and was watching me with her hands in her lap.

“I figured that was it, you know?” I said as I looked at her.  “I thought they were just going to execute us and be done with it.”

“That’s where the video came from,” Lia said.

“That’s the one,” I confirmed.  “It got a lot of YouTube hits before it was taken down, I hear.”

I collected my thoughts for a minute before going on.

“You’ve watched it, so you know a lot of what happened next.  They wanted us to say how well we were being treated, which made me laugh, and then they wanted us to say that the US president was wrong to have troops in the Middle East and that we agreed they should all be removed—the usual shit.  The journalist guy—he just kept crying and screaming that he didn’t know anything.  The other one, though—I knew him.”

“Who was he?” Lia asked when I stopped talking for a minute.

“He was another Marine—a private who had just been deployed a few months before.  I’d seen him around a few times, but he wasn’t a sniper, so I didn’t know him too well.  He was part of the infantry group who would have joined us if we had spotted the enemy first.  He kept telling them to fuck off until they bashed his head with the butt of one of their rifles.  He was unconscious during the filming.”

“What was his name?” Lia asked.

“Classified,” I responded automatically.  The last thing I wanted to think about was the freckle-faced private who had ultimately been our demise.  I still thought he went down way too easy when they hit him and wondered if he had been conscious though it all.  Regardless, if he hadn’t cracked, my unit might have made it through.  I might never have been captured.

She blinked a couple of times but didn’t ask again.

“When we wouldn’t cooperate, they went with Plan B.  They started rolling the cameras and told the world that we were invading their country unlawfully and all that bullshit.  They said they were going to execute one of us as a spy, and I told them to kill me, but they didn’t.  They took out the civilian dude just to make some fucking point.  I was bagged and loaded back into the truck and taken somewhere else—I don’t know where.  It took a lot longer than it had taken us to get to where they did the filming.  I’d counted maybe four hours before I ended up falling asleep.”

“Once we got there, it was pretty obvious the place was a fairly permanent site.  There were decently constructed buildings hidden in the rocks and not just soldiers there, but women and children, too.  I was dumped in a small room in the dark for a while, maybe just for the night—I’m not sure—and then they started all over again.  Mostly they deprived me of any food and water, trying to break me down.  I wasn’t too interested in dying of dehydration, but I figured at that point, I wasn’t going to make it anyway.”

I looked over at the clock on the nightstand and realized I had been talking for more than an hour and a half already.  I still hadn’t even gotten to the good shit—the shit that was likely going to make her turn and run.

“Give me a minute,” I said.  I stood up and walked out the door, not even bothering to put on a shirt or anything.  Luckily, the dude at the front desk was willing to sell me a few of his cigarettes, so I didn’t have to go far.

“Don’t smoke in the room,” he called out as I walked away.

Whatever.

I lit up with a pack of matches displaying the motel’s name on the front and walked into the room where Lia was still sitting on the bed.

“You smoke?”  She seemed taken aback.

“Not usually,” I replied.  I grabbed one of the plastic cups from the bathroom to use as an ashtray and put a little water in the bottom of it, then took my spot on the windowsill and went on.

“Once they figured out all their abuse wasn’t going to work on me, they tried just letting me rot for days at a time in-”

My throat tried to close up on me, like my body didn’t even want the words to come out of my mouth, but I swallowed hard and fought for a little control.

“They put me in a big hole in the ground out in the sun, sand everywhere, and when the sun got to the top of the sky, my back would blister in the heat.  After a few days of just leaving me there, they’d come up and ask if I wanted water.  Then they’d pour salt water all over me and leave.  Usually the next day, they’d haul me out and give me something to drink.  Then I was back in the hole.  I think they were trying to just…I don’t know…drive me crazy?  It probably worked.”

My organs felt like they were trying to climb out of my skin, and I realized I was gnawing on the edge of my thumb with the hand that didn’t contain the nearly burnt-down cigarette.  I stopped chewing on myself and tossed the butt into the cup of water.

Lia sat quietly, barely moving.  She was holding back tears, but I wasn’t looking for her sympathy.  I only wanted to get through this shit so she would understand and hopefully decide my reasons for all the shit I had done were valid enough.

“So, that’s where I stayed for months,” I finally said.  “Every once in a while they’d give me water and maybe some rice, but that was it.  I’d completely lost track of how long it had been, but one day when they brought me out, that same guy—the leader of that group, or one of them, at least—came back.  He started telling me a bunch of shit that was all classified information that he definitely shouldn’t have known.  I figured out then that the private I’d seen when they filmed us must have cracked.  He certainly would have had knowledge of the intel this guy was telling me.”

I leaned over and put my elbows on my knees.  Closing my eyes for a moment, I tried not to let the anger from that time get to me.

“Then he tells me when and where they picked the dude up.”  My hands clenched into fists.  “Turns out they had him long before they got me.  At some point, I realized he was the one who gave away our position, though it wasn’t confirmed until after I came home.”

“The private betrayed me,” Lia whispered.

“What?”

“You’ve said it in your sleep,” she replied, “a couple of times.”

More talking in my fucking sleep.  Ultimately, that was what cost Bridgett her life—she learned too much from me while I was napping.

“What else have I said?”  I swallowed past the tightness in my throat and awaited her answer.

“Nothing that made any sense,” she said.  “Like what you said about the private betraying you—I never would have known what that meant until you told me.  You’ve said the word ‘sand’ several times and something about being hit, and lots of letters and numbers that didn’t make sense.   I never understood anything else you said.”

I wondered what the letters and numbers might have meant.  They could have been military abbreviations, weapon types, codes—there were too many possible answers without having her write them down or something.  If she did that, then I would have to explain it to her, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to set myself up like that.

Maybe I could record myself sleeping.

“I’m sorry,” Lia said.  “I sidetracked you.”

“It’s all right.  I could use a break.”

We ate a little of the leftover pizza, and I took a minute to shave.  It was good to have the scruff off; I hated it when my face was stubbly and scratchy.  I wished I had my trimmers with me so I could give myself a haircut as well, but I was going to have to live with just the shave.

I made a valiant attempt to distract Lia into fucking again, but she wasn’t having any of it.  She quickly and definitively steered me back to my life’s story.  I sighed as I gave up and then sat with my back against the headboard.

“So I figured out the private was how they found us,” I went on, “and the insurgent leader continued to try to get more out of me.”

Flashes in my head started feeling like a hammer against my temples.

“You like to tell me your numbers?  I’ll give you numbers!  How about you count this?  Maybe we just keep going until we hit your number, huh?”

My gut tightened up, and my body went stiff.  For a moment, Lia and the motel room were gone, and there was nothing but sand and sweat and pain.

“Evan?  Evan, baby—it’s okay.  I’m right here.”

I felt hands on my face and realized my wrists weren’t bound.  I reached out and grabbed the arms that tried to encircle me, and then I heard her voice.

“It’s okay, Evan, it’s me.  It’s Lia.”

It was the cracking in her voice that brought me out of it.  My eyes found her, and I saw the streaks of tears running down her cheeks.  Releasing her forearms, I reached out and brushed one of the tears away.

“Sorry.”

“What were you remembering?” she asked.

I closed my eyes and swallowed.  I felt her fingers against my jaw and turned slightly to press my face to her palm.

“Just…everything he did.  Trying to get information…trying to break me.”

I opened my eyes to find her staring into my face.  My chest rose and fell as I tried to take in enough air.  I could see it—I could see it in her face.  She knew there was more, and she was going to ask for the details.  My hands clenched, and I started to hyperventilate.

“Evan.”  Lia’s voice was stern, the tone causing me to instinctively look to her eyes.  “You’re all right.  You are with me, and I’m not going to ask you anything else about that, okay?  He hurt you—I understand that—and that’s enough detail.”

I nodded once, then again.  My body was shaking uncontrollably, and I couldn’t even figure out how I’d let it get this far.  I could feel sand in my throat and up my nose, heat from the desert sun on my skin, and there were hands on my back and arms—pushing me down and holding me to the ground.

Then they were gone, and it was just me and Lia in a motel room bed.  Her arms were around my head, and I rested my cheek on her stomach.

* * *

“You don’t have to tell me any more.”

As much as I knew she was trying to make it easier, Lia giving me an out was actually making it more difficult.

“There’s a shit ton I haven’t told you,” I reminded her.  “You need to know about some of it because of what’s happening now.”

Lia sighed and nodded.

“I really had lost all track of time after I had been there a few months,” I said.  “I was always tied up, so I couldn’t even make scratches on a wall or anything, and I was in that…that fucking hole most of the time anyway.  I spent most of the time trying not to think, but there wasn’t anything else to do.  I counted up all my sins and asked God to forgive them.  I swore if He’d just let me die, I’d do the penance or whatever I needed to do—anything to stop the fucking pain.”

I paused and raised an eyebrow at her.

“So, no,” I said with a sardonic grin, “I’m not Catholic anymore.  God can kiss my ass for letting me rot there for a year and a half.”

Lia’s teeth grabbed her lower lip, and her eyes tensed.  She nodded slightly, and I went on with my story.

“When their base was raided, and I was rescued, I’d pretty much given up any hope.  I didn’t even believe there was anyone there, you know?  I thought my mind had totally cracked and I was hallucinating.  I don’t think I started believing it was all over until I was at the hospital in Germany, and that was because they finally gave me something strong enough to make the pain stop.”

I took a deep breath.

“Malnutrition, dehydration, muscle atrophy—which took a decent amount of physical therapy before I could walk properly—a dislocated shoulder, four fractured ribs.  That’s what they said I had and kept telling me how lucky I was that I was otherwise unharmed.”

I laughed humorlessly.

“That’s a good one, huh?  Otherwise unharmed.”

“I can’t say that I find it very funny, no,” Lia remarked.

I pulled my legs up and rested my arms over my knees as I smoked.  I held the butt end of the cigarette between my thumb and first two fingers and angled the lit end toward the palm of my hand, shielding the glow from view.  It took a few minutes for me to get myself out of my own head and back to the rest of my little tale, but Lia was patient.  I finished the smoke and kept talking.

“My first episode was maybe a month or so after I came back to the States,” I recalled.  “I remember the first time because it scared the shit out of me.  I was at the gym doing leg presses or something like that, and all of a sudden, they were there—all around me.  They were yelling, and I could hear the gunfire and see the smoke.  The whole floor had become sand, and when I stood up, I fell face-first into it.”

I grabbed another cigarette and lit it.

“I spent a lot of time in the psych ward at the military hospital in Hampton, Virginia.  The doctors there treated me for a couple of months.  PTSD, the psych said.  He wanted to write a fucking book about what I went through, but I wouldn’t authorize it.  They talked about giving me a desk job, and I pretty much told them to shove it.  I was a sniper, for fuck’s sake.  What was I going to do behind a desk?”

I took a few puffs off the smoke to calm myself again and wondered why I thought it sucked when I just felt numb.  I’d give most anything to feel numb about all of it right now.

“I was honorably discharged and moved back to Ohio, thinking I at least knew the area, even if I didn’t really want anything to do with the people I knew there.  I spent every dime I had to buy my Barrett rifle.  Whatever money I made doing odd jobs, I spent on ammo and time at the shooting range.”

“You bought the rifle?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

I looked over to her quizzically, thinking the answer was obvious, but then I couldn’t find the words to express why I needed it.

“It was…comforting,” I finally said.  “It’s almost like…I don’t know…an extension of myself.  I needed it.”

I could tell she didn’t get it, but I didn’t know what else to say to make myself clear.

“That’s where I met Jonathan.”

“Who’s Jonathan?”

“He was just another guy at the range,” I said.  “He was always complimenting me on my accuracy and wanted to try out my Barrett.  He ended up inviting me out to his place where he had his own shooting range set up on private property.  He wasn’t in town a lot, but he said I could come out anytime I wanted to shoot.  Saved me a lot of money, and he never pressed me for information about what had happened to me.  He eventually figured out I’d been a POW and whatever, but he never pushed, you know?”

Lia looked down at her hands.

“Am I pushing too much?” she asked.

“It’s a bit late to be asking,” I said with a quiet chuckle.  “No, it’s okay.  I want you to know.  Well, no, I don’t, but I think you should anyway.”

Lia nodded.

“At some point, we ended up talking about…well, about other shit.  Career shit.  I didn’t have one, and even though the military would have paid for college at that point, I had no desire to be a fucking engineer or whatever any more.  He offered me an alternative.”

I stopped.  This was it—the rest would be what might drive her away forever.  I’d let her go, too.  I wouldn’t like it, but I’d do it.

“Jonathan asked me to come to Chicago with him to meet the guy he worked for.  I did, and his boss offered me a job doing what I do best.”

“What do you do best, Evan?” Lia asked when I paused too long.

I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and then looked straight at her.

“I’m a hit man, Lia.  I work for the largest crime family in the city, and I kill people for money.”

Nothing could take back my words now.

Chapter 11—Unexpected Reaction

Lia sat on the bed and just stared at me for way too long.

I wasn’t sure if she had even heard me at first, but I realized pretty quickly that she had.  I couldn’t read her though.  There weren’t any obvious signs of what was going through her head.  She actually seemed a little stupefied.

“Lia?”

“That’s a joke, right?”

“Why would I joke about that?” I asked.

“Because you can’t possibly be serious,” she answered.

“You wanted to know how that guy outside knew who I was,” I reminded her.  “There’s your answer.  Gangs don’t fuck with us—they know they’d get wiped out in a weekend.  The last time I was in this neighborhood, I took out seven of them in about three minutes when they were hanging out at a park not far from here.”

Lia’s eyes widened, and her tongue darted out over her lips.  I figured I’d probably given her enough details at that point.  She looked over to the dresser where my Beretta sat on top of my shirt.

“With that gun?” she asked quietly.

“Sometimes,” I said.  “Usually with my Barrett—the sniper rifle.”

Lia sat back and pulled her knees to her chest, and she wrapped her arms around them.  Her throat bobbed once, and then she looked up to me.

“Are you going to kill me?  Is that why you brought me here?”

“Fuck, no!”  I stood up from the windowsill and yelled loud enough that she jumped.  “I’m sorry! Shit!…But, no, Lia—no!  I’d never hurt you; I swear.”

Even as the words flowed from my mouth, I wondered if they were true.  How could I guarantee that to her, considering what I’d done in the past?  I wasn’t even sure if I could manage to keep her safe through what was to come.  Even if she decided to get as far away from me as possible, she was likely already in danger.

“But you…you shoot people?  That’s your job?”

“Yeah.”  I nodded.  “I mean, I have to pick the right spot, the right timing and all that, but in the end, I’m not paid for the recon, I’m paid for the hit.”

“You do this for the mafia?  That’s the mob, right?”

“Yeah,” I said, “and yeah, it is.”

“The Chicago mafia?”

I nodded again.

“That’s real?”

A laugh escaped through my nose.

“Yeah, it’s real.  It’s not quite the way it ends up portrayed in the movies but real enough.”

“Who do you…um…” Lia paused a moment, and I saw her throat bob again.  “Who do you kill?”

“Anyone my boss tells me to,” I said.  “Mostly, anyway.  Sometimes there are others.”

“Others?”

“Yeah, like when I need someone else out of the way to get to my target—sometimes I’ll kill them, too.”

“Do you get paid for those as well?”

“No, they aren’t on my roll.”

“Roll?”

“Kill roll,” I told her.  “My list of people who I’m supposed to kill.”

“Your…your to-do list?”

“Something like that,” I laughed.  I had never thought of it like that, but it was as accurate as any other analogy.

She looked away from me, her eyes focused on absolutely nothing interesting across the room, obviously not finding anything humorous in the conversation.  She swallowed and closed her eyes for a moment.

“How many?” she whispered.

“How many are on the list now?”

She shook her head and took in a long breath.

“How many people have you…have you killed?”  Her eyes moved back to mine as she waited for the answer.

It was my turn to look away.  I licked my lips and tried to find words that would make anything any better, but I was way past lying now.  It wouldn’t make sense; she already knew everything.

“I have no idea,” I admitted.

“A lot, though, right?”

“A lot,” I agreed.  I’d never bothered to keep track though I probably could have come up with a relatively precise number if I thought about it long enough.  I didn’t really care to do that and figured even estimating what had to be approaching a hundred people over the last three years of working for Moretti wasn’t going to help my position with Lia now.

“Holy shit.”  Her voice was low as she clasped her hands together.

I took a couple steps toward the bed, and Lia jumped up and moved to press her back to the wall.  Her eyes were wide and distrustful, and the palms of her hands pressed against the drywall.  With my chest tightening around my heart and lungs, I stopped moving.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I reminded her.

“How do I know that?”

I closed my eyes for a moment and was reminded of our night at the cabin when it was clear she was thinking similar thoughts only without any knowledge to back them up.

“If I was going to kill you, you’d be dead,” I reminded her.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t.”

I watched her carefully—the subtle way she kept looking toward the door, the way she was balancing up on the balls of her feet, the positioning of her hips.  Her fear had sent her into complete flight mode.  If I hadn’t been standing between her and the door, she would have bolted.

Inside of myself, I didn’t think it would have felt any different than if someone had reached inside my chest with one of those hand-held mixers running on high power.  Everything inside me was churning painfully, and my muscles were so tight, I could barely breathe.  Someone with logic on their side would have recognized it as the same emotion as Lia’s but with the opposite response; all I could feel was anger.

“Why would I tell you all this shit just to kill you off?  You think I fucking liked talking about this, huh?  You think I wanted to?  I’ve never talked to anyone about any of that shit unless I was under direct fucking orders.  Never.”

I was nearly panting, and there was pressure behind my eyes I was finding difficult to hold back.  I wasn’t even sure what was happening in my head; it all just felt bad.

She’s going to leave.

Lia’s arms were wrapped around her stomach, and she was pushing herself against the wall now—anything to get farther away from me.  Everything inside of me wanted to grab my Beretta and start shooting the shit out of something—anything.  There was some kind of geyser just under my skin, trying to find the weakest point to break through in a gush of steam and boiling rage.

I managed to take in an audible breath, and I tried to let it out slowly.  Lia tensed even more, and I wanted to turn the damn gun on myself for scaring her so much.  It wasn’t what I wanted.  I would have been the first to admit that I didn’t really know exactly what I wanted, but this definitely wasn’t it.

I dropped my ass onto the bed and my head onto the palms of my hands.  I pushed at my eye sockets to try to relieve the pressure there a bit and ignored the fact that my hands ended up a little damp.

Turning my head to the side, I looked over at her.  Lia’s posture had relaxed a little, but she still kept glancing at the door.

“I can’t let you just walk out,” I said.  “I’ll take you somewhere, but I can’t let you go out there on your own.”

“You really are serious about all of this,” Lia said—part statement, part question.

“Yeah, it’s all true.  I don’t have any reason to lie to you about this, do I?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I don’t.”

She nodded, and her eyes moved to stare at me for several silent minutes.

“I need a little time,” she said softly.  “I need to think for a minute.”

Lia moved slowly around the corner of the wall, watching me the entire time, to the bathroom where she shut herself in.  I heard the click of the lock right after the door closed and dropped my head back into my hands.

I’d been wrong.  Telling her everything was a stupid fucking idea.  Not only was she never going to have anything to do with me again, but having knowledge of the few facts I had revealed was enough to get her on someone’s watch list and very possibly just decide she wasn’t worth the risk and take her out.

No, it was too late to avoid that anyway.  She’d been with me enough, had even seen at the prison with me, and was already in that kind of danger.  I’d already fucked her over just by being around her.  If someone picked her up and questioned her yesterday, she wouldn’t have been able to tell them anything, but they wouldn’t have believed her.

I’d fucked this up as much as I possibly could have, and at the end of the day, she was still going to be gone, and except for Odin, I was going to be alone again.  I’d be back to fucking hookers, having no one I could really talk to, and just counting the days until my sleep-deprived state took me back into total meltdown.

Status quo.

It was probably for the best for both of us.

So why didn’t I believe it?

Because it was best for her, not for me, and I’d learned to be a selfish son of a bitch over the years.  If I could think of something to say to her that would convince her to stay with me, accept who I was and what I did and not be afraid, I would use those words in a heartbeat.  As it was, I was only a slight step away from being a big enough bastard to hold her against her will.

Would I really do that?

Fuck.

Yeah, I might.

Though I was both repulsed and intrigued with the idea, I was also trying to figure out how I felt, knowing that I was capable of something like that.  It seemed far worse than just killing someone. Once you’re dead, you’re dead—no pain, no suffering.  Hell, I’d wished for it myself repeatedly.

I knew what being held captive was like, though—I knew how it felt to be so completely within someone else’s control.  I knew exactly what it did to someone when they were imprisoned, and I was considering doing the same thing to her.  I didn’t think I would do it—not because I didn’t want to—I did—but that didn’t mean I wasn’t capable of it.  I clearly was, and now that the thought was in my head, I couldn’t seem to shake it.

Shit!  What if she demands I let her leave, and I can’t do it?

The muscles in my arms and legs were so tight, I was starting to shake a little.  Even though I knew there was air coming into my lungs, it still felt like I wasn’t breathing.  I tried to find another cigarette, but I had already smoked the few I had bought off the guy at the front desk.  I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to shove thoughts of Lia, handcuffed to my bed, out of my mind.

“Evan?”  Lia’s fingers touched my shoulder, and I startled.

I dropped my hands and looked up at her, waiting for the words that were likely to feel like a stake being shoved through my heart.  She didn’t say anything, though.  She just wrapped her arms around my head and pulled me against her body.

I lifted my arms to grasp her waist and pull her closer to me.  My fingers wrapped around her shirt right at the small of her back, and I clutched at the material.  Her warmth was instantly soothing, and a moment later heart rending, because I didn’t know how long it would last.

“Don’t leave,” I heard myself beg.  “Please don’t leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she responded.

My throat seized up, and I couldn’t speak.  I tilted my head up to look into her face and try to figure out if I had heard her right.  If she meant it, I wouldn’t have to test myself.  I wouldn’t find out if I was really willing to hold her captive like that.

“You’re not?” I asked quietly.

She shook her head slowly as she leaned back to look at me, and I tightened my fingers around the fabric of her shirt to keep her close.

“Why not?” I heard myself ask.  I wanted to take back the words immediately.  Asking her to justify why she was staying could very well lead her to change her mind.

“Because you are a mess, and I can’t just leave you like this!” she nearly yelled but then softened her tone.  “I needed to find you for a reason.  I didn’t completely understand it at the time, but now I think I do.  I thought I just needed you, but it seems you need me even more.”

“I do need you,” I said quietly.  “It kinda scares me.”

“Me too,” Lia agreed, “but I can’t just…just condone this, Evan.  I don’t think I’m wired that way.”

I tensed again and waited for her to explain exactly what she meant.

“Can you just quit?” she asked.  “I mean, walk away and never go back?  You said it wasn’t like the movies, but I never really watched those movies.  I don’t know the rules.”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.  “I’ve never thought about it, so I’ve never asked.  I know I can’t leave now, though.”

“Why not?”

“I have…I have a job to do.”

“You mean someone to kill?”

“Not exactly.”

“Quit being so damn cryptic!” Lia snapped as she pushed away from me.  “I certainly hope I’ve heard the worst by now, and being evasive isn’t going to make me feel any better!”

I reached out and pulled her back to me.  She came reluctantly but didn’t actually resist.  I tightened my grip on her, completely afraid to let her go now.  She hadn’t heard the worst, but she’d certainly heard enough.  She knew that whatever she decided to do, I shouldn’t have to lie to her about what I was doing.

It was time to tell her the rest.

“It has to do with why I got released,” I said.  “I made a deal with a couple of federal agents.  One of them was the guy you talked to outside my apartment.  The other was inside talking to me at the same time.”

I kept my grip on her shirt as I looked up at her, and she scrutinized me cautiously as I spoke.

“Most of the organizations in the city deal with the usual: politics, corruption of law enforcement, bribery, marketeering, money laundering, prostitution—all that typical stuff.  There’s enough of that to go around, and they tend to work together pretty well for the common interest as far as the local government and police go.  Outside of that, there are some specialized businesses primarily run by separate families.”

Lia continued to watch me intently.

“I work for Rinaldo Moretti,” I told her.  “His family runs the majority of the casinos and has its hands in strip joints, a lot of weapon sales, cocaine, and the caviar trade.”

“Caviar?” Lia’s brow furrowed.  “That’s not illegal.”

“Well, yeah, actually,” I corrected, “some of it is.  It depends on where it comes from and how you get it.  It’s a business that is heavily regulated—like the sale of ivory or something like that.  Some of it’s legal, but a lot of it isn’t.  It’s actually a bigger business than a lot of the drug trade.”

“Shit,” Lia said.  “I had no idea.”

“Overfishing caused a shortage,” I replied.  “Shortage means higher demand.  Higher demand means there’s room for organized crime to step in and make sure we’re the ones with the best supply when it comes to the kind of shit stupidly rich people will pay for.  It’s like gorilla-hand ashtrays or certain types of cars.  Yeah, you can get them legally, but it’s a pain in the ass.  Sometimes it’s easier to get them illegally.”

“Do they still come with the manufacturer’s warranty?” Lia asked.

I glanced up at her, saw her smirk, and laughed a bit before going on with Mafia 101.

“Gavino Greco’s organization is Rinaldo’s primary competition.  They focus on stolen goods, heroin, and human trafficking.”

“Human trafficking?”

Fuck.  I probably had said too much, especially considering my thoughts of her in chains.

“I don’t really want to go into that,” I admitted.  “It’s as bad as it sounds.  If you really want the details, I’ll tell you, but it’s just going to make you sick to your stomach.”

“I guess I’ll stick with the vague, then.”

“Good call.”  I collected my thoughts.  “So I’ve been working for Moretti and his family since I moved here.  The feds want me to help bring him in, but I can’t do that.  He’s been great to me, and I can’t betray him.”

“Great to you?” Lia said with a snort.  “He made you a killer.”

“No, he didn’t,” I corrected.  I turned my eyes to her in warning.  “I’m not going to hear any shit-talk about him either.  Think what you want of me—I’m responsible for whatever the fuck I do—but don’t say a fucking word against Rinaldo.  Clear?”

Lia stared at me for a long moment before she nodded once.

I was being shitty and I knew it, but I was in a shitty position and sometimes you just have to drop back to what you are most comfortable and familiar with to keep going.  I also had to remember that she wasn’t used to any of this, and me going all mob-threatening on her probably wasn’t going to keep her close to me.  I had to be careful.

“Sorry,” I muttered.  “He’s just…he’s always taken care of me, dealt with my messes when I fucked up, and been more of a father to me than anyone else ever has been, okay?”

“I understand,” Lia replied.  Her fingers traced my arm, causing little goose bumps to form on my skin.  “It’s all right.”

She sat down next to me on the bed, and I turned to look at her.

“You’re really going to stay?”  I didn’t know why I was opening the door for this conversation.  Maybe I just needed the reassurance.

“I told you before,” she said. “I didn’t spend all this time looking for you to just turn around and go home.  I don’t like this at all though, Evan—don’t think for a second that I do.”

“I didn’t think you would.”  I wanted to grab her and kiss her and fuck her senseless again, but I knew she wasn’t going to put up with any of that until she got the rest of her answers.  I just hoped I’d be able to provide them all to her satisfaction.

Living up to what I said, that would be a whole separate challenge.

“I need to understand what happens after,” Lia said.  “What do we do once you’ve…well, once you’ve done whatever it is you need to do?  Explain that first, and then we need to figure out what comes later.”

I rubbed my fingers into my eyes and thought for a minute.

“I half considered just making a run for it,” I told her, “but the more I think about it, the more I know that isn’t going to work.  Ask me how many people tried to run from my boss, and I’ll give you the same number of people I caught on the run.  No one ever got away from me, and I’m the kind of guy they’d send after us.”

“Jesus,” she muttered, “I don’t know how I’m going to deal with this.”

I cringed a bit, closed my eyes, and tried to focus.  When I opened them again, I reached out and took her hand.

“I know this is really fucked up,” I said.  “I know this isn’t what you bargained for when you came to find me, but I’m glad you are here.  I’m glad you’re staying.  I…I…fuck!”

“What is it?”

I let go of her, stood up, and ran my hand over my face and head.  I hadn’t gotten a haircut yet, and the length was starting to annoy me.  Without being neat and orderly, I felt like I was totally off my normally collected game.

“I’m not usually like this!” I bellowed.  “I’m not used to…to…to needing someone else.  It’s always been…just me.”

Lia pushed away from the bed and stood in front of me while I shoved my hands in my pockets and tried not to look embarrassed over my outburst.  Her hands came up and lay gently on the sides of my face before they ran down my shoulders to my chest, and I relaxed at her touch.

“It’s okay to need someone,” she told me.  “Everyone needs someone.”

Her lips brushed mine.

“I never have,” I argued.

“You just didn’t know who you needed yet,” she countered.

She kissed me again but only briefly.  As I collected myself, she put an end to the intimacy and pulled me back to sit on the bed for the rest of the discussion.  I sighed, complied, and started thinking out loud.

“I’ve got to come up with a way of getting Greco to trust me.  He’s got to let me deep into his organization so I can get enough information on him to turn over to Trent.  The thing is, the last time I saw Greco wasn’t the friendliest of encounters.”

“What happened?”

“I held a gun to his head and threatened take him out.  I doubt he’s forgotten.”

“Are you serious?”

“He started it,” I shrugged.  “If it makes you feel any better, there were three guys with guns pointed at me, and I didn’t end up shooting any of them.”

“It really doesn’t,” she said.

“The point is, getting into his org isn’t going to be easy.  I don’t even know where to begin at this point, and I’m going to have to move fast.  Before any of that, though, I need to make sure you’re safe.”

“Why wouldn’t I be safe?” Lia asked.  “I haven’t done anything.  I don’t even know who these people are!”

I looked at the clock and rubbed my hands against my thighs.

“We need to move,” I said.  “It’s checkout time, and I only brought us here to get us out of Trent’s line of sight.  We can’t stay another night.”

“Where are we going?”

I reminded myself that she wasn’t asking me to take her to the airport, but I still decided we weren’t going anywhere near O’Hare.  I didn’t want to be too far from the city—I needed to be able to get to public transportation easily and quickly.

“Another motel,” I said.  “Maybe something up north.  We just need to stay moving for now until I figure out how I’m going to do all this.  We can talk more when we get to another location.”

“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation at all.”  Lia put her head in her hands.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“You’ve said that a lot,” she reminded me.

“I know.”

She went silent, and I went tense.  I waited for her to say something—anything—to give me an idea what she was going to do.  I probably should have reminded her that if she wanted me to get her a ticket back to Phoenix, I would, but I wasn’t going to make that offer again.

“Well, Mom was right.”  Lia sat back and looked at me.  “I had no idea who you really were.”

I looked down at my clenched hand and the veins pulsing in my arm.  Everything about her posture told me she had just changed her mind.  She was going to leave, and I was going to have to figure out some way to accept that and move on.

Or do something far worse.

“Do you like it?” she asked.  She placed her hand on my thigh and started moving it up and down, her touch relaxing the muscles there.

“I like that,” I said, indicating her hand on my leg.

“That’s not what I meant.”  Her hand stopped moving, and she started to pull it away, but I grabbed it and held it in place.  My fingers stroked over hers softly.

“Do I like what, then?”

“Killing people.”

“It’s a job.  I’m good at it.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

I didn’t see any point in lying to her now, so I just spit it out.

“Yeah, sometimes.  Some people deserve it.”

“But not all of them?”

“Everyone’s done something wrong,” I said with a shrug.

“And they deserve to die for it?”

“I don’t really think about it much, you know?”

“No,” Lia said as she raised her eyebrows and looked at me pointedly, “I do not know.”

“People die,” I stated.  “They might get a disease, or get hit by a fucking bus, or get hit by me, but they all die.  Sometimes no one even gives a shit, and the kind of people I kill mostly fall into that category.  I definitely don’t care if they die, so I don’t think about it much.”

Lia was silent for a long moment.  I struggled with wanting to give her a little time to process all the shit I’d thrown at her.  I also needed to deal with my own nervousness at being in the same location as long as we had been.

“What are you thinking?” I finally asked.

“I’m trying to figure out how you can be so nonchalant about it,” Lia said.  “I don’t understand how you can reconcile what you’re doing.”

“Like I said, I don’t think about it.  It’s usually from far away, and I only see my target through the scope.  It’s just like playing a video game.”

“It’s not a game,” she said quietly.

“I know it isn’t.”  I took in a long breath and let it out slowly.  “Really, I swear we can talk more about it later, but we have to move now.”

Lia nodded and silently gathered up her belongings from the bathroom and shoved them all into the overnight bag she’d brought with her the night before.  I asked the motel guy where I could get a cab, and he directed me to a convenience store a few blocks away.  I bought a pack of cigarettes while Lia gave me a bit of a look.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said.

“Don’t give me that shit.”

“In light of everything else, I’ve decided not to complain about your smoking,” Lia informed me.

“I don’t usually do it.”

“You’ve had a cigarette in your hand pretty much the whole time since the last time you made that statement.”

“I’m trying to remember what it’s like.”  I gave her a goofy smile, and she shook her head again.

Lia was quiet while I smoked, glared at the gang-bangers as they went in and out of the store for cheap liquor, and waited for the cab to show up.

“I was thinking I might retire,” I said.

“What does that mean?” Lia asked.

“You know—like you were saying before.  You asked what we were going to do after all this.  When I was in jail, I thought maybe…well, maybe I’d just see if you wanted to...um….”

Shit, I sounded like a fucking idiot.

“I was thinking maybe you and I could leave Chicago, you know—together.  Go someplace where no one is likely to try to track me down.  I have to take care of all this other shit first because Trent will definitely be on my ass until it’s done, but afterwards, we could just leave.  I’ve got plenty of money to get us by for a while.”

“What?  Someplace like that cabin where I first met you?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“And do what?”

I gave her a half smile and a raised eyebrow.

“Alternate between taking you up against a wall and taking you from behind.  We could throw in a few other variations, of course.  Those are just my top picks.”

She didn’t seem amused.

“I’ve missed a whole year of school tracking you down,” she said.  “I still have two years left before I get my degree.”

I was struck again with how little I knew about her.  I hadn’t even been aware she was in school.

“What are you studying?” I asked.

“Nursing,” Lia replied tersely.  “Don’t change the subject.”

There was a sudden burst of a memory from a couple Christmases ago when Rinaldo’s wife got ticked off at him for sneaking cookies from a tray she was preparing.  She had shaken her finger at him as she yelled, and all his attempts at diverting the topic had been unsuccessful.

I smiled.

“Is this funny?” Lia snapped.

“No,” I said, but I couldn’t stop the grin on my face.  “Would you hit me if I said you were beautiful when you’re angry?”

“Maybe.”

“I won’t say it, then.”

“Good call.”

I leaned in to kiss her, and she let me though she didn’t open her mouth or push for more.  I stopped after just a couple of light touches to her lips and then leaned back a little to look at her.

“You wouldn’t have to go to school,” I told her.  “I can take care of you.”

“I want to go to school,” Lia said.

Her tone left no room for discussion even if I was a little inclined to try to persuade her to try the easy life.  She would never have to work as long as she was with me, and the places we were likely to end up weren’t likely to have a lot of universities in the area.

“Can’t we work out the details later?”

“If you are saying that when all is said and done, we’re not going to stay here, and you aren’t going to continue with your current occupation, then yes, the details can wait.”

I nodded, hoping the gesture looked sincere.  I wasn’t completely sure if I could live up to the whole idea—there were too many uncertainties.  I didn’t even know if I’d survive this little endeavor into Greco’s organization, and even if I did, there was no way to know if Rinaldo would just let me walk away afterwards.

Lia didn’t need to know that though.  If she did—if she even suspected it—she might change her mind and walk out.  I still wasn’t sure how politely I was going to respond to that, and I needed to stop it from happening.

“You’re not going to leave?”  I needed the confirmation.  I needed to hear it.

“Do you want me to?” she asked.

“God, no,” I said with a sharp breath.  “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.  I don’t want you to go anywhere.  I want you to stay with me.”

“But after all of this,” Lia said as she waved a hand around in the air, “all this shit with the federal agent and all—after all of that is done, we leave, right?  Just take Odin and head to wherever you want to go.  Then we’ll figure the rest of it out when we get there.”

“Yeah,” I said with a nod as I stared straight into her eyes.  “We’ll leave—just you and me and Odin.”

Nothing was going to stop me from making good on that statement.

Chapter 12—Developing Plan

We spent the next three days just moving around the city.  I hadn’t gotten any grand ideas on how I was supposed to home in on Greco, and I hadn’t heard anything from Trent or Rinaldo.  Of course, I didn’t have a phone anyone could use to reach me, and I’d left at home the new laptop I had bought in the rush, but if either of them knew where I was, they’d definitely find a way to reach me.

So at the very least, I was staying a step ahead of them.  I just wasn’t sure what that was accomplishing besides buying me a little more time.

Make that time with Lia.

As soon as we stopped at each motel where we stayed, I was on her and in her as quickly as possible.  It was like sex with her was centering me—giving me the focus and purpose I hadn’t felt since I was first deployed to the Middle East.  She seemed to either understand how badly I needed it, or maybe she needed it just as much as I did.  Whichever it was, she never complained about anything other than being a little sore.

I bought lube, and she stopped complaining after that.

Without any other brilliant ideas on my part, we ended up returning to my Audi behind the goth-themed nightclub in Lincoln Park and then went back to my apartment.  I knew we couldn’t stay in such an obvious place long, but there were things I needed.  I also wanted to see Odin, so we picked him up at the doggie hotel on the way back to my building.

He was pretty excited to be back and spent about as much time bringing his bone back to Lia to throw for him as he did trying to lick my face and arms.  I sat on the couch and watched her play with him for a few minutes before she decided she had played fetch enough for one night.  Odin curled up in his doggie bed by the door to the balcony and watched us.

“It’s late,” Lia observed.

“You tired?”

“Yeah, I am.”

She looked it, too.  All the running around was already getting to her, and it had only been a few days.  I took her into the bedroom and let her get settled without jumping her bones for once.  She was out almost as soon as she laid her head on the pillow.

While Lia slept in my bed—a sight I found insanely distracting—I started going through all my lists of people in Greco’s organization as well as contacts that might have some other connection to his organization.  I was pretty much coming up with nothing after a couple of hours and was about to throw my laptop across the room when a thought occurred to me.

Nick Wolfe.

Nick might have been Rinaldo’s flesh and blood, but right before I had my little breakdown, he had started seeing a girl.  Her name was Milena, and she was related to Andrey Severinov who was the figurehead in Chicago for a crime group along with Rurik Dytalov. They’d moved from Moscow to Azerbaijan several years ago to take a piece of the caviar trade, but they were small suppliers compared to Moretti’s outfit.  I’d taken out Rurik’s cousin a few months ago when they tried to home in on Rinaldo’s caviar customers, but as far as I knew, Rurik didn’t know I was the one who pulled the trigger.

Milena had a brother, Micah.  We’d met once when he was giving Nick some shit at a bar, and I put myself in the middle of it.  I might have taken him out that night, but Nick didn’t want me to go after him.  Out of respect, I didn’t, but he was still on my kill roll.  I had planned to discuss it with Rinaldo before taking any further action but hadn’t gotten around to it before I went off the deep end.  If I couldn’t get into Greco’s organization directly, maybe I could get in through the Russians.

It was the best option I had at the moment.

I picked up my phone and selected one of the contacts.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, Eddie-boy,” I said, “it’s Arden.”

“Hey, LT,” a sleepy Eddie-boy replied.  “You know it’s three in the morning, right?”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“No you aren’t,” he replied.  “What can I do ya for?”

“Micah Severinov.  I need contact info.”

Eddie-boy, the communications expert deployed with me in Iraq, was my key information guy outside of Rinaldo’s organization.  He had come in handy on several occasions.  He was military-loyal through and through, though he didn’t have much love for the law or the government.  As his former commanding officer, he would have done anything for me.

“In Chicago?”

“Yeah.”

“No problem.”

He called back just a few minutes later with an address and cell phone number, and I wired him some cash.

“Hey, LT—you doin’ all right?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Oh.”  There was a long pause.  “I just heard…well, I heard you had a little trouble.”

“All a misunderstanding,” I told him.  “Now the guys across the street know not to have such a loud fucking garage door.”

Eddie-boy laughed and hung up.

Now I had to figure out how to approach the guy and what to do with Lia while I was taking care of business.  Unlike Odin, I didn’t think she’d be too happy with the idea of going to a boarding facility.

I snickered to myself at the thought.

Still, she needed to be close to me but not too close.  Trent still knew exactly where I was, and I was going to have to change our living space for a lot of reasons.  Rinaldo owned the building I lived in, and once he got wind of what I was doing, the apartment I’d lived in for the last couple of years was going to become a warzone.

I switched from looking at people’s information to looking at apartments for rent.  There were actually a few decent options with nice, open balconies with good, tactical views of the surrounding area.  I also checked into those that would have a good view for Lia because she wasn’t going to be able to go out much—too dangerous.  I wrote down a couple addresses to check out the next day.

Odin snuffed and sneezed all over my boot then looked up at me expectantly.  As soon as I started going toward the leash, he started running around in a circle by the door.  I paused for a minute, not sure if leaving Lia asleep and alone was the best of ideas, but Odin hadn’t been out for a while, and I didn’t want to wake her.  I’d only be in the park behind the building.

I snapped the leash onto Odin’s collar and quietly closed the door.  I made sure it was bolted before heading to the elevator and down to Lake Shore East Park.

As soon as I walked into the green area, I glanced around a little to see if anyone was nearby.  It was the middle of the night and no one was out, but I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone would recognize me as the guy who shot up the place a month ago if they did see me.  There weren’t any other people or dogs in the dog run, so at least I wasn’t going to meet up with the woman with the terrier I tried to shoot.

I took off Odin’s leash and watched him run around, sniff, and water the trees.  He took a big dump right in the middle of the place, which I cleaned up with one of the plastic baggies from a dispenser on the fence before I sat back on the bench and lit a cigarette.  I cradled the glowing tip against my palm to keep it less visible.

Being in the same area where I’d lost my shit not all that long ago felt odd, to say the least.  My nerves were frayed, and I kept glancing all around me like I was waiting for enemies to pop out from behind one of the bushes and start firing.  It was similar to the way I felt before the doctors at the military hospital put me on medication, and I didn’t like it at all.

I pulled my gun out of my shoulder holster and checked that there was a bullet in the firing chamber before putting it back.

“Whassup, brotha?” a familiar voice called out.  “When did you start smokin’ again?”

I didn’t startle, but I was no less caught off guard as Jonathan Ferris walked around the edge of the fence and opened the dual gate of the dog park.  He flipped his hair out of his eyes as he walked over and sat down next to me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Your phone ain’t workin’,” Jonathan responded.

“I think the cops still have it,” I replied.  “Took my Barrett, too.”

“That sucks.”

I looked down toward the ground and took another drag of my cigarette.  It occurred to me that the action made me look nervous, and I started to straighten up and get myself in check but changed my mind.  It would be better at this point to be considered nervous in front of Jonathan, considering his source of income was the same as mine.

Jonathan was Rinaldo Moretti’s chief information man.  He had been your typical bored and brilliant teen with a propensity for hacking into various computer systems around the world just to show that it could be done.  Now he did the same for our boss, either to find out the things Rinaldo wanted to know, break into banking systems to help out with a little money laundering, or sometimes just to use his phone to get a seat at a busy restaurant without having to wait.

He was also about the only person in the world I would consider a friend.

Deceiving him wasn’t an easy thing to do, but I was going to have to try.  Jonathan was a perceptive guy though most people’s first impressions dismissed him as a backwoods hick.  He sounded like one, but behind the thick accent was an exceptional mind.  I needed him to believe I was still pretty much off my game so he could report the same back to Rinaldo.

I kept my eyes down, blinked a few times, and took another drag without saying a word.

“I didn’t really think I’d find ya here,” Jonathan said.  “I figgered you’d go back to your apartment, but not come out here.”

I moved my head slowly to look up at him.

“Don’t have much of anyplace else to go,” I commented quietly before looking back to my shoes.

“How ya feelin’?”

I thought about it and decided to answer him honestly.

“Like I’m waiting to start seeing shit again,” I said.  “I’ll know it isn’t real, but I’m still waiting to see it, you know?”

Jonathan nodded.  He’d been with me at the shooting range once when I started seeing images of insurgents coming out from behind the targets.  I’d just stopped taking the meds the military doctors had given me, and I wasn’t completely prepared for the consequences.

“Did you see shit out here?” he asked as he nodded his head around the park.  “I mean, when you decided to blow the place up?”

“Not really,” I said.  “I was hearing a lot of stuff, and that fucking garage door kept going off and sounding like a perimeter alarm.  There was already so much other shit in my head.  I hadn’t slept, and I just…I dunno.”

“Cracked.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“It’s all right, brotha,” he assured me.  “Shit happens.  Rinaldo understands, even if he is kinda being a dick about you.”

“How so?” I asked.  I looked up at him because I had no idea what he was talking about.

Jonathan shrugged and shifted his position on the bench to bring one foot up on the seat.  He took out another smoke, patted Odin’s head as he came by, and leaned back.

“He’s pissed you didn’t come to him first,” Jonathan said.  “I told him it don’t work like that, but ya know—he feels bad he didn’t see it was coming that quick.”

“Feels bad?” I laughed.

“He does,” Jonathan said with a nod.  “He’d take you over Nick right now, that’s for sure, with him datin’ that Russian bitch.”

I wasn’t expecting him to bring up Nick, and since I had just been thinking about him and his girlfriend’s connection to the Russians associated with Greco, I took the opportunity to plant a little more information in Jonathan’s head, assuming he’d take it back to Rinaldo.

“Yeah, I hadn’t gotten around to telling him about that night at Sweetwater.  I could’ve taken her brother out then, but Nick asked me not to.  He was already on my list, and I should have done it.  The Russians are gaining too much control around here.”

“True dat, but you had other shit on your mind.”

“Yeah, I did.”

We sat in silence for a minute while Jonathan finished his smoke, and I lit another one.

“You sure did leave a disaster at the office,” he said quietly.

I didn’t have to ask what he meant.  Killing Terry and Bridgett in the storage room at the bottom of Rinaldo’s office wasn’t so bad, but leaving the bodies behind instead of cleaning up my mess—that was a fairly serious faux pas.

“Is that new girl ya got a hooker, too?”

I flinched and turned to glare at him.

“She’s not a fucking hooker,” I growled.

“Easy.”  Jonathan put his hands up in the air in a surrender gesture.  “Just askin’.”

“Well, she ain’t.”  Fuck, I was already picking up that stupid, contagious accent of his again.

I knew he was just posing the question, but the idea that anyone would think of Lia in such a way pissed me off.  I went back to my smoke and hoped he would go away soon, but of course, he didn’t.

“You gonna treat this one better than the last one?”

“Fuck you!” I snapped as I stood up.  He stood as well, and towered over my six-foot-two frame by a couple of inches.  “She was feeding information to Greco!”

“Yeah, I ain’t talkin’ about takin’ her out—that needed to happen.  Kinda surprised you did it yourself, but it still had to happen.  I just meant in general.  You treated her like shit and then took her around so everyone knew she was with ya.  Might as well have just painted her with a fuckin’ bull’s-eye in case Terry didn’t get the hint.”

I was fuming, but where other people would have cowered under my anger, Jonathan stood his ground.  I knew why, too—he was right, and he had no doubt about it.  He must have also assumed it wasn’t a death-warrant kind of remark because he had to have known I’d be packing.

“She was a fucking hooker,” I reminded him.  “It wasn’t a goddamned relationship.”

I chose my words intentionally—Jonathan hated it when people broke that particular commandment.  He didn’t give a shit about most of the rest of them, but that one was a sore spot.  I didn’t know why, but saying “goddamn” definitely pissed him off.

It did earn me a nasty glare, but he didn’t say anything about it—he just went right back to me and my issues.

“So the new, non-hooker—what’s that?”

“Fuck off,” I grumbled as I sat back down.

“Seriously, man,” Jonathan said as his voice softened, “you were locked up.  Where’d she come from?”

“Arizona,” I mumbled without thinking.  I should have realized someone as perceptive as Jonathan would put it together.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed.  “She’s the pussy you got while you were out in the middle of nowhere?  What’d she do?  Track ya down?”

I closed my eyes and silently berated myself for giving away too much.  This wasn’t information I wanted him to take back to our boss, and I had to try to play it down as much as I could.  If I blew it off too much, he’d know I was hiding something.

“Something like that,” I said.

Jonathan let out an artillery-burst-like laugh.

“That’s custom!”

I rolled my eyes.

“Damn, bro.”  He whistled and leaned back against the bench again.  “So what are you gonna do with her?”

“I dunno yet.”

“Well, good luck with that shit.”

Odin lumbered by, and I attached his leash again.  I’d been out a lot longer than I had intended to be, and Lia was still up there on her own.  I didn’t want her waking up and freaking out when she figured out I wasn’t in the apartment.

Jonathan stood up as I did.

“So, you gonna take some time off?” he asked.  “Fuck around and git yer shit together before comin’ back to work?”

I hadn’t thought about it, but it was as good a cover as anything else I had at the moment.

“Yeah, I am,” I said.  “I dunno how long, but a while.  I just need to get my head back on straight, ya know?”

“I hear ya, brotha.”

We parted without goodbyes, and I loaded Odin back into the elevator.  On the way up, it seemed to take a much longer time than usual, which wasn’t helped by someone pressing a lot of the buttons on various floors to make the elevator stop.  There was never anyone there, but the elevator kept pausing, opening the door, and then closing again before it would move on.

As it continued, I could feel my tension growing.  I tapped my fingers against my thigh, stepped back and forth between my feet, and glanced at my own reflection in the mirrored back wall of the elevator.

I hadn’t told Lia I was taking Odin outside.  She’d been asleep, and I hadn’t wanted to bother her.  Now I was wondering how good an idea it was to leave her lying there, unprotected, while I was outside.

Was Trent still watching the place?  Probably.  Would he try to get to her, talk to her, or worse?  I didn’t know, but I wouldn’t put it past him.  From what Lia had described to me before, the conversation Johnson tried to have with her was more of a stalling technique than actually wanting anything from her.  I was still incredibly agitated by it, though.

When I finally got to my floor, I was as wound up as I could be.  I tried to take a couple of calming breaths as I stepped out, but it wasn’t helping.  When I moved into the hallway, I startled as my peripheral vision caught movement to my right—the opposite way of my door.  I looked quickly, and my hand went instinctively to the gun in its shoulder holster.

It was a guy—a kid.  He was maybe fifteen or so and just standing there, looking at me.  His face was dirty, and his white clothes were covered in sand.  He was holding his arms out at an awkward position, and I knew there was something under his shirt—something wrapped around his torso.

The kid was fucking booby-trapped.

I pulled out my Beretta, flicked off the safety, and aimed.

There was nothing there.

I rubbed my eyes, looked again, but there was still nothing.

“Shit,” I whispered into the corridor.

Odin snuffed at my shoe and then looked up at me expectantly.  I was breathing quickly, and my heart was pounding.  I shoved my gun back under my jacket and shook my head to clear it before walking back to my apartment and unlocking the door.

All was quiet inside, which just made me more nervous.  I dropped the end of the leash without unlatching it from Odin’s collar and rushed into the bedroom to find Lia.

I had to wait for my eyes to adjust to the dark and started to panic when I couldn’t see anyone on the bed.  I moved closer and could finally see the lump in the bed that was her sleeping form.  Taking a few quiet steps, I made sure I could hear her breathing softly, let out my own breath, and rubbed at my eyes.

Still a fucking nutcase.

Fabulous.

Back out in the living room, I released Odin from his leash and made sure he had some water.  I checked my laptop and found one more apartment to investigate before deciding I really did need to get some sleep.  Quietly moving back into the bedroom, I ditched all my clothes in the hamper, placed my Beretta on the nightstand, and slipped underneath the sheets.

Lia was warm against my naked skin, and I wrapped one arm across her stomach and the other I snaked underneath her pillow so I could pull her against me.  She made a little sighing sound in her sleep as she snuggled against me.

Nothing was wrong, and nothing had happened to her in my absence, but I was going to have to be more cautious.  I couldn’t just leave her on her own now.  Like Jonathan had said about Bridgett, and like Rinaldo had once told me about women in general—having one around was like screaming to the underground crime world “I’m vulnerable!”  I had to protect her.

Breathing deeply to cover myself in her scent, I lay my head just over hers on the pillow and tried to make sure I was touching her as much as possible without actually waking her up.  My arms around her tightened slightly, and everything seemed all right again.

She would keep me sane, and I would keep her safe.

* * *

“Neutral ground.”

Micah Severinov was hesitant to talk to me, to say the least, and with good reason.  He knew exactly who I was though we had only been in the same room at the same time on one occasion.

“You can choose the place,” I told him.  “Well, within reason.  Anywhere public is fine.  I told you, I’m not looking for a confrontation—I just want to talk a bit.”

He chose a place called Quay, right off East Illinois near the heart of Chicago’s Magnificent Mile with a decent view of Navy Pier and the lake.  The front part of the place looked like a regular restaurant, but in the back was a posh lounge area.  The front part of it was definitely the kind of place that attracted tourists, but the back was nearly empty, quiet, and suited our purposes perfectly.

I decided to dress the gangster role and decked myself out in a dark pinstriped suit, red shirt, and black tie.  There was little more intimidating than a buffed-up guy in an expensive suit.  As long as the place he chose wasn’t a gay bar, no one would fuck with me if I was dressed like I owned the neighborhood.  If it was a gay bar, I’d get mauled within a minute.

It wasn’t.

There was a collection of cushy couches and chairs arranged in the corner by the windows looking toward the lake, which is where I saw Micah sipping dark liquor from a glass.  He was sitting at the table farthest away from any other patrons.  As I walked in, I observed the significant exchange of looks between Micah and the bartender but saw only caution and ass-covering in it, nothing malicious.  Nervousness, yes, but I didn’t get the impression I was going to end up with a bullet in my back.

Not yet, anyway.

I moved over to Micah without hesitation and took the seat with my back to the windows and at a slight angle next to him.  It was a vulnerable spot, and I chose it on purpose to show him I didn’t give a fuck.  If he had someone positioned outside to kill me, it could have happened from any angle.  It would have been noisy though.  The tourists out front would notice.

Micah tossed dark blond hair off his forehead with a flick of his fingers as he leaned back in the seat and placed his hands out of sight in his jacket pockets.  I knew he had a gun in there just as I presumed he knew I would have one on me.

Perfectly predictable.

“You gonna play nice?” I asked pointedly.  I let my eyes drop to his right jacket pocket where I knew the gun would be.  He’d been drinking with his right hand, so his gun would be in his right pocket.

“Precautions only,” he replied.

I leaned back casually in the chair, crossed one leg over the other, lit up a smoke, and kept my hands in plain view as I puffed on it.

“There’s no smoking in here,” the bartender called over.

“Really?”  I looked over at him.  “Looks like there is.”

I turned back to Micah, who had the hint of a smile on his face.

“You’re kind of a dick, aren’t you?” he remarked.

“Sometimes.”  I inhaled again and blew smoke off to the side.  “You ready to hear me out?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

I glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to us any longer and then lowered my voice as I leaned into the table.

“I just got out of MCC,” I said.  I looked down at the cigarette between my fingers and carefully tucked the lit end against my palm.  I could feel the warmth, but it wasn’t close enough to burn.  I took another hit off of it.

“Yeah, I heard.  You blew up a park.”

I waved the hand holding the cigarette around dismissively.

“All a misunderstanding.  Parking garage doors shouldn’t be noise violations.  I just showed them the error or their ways.”

“Heh!  Yeah, right.  You made a fucking public spectacle.”

I tried to appear somewhat contrite.

“Well, and that’s the problem now,” I said.  “That’s how Moretti sees it too.  He’s ticked off, frankly, and wouldn’t even fucking do anything to get me out—just let me rot in there for days.  I’m sick of his shit, and I’m on the hunt for new employment.”

Micah laughed.

“Am I supposed to believe that shit?” he asked.  “From what I hear, you’ve been tight in his org since you came to town.”

“I’m tight with a fucking payout,” I corrected.  “He paid the best because he knew he had the best.  That’s where my loyalty resides—with cash in my fucking pocket for a job well done.”

“And now, what?” he asked as he leaned back against the cushion behind him.  It started to slide a little, and he had to lean forward before he fell over.  “Am I supposed to offer you a contract with my organization?”

“Fuck your piss-ant little Azerbaijan outfit,” I snarled.  “You can’t fucking afford me.  You might think your family is hot shit in the eastern block, but you’re nothing around here.  However, Gavino Greco has the means to pay me what I’m worth.”

His eyes narrowed, and I hoped I hadn’t taken it too far.  I needed him to think I didn’t give a shit about him—only Greco—or I wasn’t going to be able to pull it off.  If I came across as too nice and compliant, he’d know something was up.

“So talk to him,” Micah snapped back.  “What the fuck do you want with me?”

“Well, that’s exactly where you come in,” I informed him.  I inhaled on the cigarette again, watching the red glow warm the center of my palm.  “I need you to arrange a meeting.  Neutral ground—like this place.”

“Why would I do that for you?”

“Well, ultimately I would say it’s in your best interest.”  I sat back and tossed the cigarette onto the nicely polished hardwood floor before stomping it out with my boot.  “If I keep working for Moretti, you’re going to move to the top of my list, especially considering your sister is banging his son.  He’s not too thrilled with that, you know.”

Micah glared.

“He’ll probably add her to my roll as well,” I added.  “Considering I killed off his secondary cleaner, I’d be the only one given the job.  Without me, he’s a little paralyzed right now.  If you don’t want to play nice, though, that’s okay.  I’ll just do a couple more jobs for Moretti before I leave town.”

“You’ve made your point,” he snarled.

“Glad to hear you can be reasoned with,” I said with a smile.  “I’ll be waiting for your call.”

I wrote my phone number on a napkin and tossed it to him before I stood up and left the bar.  I took a deep breath of summer air as I walked back into the street and headed to the nearest bus stop.

Nothing could have made that go any smoother.

Chapter 13—Tentative Agreement

Though I was quite sure Micah Severinov went straight to Greco with my offer, he took his sweet time getting back to me.  It took several days for me to receive his phone call, but I had expected the delay tactics and chose to spend the time finding a new apartment.

I found the perfect one just a few blocks away from the Loop near the Green Line, which gave me easy access back to downtown.  It was a smaller place than my old one, and with two people and a big dog, it seemed a little cramped to me, but still perfect for what we needed.  Lia wasn’t complaining—she thought the place was extravagant.  It was much bigger than the place she had been in and had a nice pool and a balcony with a good view of the area around us.  There was green space for Odin’s quick trips outside and a nice dog park a couple blocks away.

We moved in at night and had everything brought over within a couple of days.  Lia hated the whole living-out-of-boxes thing and worked hard to get the essentials unpacked as quickly as possible.  There was still a bunch of shit back at my place—I didn’t want it to look abandoned—but all of her stuff fit in the back of my car.

She didn’t have much.

“I don’t need anything,” Lia insisted.

“Yeah, fine,” I argued, “but what do you want?”

“Nothing.”

Frustrating fucking woman.  Why was it that on the rare occasion I did feel like buying shit for a chick, she didn’t want anything?

“I can just go out and get you stuff without you looking at it first,” I threatened.

“You said you didn’t want me out and about until you ‘took care of business,’” she reminded me.  “Besides, I’ve spent all afternoon moving shit all around and finding a place for it—I’m not up for a bunch of shopping on top of it all.”

“There’s always online shopping,” I countered.  “You don’t even have enough clothes to last you a week.”

“That’s why we got a place with a washer-dryer.”

“Bullshit.”

I pulled out my laptop and threatened to buy one of everything at Macys-dot-com until Lia finally gave up and sat down with me.  I pulled her onto my lap and kissed at her neck while she picked out a few things from a cheaper website.  She argued some more when I insisted on buying matching jewelry for the clothes she ordered, saying she only ever wore the necklace made from the quarter she’d once bounced off my ass.  I used my mouth and hands to persuade her until she finally relented.

Just to make a point, I paid extra for next-day shipping.

Lia turned around and straddled me.  Her lips met mine, and I grabbed her ass to hold her against my cock as she kissed me in thanks.  My hands wandered under her shirt, which quickly left her body and dropped to the floor along with her bra.  My lips covered her nipples one after the other, and I pushed her skirt up her thighs so I could grab the edge of her panties.

“You didn’t order any more underwear for me,” Lia said.  “If you keep tearing them off, I’m going to run out!”

Lia giggled as I held her up with one arm and unfastened my jeans with the opposite hand.  A moment later, I shoved her skirt up around her waist, pulled her panties to one side, and listened to her cry out as I impaled her with my cock.  I held her against me for a moment, then grabbed hold of her ass and moved her up and down over my shaft.

“You feel so fucking good,” I growled as I nipped at the skin of her shoulder.

Lia’s arms went around my neck, and she held on as I pulled her down onto me and pushed up with my hips.  I looked down to where we were connected and watched my cock moving in and out of her.

“Watch,” I told her.  “Watch me fuck you.”

Her eyes moved down, and her mouth hung open slightly as she panted hot breath across my face.  Her pupils dilated as she watched us move together, and her breathing increased until she was nearly gasping.

“You like that?  You like watching my cock in you?”

“Shit!  Evan!”

“Come on me,” I commanded.  “I want to feel you coming all over my cock.”

“Almost…” she panted as she set a slightly faster pace.

I drove into her again and again, grasping her ass in both hands as I pulled her against me until I felt her muscles clenching down, and she cried out.  I kept up the tempo as she moaned and nearly collapsed against my chest.

“Fuck, yes!”  I wrapped an arm around her waist as I brought her down one last time and poured semen deep inside of her.

“Jesus,” she muttered against my shoulder.

I laughed softly and kissed the top of her head, content to hold her there as long as she was willing to stay right where she was.  It didn’t matter that the chair was digging into my ass uncomfortably—the rest of me felt too good to care.

I listened to her breathing slow and become steady.  Her arms slacked slightly, and I realized she had fallen asleep on me.  After unpacking shit, forced internet shopping, and a good, fierce fucking, she was completely worn out.

Cradling her head against my shoulder, I inhaled the scent of her hair and felt myself smile.

* * *

Gavino Greco wanted to meet me back at Quay, and it occurred to me I needed to know a bit more about the owners, bartender, and clientele, but it would have to wait for another time.  When Micah called me back, they wanted to meet immediately.

Not one to be stupid, I brought both my Beretta in its shoulder holster and a blade, which fit nicely into my boot.  As I entered the bar, I saw Gavino Greco, Craig Flannigan, who appeared to be acting as his bodyguard these days, Micah, and Micah’s uncle, Andrey Severinov.

Greco sat in the lounge area where Micah had been when we met previously with Andrey sitting next to him.  Craig was standing to Greco’s right, and Micah took up a similar position on Andrey’s left.  I evaluated each of them carefully as I approached the table.

Greco was wearing an expensive Italian suit not too different from the one I was wearing.  He sat back in the booth too casually, making it look forced, which it probably was.  He was uncomfortable with the situation, and his cheek twitched slightly, showing me his nervousness.

Craig Flannigan had shaved off the thick, red beard he usually had, and his hair had been cut shorter than it was when I had seen him last.  He stood up straight to show off his height and had his feet positioned farther apart than they needed to be.  He reminded me of a cat trying to make itself look bigger and more ferocious than it actually was.  Still, there was a clear outline of a gun under his jacket, and he wasn’t trying to hide it.  He wasn’t someone to underestimate though he wasn’t a bright guy at all.  We’d been in close quarters before, and I’d gotten the better of him.  The glare in his eyes told me he hadn’t forgotten.

Andrey Severinov was lanky and blond, much like his younger nephew.  I hadn’t met him before, but I’d seen plenty of pictures of him.  Of the group, he was the most difficult to read, his face calm and serene.  Nothing in his posture indicated he was concerned about anything.

Micah was just grinning, but whether that was because he was getting in good with the bosses by bringing me to them for business endeavors or because they planned on killing me right here and now, I didn’t know.

I reached the table and looked directly into the face of Gavino Greco.  I held out my hand, which he took slowly.

“A pleasure to meet with you under amenable circumstances, sir,” I said.

“Are they?” he asked cautiously as we shook hands.

“That’s my intent, sir.”

He raised his eyebrows at me and then glanced to Andrey.

“I don’t believe you’ve met,” he said.  “Andrey Severinov, Evan Arden.”

“Good to finally meet you in person, sir.”  I shook his hand as well.

“I know you by reputation,” Andrey said.  He had a slight Russian accent that was not shared by his nephew.  “I have to admit to being a little surprised in the way that we are meeting.”

“Things change,” I said simply.  I nodded at both Craig and Micah and then took my seat across from the two men in charge.

“We shall see,” Andrey responded curtly.

“Ultimately, Mister Arden, I don’t trust you.”  Greco leaned back and put his beefy arms up to lace his hands behind his head.  I wanted to tie them back there and maybe knock him to the ground head first before putting a bullet in his brain, but I had to keep up pretenses.

“I can understand that, sir,” I replied.  “We haven’t exactly been operating on the same side in the past.  I can assure you, though, my loyalties simply come with a price tag associated with them.”

“You saying that Moretti doesn’t pay you enough anymore?”

It wasn’t an unexpected question, but I paused long enough to make him believe I had to think about it.

“My loyalty can be bought,” I said sternly.  “My disloyalty, however—that gets earned.”

“And how exactly did this occur?” Greco wanted to know.

“I expect my employer to have my back if I end up in the slammer,” I said succinctly.  “He didn’t.  I’m done with him.”

“That’s it?”

“You don’t think that’s enough?”  My tone was daring but only slightly.  I narrowed my eyes to show my anger over the situation, and Greco seemed to buy into it.

“So now you are looking for other employment,” Gavino stated.

“From someone with the means to pay me, yes, sir,” I confirmed.

Gavino nodded his head slowly and then glanced at Andrey, who also nodded.

“What do you say to a trial run?” Greco suggested.

“Tell me what you have in mind.”  I leaned back in my seat and took out a cigarette.  Both Gavino and Andrey watched as I lit it and dropped the lighter back into my pocket.  I looked back to Gavino and waited for him to explain.

“There is a man—a nuisance, shall we say?—who I would like to see out of my hair.”

“Name him.”  I made sure I didn’t change my expression at all, though I had no idea what name he might pull out of his ass and demand I kill as a way of proving I’d work for him.  It could be anyone.

“Lenny Yates.”

I knew the guy.  He wasn’t all that high up in Rinaldo’s organization, and if I was going to be completely honest, I didn’t mind doing the hit, not that he was an asshole or anything, but because he wasn’t very important to the organization as a whole.  He was more of a gofer than anything, which is why Greco had so much information on him in the first place.  He was put out there to be an easier target than those who might actually be missed—a patsy to take the brunt of the violence directed toward the group if the time ever came.

Looked like the time had come.

“Consider it done,” I replied.  I took a long drag off my cigarette and blew smoke up into the air.  “You want his actual head delivered to you, or will a photo suffice?”

“You don’t want to know why I want him out of the way?”

“If you care to say,” I replied, “but it doesn’t make any difference to me.  That’s how I operate—I don’t need justification for what I do—just a name.  You want it done, so I’ll do it.  I’m assuming you’re going to refuse to pay me once it’s done, so let’s get all the bullshit out of the way up front, all right?”

Greco smirked.

“The first one’s a freebie,” I stated.  “I show off my skills, which you already know about anyway, as well as my intentions.  I’ll take him out, and I won’t even use a sniper rifle so it won’t be obvious that it’s me—not until I’m on your payroll officially.  After that, it will be your call.”

Greco raised an eyebrow and gave a slight nod.  It sounded completely reasonable, and he didn’t have to know that my Barrett was still in the hands of the cops.

“After that, you pay me my going rate—fifty G’s per, seventy-five if I need to take care of it out of town.”

“That’s pretty steep,” Greco said, his grin becoming somewhat incredulous.

“It’s my rate,” I said definitively.  “I’m flexible when we’re talking about a quick, easy hit, like you telling me to kill the dude in your office as I’m standing there, and he’s being an asshole.  I’m already there; he’s there; no recon work for me.  Bang!  It’s done.  You’d get a discount for that one.”

“I’d pay to see that,” Micah snickered.

Andrey glanced over his shoulder, silencing the younger man.

“You’d probably be the one with the barrel end pointed at him,” Greco remarked as he also looked pointedly at Micah.  He turned back to me.  “That’s still a steep rate, and it’s not like you are all that careful about who sees you.”

“Consider it added insurance,” I told him.  “If I’m seen, it just means I get the heat, not you.”

“That’s how you see it, huh?”

“Pretty much.”  I watched Greco as he considered what I was saying and found him lacking.  I wasn’t even sure he was actually thinking about anything but just trying to give the impression that he was.  The more I talked to him, the less impressed I was.

I also knew better than to underestimate him.  Even stupid people can surprise you, and being surprised usually meant death.

Or worse.

“You do this for me,” Greco said.  “You take out this man, and we’ll talk afterwards.”

I nodded slowly.

“There are just a couple of things I’ll need up front,” I informed him.  I palmed the tip of my cigarette and took another pull off of it.  The smoke trailed up between my fingers.

Greco raised an eyebrow, and Micah folded his arms across his chest.

“Told you,” the Russian muttered.

“Keep your trap shut,” Greco ordered.  “What is it you think you need from me?”

I pulled a small piece of paper out of my pocket, the motion setting both Micah and Flannigan reaching for their guns, and slid it across the low table.  Greco reached out and spun the paper around so he could read it.

“Weapons, a base of operations, and ten Gs,” he muttered.  “Find your own damn weapons—you have the contacts.”

“Contacts under the employ of Moretti,” I said.  “Do you want them so easily traced back to me?  I told you I wouldn’t be sniping, so I’ll need something a little different.”

He huffed through his nose.

“What kind of base of operations?” Greco asked.

“Nothing big or fancy,” I clarified.  “Someplace on the border of your territory and Moretti’s.  Somewhere right around here would be fine—I need to be able to work from a place near downtown.  Moretti owns my apartment—I can’t use that place and consider it secure.”

He didn’t like it, which was obvious, but he also couldn’t deny the logic of either of the first two requests.

Greco glared, turned the paper toward his guard, and looked up at him as he tapped the list of rifles and handguns I required.  The guard nodded.

“Not a problem,” he said.

“And a secure location?”  I asked.

Greco looked over to Severinov, who also nodded.

“We can provide,” he stated, “but I don’t think we should trust him.  I want to know more about why he wishes to work with us.”

“I don’t give a shit about working with you,” I corrected.  “Like I told your nephew—you mean nothing to me.”

I teetered on being too disrespectful, but I had to give the impression I was only going to lower myself so far.

“You’re insulting!” the Russian snapped back.

“You’re nothing,” I replied coldly.  I sat up in the chair and leaned forward, looking straight at Greco.  “Look—I can either do this here and be an asset for your organization, or I can move my ass to New York and provide my services to another outfit.”

“Why don’t you just move to New York?” Greco asked.  “It seems it would be safer for you.”

“Because I like Chicago,” I replied.  I leaned back again and watched him, waiting for an answer.  “The traffic in New York sucks.”

Greco took in a couple long breaths, looked to Andrey, and then looked at his fingernails, all in a lame ruse to give the impression he hadn’t already decided, but eventually bobbed his head in agreement.

“You will get your space and your guns,” Greco said, “but no money from me up front.  You’ll get your ten grand after the job is done.”

I snorted through my nose.  The only reason I had put the cash on the list was to give him something to deny me.

“Sure I will,” I mumbled.  I kept my cigarette cupped against my hand as I took a long drag.

“Why do you hold it like that?” Micah piped up as he nodded toward my cigarette.

I looked him in the eye.

“Snipers look for the light,” I told him.  “Even without night vision, it’s clearly visible with a scope from a mile away.  Makes you an easy target if they can see the tip—just aim for the light.”

His eyes narrowed at me a bit.

“Are we finished here?” Greco asked, ignoring Micah’s interruption.

“Yep.”  I took a final drag of my smoke and stubbed it out on the table.  “It’s a deal.  My number’s on the back of the paper.  Call me when you have my shit.”

I stood and turned my back to them.  It was a bold move, and I meant it to look as such.  Craig could have easily pegged me in the back if he wanted to, but I was fairly certain Gavino Greco was already seeing me for the asset I was.

There was no shot as I walked through the door and let it slam behind me.

* * *

It took less than twelve hours for Gavino to deliver, including a little room in a hotel a few blocks away from Quay, up near the top floor with easy access to the stairs and roof.  Inside the room were the assault rifle I had requested, a Glock, a SIG, and a couple other rifles and handguns.  I’d only really cared about the AR and the SIG—the other weapons were extras in case Greco decided to play hardball about my requests.

I checked over the weapons, made sure they hadn’t been tampered with or anything, and then turned to Gavino and Craig.  Andrey hadn’t joined them for this little exchange, and Micah had been stationed outside the door, but he was still listening intently.

“It’ll be done,” I informed him.

“When?” he asked.

“You haven’t actually paid me for this,” I reminded him, “so it’ll be done when I feel like it.”

I was testing the waters, no doubt.  I needed to know exactly how far I could go—how far I could push—and still have him agreeable.  He narrowed his eyes, and Craig crossed his arms as I made a bit of a display to show my annoyance.

“A few days,” I told him.  “No more than that.”

I actually planned to have it done within a few hours, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Good.”

“You never told me if you wanted his actual head or not,” I reminded him.  “I usually go with photos because my carving skills are a little subpar.  I tend to make a mess, but it’s your choice.”

Gavino took a slight step back.

“Pictures are fine,” he said.

I held in a laugh as I shooed them all out of the room.  From the window, I watched them cross the street and head back to the bar.  I shoved the AR and the SIG into a duffel bag before I left the room, locking it behind me.  I used the roof access to check out the scene from there, was pretty happy with the view, and then made my way down and out the back of the building where Gavino and his crew would have less of a chance of seeing me leave.

I’d been gone too long and wanted to check on Lia as quickly as I could.

I walked, took a bus, got on the L for a few stops, and then took a bus back to the Loop.  I loved riding on Chicago’s mass transit systems anyway, so covering my routes wasn’t a chore for me usually.  This time, though, when I had Lia waiting for me, I had to force myself to make sure I wasn’t being followed.  The desire to both keep her safe and get back to her as quickly as I could was in conflict.

I traveled up north, then back down south, and finally got on a bus that would take me to the new apartment.  It was rush hour, and the bus was overcrowded, so I stood and hung onto one of the bars for a while until there was a free seat.  More people packed on, and I tried to stop the claustrophobia from getting to me.

It was a bit too much like the bus I rode just after killing Terry and Bridgett, and I was tense and agitated as people crowded around me.  At that time, I had been without sleep for days and had nearly pulled out my gun and started shooting.  I wasn’t in the same state this time, but I was still feeling quite off.

I tried looking out the window for a while in hopes that the open space outside would help.  It did—for a while.

Then I saw him.

It was the same kid in the same sand-covered clothes.  He was standing on the corner of the street right by the bus stop with his arms out at his sides.  There was something in his hand, and I was fairly sure it was a detonator wired to the explosives underneath his shirt.

I pushed my way off the bus and ran to the corner, but he was gone.

With my fingers curled into fists, I looked up and down the street to see if I could locate him again, but there was no sign of him.

“That’s because he isn’t fucking there.”

I cringed at the sound of my own voice directed at nothing and no one but myself.  I squeezed my eyes shut, opened them, and took one last look around before boarding the next bus.

When I finally arrived at the apartment, Lia was in the kitchen, putting things away from one of the last of the boxes, and Odin was snuffling around in the corners, still unsure about his new surroundings.  After putting my newly acquired weapons in the front closet, I kissed Lia’s cheek, which she seemed to find amusing, and played fetch with Odin for a bit.

I relaxed pretty quickly, even in the less-than-familiar surroundings.  The stuff and the company were all familiar, which seemed to help.

It felt all too comfortable, and as I sat back on the couch and observed Lia make dinner, it started to concern me a bit.  It felt great—no doubt about it—but it also felt wrong somehow.  Maybe because of who I was and what I had done, I just didn’t feel like I deserved it all, but I wasn’t sure.  Even after my little episode on the bus, I was happy.  It wasn’t a feeling I was used to experiencing.

Complacency is a bad thing.

My mind moved into itself.

“Got a spare smoke, sir?”

“Sure.”  I pull one out and hand it over to the private, who lights it quickly before leaning back against the wall next to me.”

“I’m heading back to the infantry unit in about an hour,” he says.  “I’ll report back all the intel you gave me.  Any chance they’ve discovered our position?”

“We've been here two weeks, private,” I say. “If we were going to be found, we would have been found already.”

“Evan?”

“Huh?”  I glanced up at Lia who was looking at me with questions in her eyes.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, sorry.”  I rubbed my face and felt annoyed with the stubble.

“I asked you if chicken was all right for the stir-fry.  There’s also beef.”

“Chicken is good.”

I thought about my route back to the apartment.  It had been complicated enough, but that didn’t mean there was no way for someone to have followed me.  I didn’t think anyone had, but there had been times in the past I thought that, too—times when I had been wrong.

We ate; I fed Odin, and then I stepped out onto the balcony to smoke after I had cleaned up the dishes.  I had to insist on it, telling Lia that the cook didn’t do the cleaning.  It was a phrase I had learned in the convent, though I hadn’t used it since then.

Throughout the rest of the evening of television-watching and somewhat subdued fucking—for us, anyway—my paranoia over being followed grew.  Lia seemed to sense that I was on edge, but I wouldn’t tell her why.  I didn’t want her to worry about it and then not be able to sleep.  If she didn’t sleep, I wouldn’t either.

She fell asleep, and I got back up and went out into the living room.  I looked around at the handful of still unpacked boxes but wasn’t sure where anything in them should go, so I sat on the couch and watched Odin watch me from his bed.

I tried not to think, but it didn’t work.  Memories assaulted me.  My mind replayed a vision of myself looking down the scope of my Barrett and squeezing the trigger.

“What the hell was that, sergeant?”  My captain’s voice comes from behind me, and I turn to look at him.

“Insurgent,” I say quietly.  “I could see the explosives under his shirt—he was heading in our direction.  As soon as I hit him, his hand must have release the detonator.”

I feel his hand on my shoulder.

“Keep watch,” he says.  “He may not have been the only one.  I’ll send a couple of our boys out to check what’s left.”

“Stupid fucking kid.  What made him do something like that?  They knew we were on the watch.”

Odin’s wet nose came in contact with my bare leg, and he snuffed at me.  I reached down and thanked him for his observation skills with a scratch behind the ears.

As much as I tried not to let it seep into me, the stress was just too much.  Eventually, I pushed myself off the couch, pulled on a pair of jeans, slipped into my shoulder holster, and tucked my Beretta in it.  I grabbed the assault rifle and a magazine of hollow-tipped rounds from the closet.  Out on the balcony, I leaned my back against the rails and watched.

It was a quiet night—too quiet for my preferences.  I liked the noise of the city, but there wasn’t much to be heard here.  Quiet gave me the advantage if someone was approaching, but it also made me a bit jumpy every time a bird landed in a tree.  I had a decent view of the river and tried to focus down the rifle’s barrel in that direction, but there wasn’t a scope on it, so I couldn’t see much.

I’d have to get it fitted with a scope.

I sat out there for a long time, just looking down to the street and watching for anything that didn’t look right to me.  With my fingers curled around the AR, I felt a bit more in control.  In the morning, I’d find Lenny Yates and do a little dirty work.

If I were going to admit it, I would have to say I was looking forward to it, not because of who it was, but because I hadn’t taken anyone out in a while.  I was eager to get back to work and to show Gavino I was serious about joining up with him.  It would also get me that much closer to getting Trent what he wanted so I could get Lia out of town.

Nothing was going to stop me from getting this job done.

Chapter 14—Heated Argument

On the northwest side of Chicago, next to a low-rent school district’s transportation department, there was a two-story building where Rinaldo’s underlings were often found.  The area was used for a variety of activities.  There were a handful of ancient, broken down school buses that looked to be long forgotten.  They made for quick and easy temporary storage, and the area was an out-of-the-way place to conduct some of the smaller transfers of goods for money.  The building also served as an occasional residence for those who didn’t have anywhere else to live.

It was simply referred to as the warehouse by Rinaldo’s crew.  I’d never lived there myself, but I’d been there plenty of times.  When someone in the organization got out of line, I’d killed there a few times as well.  It was right by the river, which made dumping the bodies quick and easy.

From the rooftop of the warehouse, I watched a lot full of parked school buses as the sun rose over the trees and shone down on my back.  It was a beautiful summer morning but too early for people to actually be working on the buses in need of repair.  That didn’t mean the lot was empty though.

Lenny Yates and a dark-haired, greasy guy in faded jeans and a plain white T-shirt had just entered one of the buses.  I didn’t recognize the other guy, but Lenny was easy enough to spot.  He was tall, lanky, and was probably recruited for basketball in his younger days.  Too bad he had such a coke habit, or he might have been good player.  Instead, he worked the shit end of Moretti’s business and snorted most of his earnings.

I was glad my information was still fresh enough from before I had been locked up to remember he had been spending a lot of time at the warehouse, smuggling weapons in the back of the buses.  I observed for a while as the two of them unloaded several small crates from the back of a U-Haul trailer attached to a pickup truck and took them through a hole in the fence and into one of the buses off by itself.  They were right next to a group of trees lining the Chicago River, which would be convenient enough if I wanted a place to dump the trash when I was done taking it out.

I moved silently to the side of the building and positioned myself behind an air conditioning unit.  It was decent cover as long as no one from higher up happened to look down.  The air conditioner also provided a little cover noise, but there wasn’t a silencer for the AR, so it wouldn’t make much difference once I fired.

The vantage point from the roof wasn’t a great angle, so I moved quickly to the south side of the warehouse where there were a couple of trees right up against the building.  I tossed the AR over my shoulder and reached for the closest branch.  It was sturdy, and I gripped the limb tightly as I tossed my leg over the side and shimmied down the trunk.

I looked back over toward the bus, but they were still inside.

The tree right next to me had a nice fork in the trunk, and I jumped up to settle myself in the middle of it. The view was perfect from here and gave me more cover if there was someone in one of the taller buildings nearby.  No one would be able to see me where I was.

I reached behind my neck and carefully secured a set of earplugs in my ears.  While I looked toward the pickup, I reached to my side with my right hand, grabbed the pistol grip, and brought the assault rifle around slowly.   With my left hand wrapped around the magazine, I moved the gun to eye level and lined up the rear and front sights on top of the barrel.

The greasy guy in jeans came out first with Lenny right behind him.  They moved over to the side of the pickup truck and right into my line of vision.  I breathed in, then let the air out slowly.  My finger pulled back against the trigger.

Two blasts.

Two bodies on the ground.

I jumped out of the tree and ran forward quickly.  The greasy guy had been a clean shot, but Lenny was hit in the throat and still alive.  His eyes widened as he saw me, and he opened his mouth.  No sound came from it, but I wasn’t much of a conversationalist while on the job anyway, so I put another shot in his brain with my Beretta.  I pulled out an old Polaroid camera from its case attached to my belt, took two pictures, and then quickly hauled the bodies to the river.

I knelt down by a pile of broken concrete blocks and made sure both the bodies were on their way down the river before I shoved myself back up on my feet to make my escape.  As I did, I could hear sirens approaching.  Someone had heard the gunfire and called it in, but I had plenty of time to get out of the area.  My only regret was not having time to check out the weapons in the bus before I had to move on.  I ran down the tree line, staying under cover of the thick summer growth.  A rental car I had picked up from the airport was parked on a nearby street, and I tossed my weapons in the back, climbed behind the wheel, and slowly drove off down the street.

I looked in the rearview mirror and saw the first of the police cars turning off the main road and onto the side street near the warehouse.  With a smile on my face, I drove out of the area, ditched the car, and headed back to the hotel provided by Gavino.  I spent about ten minutes yanking little burrs off my boots and jeans—they were all over the place near the river’s edge.  I decided to leave the duffel bag there in the room so I wasn’t carrying the murder weapon around so quickly after a hit.  I’d come back for it later.  If it had been my Barrett, I would have kept it with me, but I didn’t give a shit about these guns.

With the two pictures sealed in an envelope shoved into my pocket, I took a complicated route out of the area.  Bus, train, bus again.  I grabbed a cab back to Michigan Avenue, and then jumped on the bus to head back home.  I got off a few blocks away, preferring to walk the last bit to make damn sure I wasn’t being followed.

Though I’d made the hit at daybreak, it had taken me most of the rest of the day to get back to the new apartment.  It was past the usual suppertime, but it was mid-June and the sun was still up.  Outside the air was warm and comfortable.  The wind wasn’t as bad, either.  I was used to a lot of lake wind, but we were a little farther west than my previous place was located where there wasn’t so much of a constant breeze.

When I approached the apartment, Lia was standing in the green space with tears in her eyes, holding onto the end of Odin’s leash.  There was an older woman beside her with another dog lying nearby on the ground.  The woman was shaking her finger and shouting at Lia.

“You are responsible for your dog’s behavior!” the woman was yelling.

I half remembered seeing the woman before, walking a really big, fluffy shepherd-type dog.  I wasn’t sure of the actual breed, but it was big with long, thick hair and coloring similar to a collie.  The woman was most certainly of retirement age—well beyond, really—and very small in stature.  She looked kind of ridiculous walking a dog that had to be a hundred and thirty pounds.

“I’m sorry!” Lia exclaimed.  “I tried to hold on to him—he’s never even tried to get away from me before!  I don’t know what got into him!”

“What the hell?” I groaned as I walked up.

Lia’s eyes found me, and the tears started flowing.  I looked over at the woman, who was wearing tan slacks and one of those swimsuit cover-ups over her blouse.  She had her hands on her hips, and her head bobbed up and down as she talked.

“Your wife has no control over your dog!” she barked.

I raised an eyebrow in Lia’s direction over the marital status assumption but didn’t correct the woman.  Lia seemed too upset to notice.

“I tried to hold onto him, Evan—I swear!”  Lia started to cry harder.  “I couldn’t keep my grip, and he ran off!  The next thing I know, he’s…he’s…”

“He violated my baby!” the woman roared as she indicated the well-groomed dog now sitting on the ground next to her, licking at her own nether-regions.

I looked over to my dog, who sat panting in front of Lia’s feet, looking very proud of himself.  It wasn’t difficult to assess the situation for what it was, and I had to grin and waggle my eyebrows at my buddy.

The woman continued to fume.

“We couldn’t pull them apart,” Lia said meekly.

“You were hardly trying!” the woman shouted.  “It was all I could do to keep Gretta calm!”

“He growled at me!”

“Hey!” I snapped at Odin, who immediately dropped to the ground and put his nose on his paws.  I pointed over at Lia.  “Don’t growl at her!”

“You should have been here earlier!” the woman said as she turned to me.  “He was completely out of control!  Do you realize what he did?”

It was pretty obvious.

“He fucked your dog?” I tried to make it sound like a question though I didn’t have any doubt.  I folded my arms across my chest and glared at the woman.

“She was supposed to be bred with another Caucasian Shepherd later this week!”

I leaned to the side to peer around the woman at the dog in the grass, who was still concentrating on her own after-care.

“You mean you brought your in-heat bitch out here in the open for any other dog to smell and go nuts about her?”  I cocked a thumb toward Odin.  “And now you’re surprised he got a little horny?”

“She was on her leash and in my control the whole time!”

“Then why didn’t you stop her from spreading her legs?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” she snapped back at me.  “We were just standing there when your beast attacked!”

“She kinda looks like she enjoyed it,” I pointed out.  The bitch was still licking herself but seemed just as happy about the whole thing as Odin did.

Lia was visibly upset; the woman was irate, and I thought the whole situation was hilarious.

I reached out and took Odin’s leash from Lia, then stepped in front of her a bit so I was between her and the woman with the—very likely impregnated—dog.

“You are as insolent as your mutt!” the woman informed me.

“Probably more so,” I said with a nod.  “Look, it happened—can’t change that now.  If she does have pups, I’ll pay for it, okay?”

“You’ll pay the cost of the litter she was supposed to have!” the woman demanded.

“How much is that?”

“She could have had as many as ten of them,” the woman said with a smirk.  “At two thousand a piece, you do the math!”

“Twenty grand for a bunch of dogs?”  I rolled my eyes.  “Whatever.  I’ll pay you based on how many pups she does have.”

“I would have bred her multiple times with the stud dog,” the woman informed me.  She gave me a nasty little smirk to go with her attitude.  “She would have had more.”

“Then let him fuck her a couple more times,” I suggested.  “He could use the action.”

“Most certainly not!”

“Then the deal stands.”  I took a step forward and leaned closer to the woman.  I made sure I was right up in her face and staring down at her before I dropped my voice low.  “I suggest you take it because the humor of this situation is starting to wane a bit.  You don’t want me pissed off, or I might decide to just take a clothes hanger and fix the whole situation.  Capisce?”

I didn’t tend to use Italian as much as my co-workers, but quite frankly, sometimes it made the point better than English.  The woman took a step back as I lifted my eyebrows and stared her down.  She obviously picked up on my meaning, huffed her agreement, and then hauled her dog back toward the apartment entrance.

“Jesus, Evan!” Lia whispered as the woman scurried away.

“It’s all right,” I said, trying to sound reassuring.  “I don’t know if I could have cock-blocked him under those circumstances either.”

I snickered a little, grinned down at Odin, and started back to the apartment.

“That’s not what I meant,” Lia muttered as she fell into step with me.

“What, then?”

“You practically threatened her!”

I shrugged one shoulder.

“It shut her up, didn’t it?”

“Not the point.”

“What is the point?” I sighed and opened the door for Lia and me to enter with Odin prancing behind me, still looking self-satisfied and downright cocky.

“What if she calls the police?”

“For what?  Me offering to pay her for her fucking dogs?”

“No, for threatening to violently abort them!”

“I wouldn’t have done that,” I scoffed.  “Besides, at that point, it would be her word against mine.”

“I was a witness you know.”

I stopped for a minute and looked at her.

“Are you saying you’d speak out against me?”  I watched her carefully, wondering if she would really do that.  I was used to running in the kind of circles where that offense would be punishable by death, and I was a little taken aback that she’d consider it.  My skin went a little cold at the idea.

“Are you saying you would ask me to lie for you?”

“Yes.”  I kept looking at her, waiting for her to respond, but she just seemed dumbfounded.  I was a little pissed but figured the conversation was over and she understood where I was coming from, so I made my way back to the apartment with Odin trailing behind and Lia remaining silent.

At least, she did until we got inside.

“I have no idea whether you’re serious or not,” she said.

I walked into the kitchen and started to rummage around in the fridge.  I didn’t reply to her because I didn’t see any point in answering.  The whole conversation was making me mad, and I honestly didn’t know how to deal with it.

My idea of conflict resolution just didn’t fit the situation.

Avoidance was my next best option, but Lia seemed hell-bent on keeping me from doing that.

“You said you wouldn’t really hurt that dog, but then you would expect me to lie for you.  How am I supposed to know when you mean it and when you don’t?”

I opened up one of the drawers in the refrigerator, but I only looked in the direction of the food that was in there.  None of the actual contents were registering inside my agitated brain.  I closed the drawer and then pushed some of the containers around to see what was behind them.

“Are you even listening to me?” Lia asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Then why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I’m hungry.”

“Do you think this might be a little more important?”

I backed away and slammed the fridge door hard enough that the contents rattled.

“No,” I said, “I don’t.  I think this is total bullshit.”

Lia started to open her mouth, but that’s when my phone rang.  I was thrilled for the interruption and grabbed it out of my pocket immediately.  I didn’t recognize the number, but I answered just to get myself out of the argument with Lia.

“Yeah?” I said into the phone.

“Open the fucking door,” the unfortunately familiar voice on the other end said.

As if I wasn’t pissed off enough.

Trent stood in the hallway looking like the rat-bastard he was when I opened the door, but I blocked him from coming inside.

“Who’s this?” Lia asked quietly from behind me.

“Get in the fucking bedroom,” I snapped.  “Now.  Stay there until I tell you otherwise.”

Lia grumbled something under her breath before she walked away from me and into the bedroom.

“You do like to play ‘Mister Elusive,’ don’t you?” Agent Trent had somehow managed to get my phone number and the location of my apartment.  The annoyance I had been feeling toward the situation with Lia coupled with Odin’s impending fatherhood began to boil into something far more heated.

Fuck a duck.

“I don’t like people showing up unexpectedly,” I replied.  “What do you want, Trent?”

“I expect regular updates,” he snapped back at me.

“Well, I didn’t see that in the fucking contract!” I yelled at him.  “As I recall, my instructions were to get you something on Gavino Greco that could put him away.  That’s going to take some fucking time, so get off my dick!”

“Listen, you little shit,” Trent growled.  “You need to remember who is calling the shots here.  If I don’t think you’re performing up to standards, I’ll pull this deal, and your ass goes straight back to jail.  Considering you’ve already put a couple of Moretti’s guys in the river, I don’t think he’ll be inclined to help you out.  He’d probably be more inclined to take it out on that pretty little brunette’s cunt.”

I tightened my fingers around the phone still in my hand, tight enough to make my knuckles go white.  My teeth crushed against each other, and my eyes began to burn behind their lids.  I barely stopped myself from killing him right then and there.

“Don’t say another fucking word about her,” I hissed through my teeth.

“Hey, bitch!” he yelled out, still smiling.  “Maybe you ought to check into the asshole you’re living with!”

I stepped closer and shoved him farther into the hallway.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” I warned.

“Sore spot, huh?”  I could see the laughter in his eyes.  “Is she nice and tight on your cock, huh?  Don’t wanna share?  Then you better fucking listen to me.”

“Don’t push me,” I warned.  It was taking everything in my power just to control my breathing and not crush the phone at the same time.  “I said I’d do what you wanted, but don’t fucking push me.”

“I want updates,” Trent repeated.  “I’m assuming those two dead bodies got you into Greco’s outfit?”

“Not yet confirmed,” I replied, “but that should do it.”

“You tell me when you’re in,” he ordered.  “Tell me immediately.”

He turned around and stomped down the hall to the elevator.  I slammed the door shut and then threw the phone across the room, shattering it against the wall.

How the fuck did he figure out where we were, anyway?

“What was that?” Lia asked as she came out of the bedroom and looked at the phone debris on the floor next to the wall.  “What happened to the phone?”

“I dunno,” I snapped back at her.  “Maybe there’s a problem with the fucking battery.”

“You’re resorting to sarcasm?”  She narrowed her eyes at me.

“Only when you insist on asking stupid-ass questions.”

Lia’s eyes blazed, and she placed her hands on her hips as she started in on me again.

“I’m sorry if smashing phones and threatening the neighbors is something that’s so commonplace with you, but it’s still a bit of a shock for me.  I suppose I should also get used to having to lie for you as well?  Do I need to learn to use a gun in case I need to kill for you?”

“Now who’s fucking sarcastic?”

“Am I?” Lia fumed.  “I don’t know.  I have no idea what you expect from me!”

I didn’t know either, but I wasn’t about to say it.  I stomped past her and into the bedroom.  Eating was no longer important, and I just wanted the day to end.  Lia continued to go on, but I stopped listening to her as I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower while she was in mid sentence.

The hot water didn’t improve my mood.

Lia was sitting on the edge of the bed when I walked out wearing just a towel around my waist.  Before she had a chance to say anything, I flipped on my electric toothbrush and acted like I couldn’t hear her.  Unfortunately, that activity didn’t last very long, and when I turned around, she had her arms folded across her chest and her eyes focused right on me.

I marched out of the room and poured myself a scotch on the rocks before going back to the bedroom.  Attempting to ignore Lia’s glaring eyes, I stared out the window and sipped the drink.  After a minute, I glanced back to her, but she was still obviously pissed.

“You done with the avoidance tactics?”

How did she understand me so well?

“I could go with distraction,” I countered as I lowered the towel a little.  Lia continued to glare with her arms crossed.

I sighed and copied her gesture.

“Why did you threaten that woman?” Lia demanded.  “Why was that necessary?”

“It was necessary to shut her up,” I answered.  “I did it to keep you from seeing a side of me you really don’t want to run into.”

“Do you get bigger muscles and turn green?” she asked.

“Nice.”

“I wasn’t raised like this, Evan!  In my house, you didn’t threaten people when you were angry, and you didn’t lie.  And you certainly didn’t kill people for money!”

“You wanted to know!” I slammed the glass down onto the windowsill and then shouted at her as I moved toward the bed.  “You wanted to know what all this shit was about.  I didn’t want to fucking tell you, and I told you once it was out, I couldn’t take it back, but you still wanted to know!”

“Knowing doesn’t mean I’m okay with it!” she yelled back.  “It definitely doesn’t mean I’m going to participate in any of it!”

I took another step forward, and Lia pushed herself backwards with her hands and the heels of her feet until she reached the center of the bed.  I didn’t know exactly what she meant by not participating, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the details.  I just knew that if she kept talking, I was going to get really pissed off, and I had to get her to stop.

“You need to cut it out,” I told her.  My knees bumped up against the bed.  “Just drop it.”

“No,” she said firmly.  “I’m not going back to doing whatever the hell my boyfriend tells me to do.  I’ve lived that life—not anymore.”

I couldn’t take it anymore.  In frustration, I moved forward, grabbed both her wrists in my hands, and held them up above her head as I pushed her into the mattress.  Tossing one leg over her torso, I straddled her and leaned in close, which caused the towel around my waist to fall off to the side of the bed.

“You are pissing me off,” I growled.

“So what are you going to do about it?”  Lia’s jaw was set and her eyes tight—almost daring me.  I wasn’t sure exactly what she was daring me to do, but the feeling was still there.

“I don’t know yet.  I’m not used to this shit.”

“What ‘shit’?”

“Having someone around who is questioning what I do or say.”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you need it,” Lia said.  She tilted her head to one side a bit and twisted her hands.  I didn’t release her wrists—I tightened my grip a little instead.

Having her lying there beneath me—even though she was clothed—was getting me obviously hard.  I watched Lia’s eyes glance down and dilate slightly at the sight of my cock lying on her stomach and growing by the second.

I pulled her wrists together and gathered them in one hand before reaching down and taking my cock with the other hand.  I wrapped my fingers around the shaft and stroked it a couple of times.

“Maybe you need to keep your mouth shut,” I suggested as an alternative.  “Maybe I need to give you something to fill it up for a while.”

Her eyes narrowed again.

“You think I’m really in the mood right now?”

“I think you’re usually in the mood for my cock, yes.”

“I’m mad at you,” she reminded me.  She twisted her hips a bit but stopped as I tightened my thighs against her body.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” I informed her.

“What?  Am I your prisoner now?”

The images I had of her restrained in my bed entered my head again, and they were accompanied by thoughts of me holding her legs up against her chest as I fucked her.  However, as I looked down her body and then up to her face, I could see she wasn’t sharing my fantasy at the moment.  Her eyes went from flashing anger to somewhat fearful as she looked away from me.

It pissed me off.

“I don’t like this,” I fumed at her.

“Don’t like what?”

“Arguing with you.”

Lia’s eyes narrowed at me.

“So stop it,” she suggested, “and be reasonable.”

“I don’t want to be reasonable.”

“Well, what do you want then?” she snapped back.

I let go of my cock long enough to use that hand to unbutton Lia’s blouse and pull it open.  Her bra hooked in the back, so I reached inside the cups and pulled her tits out where I could see them.  I glanced back at her and saw her lip sucked into her mouth and her throat bob up and down.  Her eyes were wary.

“You afraid of me now?” I asked.

“A little,” she admitted.

“I told you I would never hurt you.”

“What exactly are you doing now?”

“Are you in pain?” I asked.  I already knew the answer was no.  I wasn’t holding onto her tightly—just firmly so she couldn’t move.  She was barely struggling underneath me, which was actually serving to turn me on even more.

Lia shook her head.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I said.  “I do want to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you, though.”

There it was—the slight parting of her lips, the rush of blood to her face, and the increase in her breath as her eyes darkened.  The fear and hesitation were quickly replaced by additional quick glances at my cock and the sight of her tongue reaching out to moisten her lips.

I didn’t ask her if she wanted it.  I didn’t need the confirmation.  I only needed her to lift her hips a little so I could drag her shorts down her legs, which she did without much prompting.  Her panties were still around her knees, and her bra and shirt were still partially on, but it was enough for my tastes.  I ran my hand up her body, pinched her nipples slightly, and then ran the back of my hand up her neck.

I took two fingers and pressed them against her lips until she parted them. I slid them inside her mouth.

“Suck.”

She complied, and the feeling of her tongue over my fingers made me realize I’d never had my dick in her mouth.  I only half considered straddling her face and fucking her mouth, but I knew I was still angry and pounding her pussy was a much better option.

I pulled my wet fingers out of her mouth and then reached down to run them over her pussy lips.  One of them found her entrance, invaded it, and was quickly joined by the second one.  I decided she was as ready as she needed to be, pulled my fingers out of her, grabbed my dick by the base, and lined it up.

In one quick movement, I was deep inside of her.

Lia jumped and cried out with every thrust as I slammed into her—quick, hard, mercilessly.  I gripped her wrists in both hands as I leaned over her, my heart pounding in my chest and my breaths coming in rapid gasps.  Sweat quickly collected over my skin, but I didn’t slow down—I just fucked her harder.

Her body rocked beneath me, causing her tits to shake and bob deliciously, but I could only feel where we were connected.  Her body hugged my dick, stroked my shaft, and gripped down on me as she pushed her panties the rest of the way off and wrapped her legs around my waist.  She cried out again with a shudder.

With a long, loud grunt, I emptied into her but didn’t stop pounding my cock into her body until I had completely finished coming in her.  Even then, I stroked my softening dick in her a few times as the muscles in my arms began to shake.

A bead of sweat trickled from the back of my neck and dropped onto her skin, right above her heart.  I watched it travel over her flesh and down the side of her body, leaving a wet trail behind it as her chest rose and fell.

I couldn’t hold myself up any longer and didn’t want to crush her, so I rolled to the side and collapsed against the mattress with Lia next to me.  I kept my arms around her and held her to my chest as I continued to gasp for air.  Lia’s fingers wrapped around my upper arm, but I didn’t look at her.

I felt shredded inside of myself—like someone had literally gone into my guts with a set of knives and rotated them around for a while—and I didn’t understand why.  It was nauseating and suffocating.  I didn’t know what to do to make it stop.

“Wow,” Lia sighed.  “That was like the fight and the make-up sex all rolled into one.”

I couldn’t find the humor at the moment and pushed away from her without speaking. I jumped out of the bed and crossed the room.

“What’s wrong?” Lia called out.

I glanced over my shoulder to see her sitting in the center of the bed with the sheet pulled up to her chest, and I wondered why chicks did that.  I’d just been inside of her, and now she was shielding her tits.  What sense did that make?

“I just need a drink of water,” I said as I opened the bedroom door.  “You want anything?”

“No, I’m fine.”  She looked like she was about to say something else, but I left before she had the chance.

I wasn’t in the mood to talk.

Out in the kitchen, I poured myself some water from one of those filtration pitchers.  I’d never used one before, but Lia had it with her stuff. The water felt cold on the back of my throat as I drank it down and then quickly poured another one.  As I put the glass down, I glanced toward the balcony doors.

There was someone out there.

Instinct took over.  I dropped to the ground and rolled backwards to put the kitchen island between me and the glass door.  I was completely naked, and the closest gun was in the closet by the door.  I could make it, but if whoever was out there was going to shoot, I wouldn’t have much cover.

I decided to make a run for it, crashed into the closet, and knocked over a little decorative table next to the front door in the process.  Fighting hard against the panic growing inside of me, I ripped open the closet door and grabbed my Beretta.  I hadn’t heard any shots yet, but I still dived back behind the couch as quickly as I could.

I checked the magazine, clicked it into place, and wrapped my hand around the grip.  I positioned myself at the edge of the couch and was about to turn and start firing when I heard movement inside.

“Evan?”

“Get back in the bedroom!” I screamed at Lia as she appeared in the doorway.

“Evan!  What’s happening?”

I moved back around the couch where I had better cover as well as a better view of the balcony.  It was also a little farther from Lia, and I would be able to draw fire away from her.  I came around the far side and raised my gun again.  From there, I could see the figure on the other side of the glass—a small, thin person with white, sand-covered clothes.

It was the kid.

He just stood there—tears coming out of his eyes—and looked at me.

My hands started shaking.  I couldn’t hold the gun straight any longer, but I also wasn’t so sure I was actually pointing it at anyone who was there.

“Not fucking real,” I whispered.

“Evan?”

“Look out at the balcony,” I told her.

Her head turned briefly toward the glass before looking back to me.  There was no shock or fear in her eyes, which there certainly would have been if she had seen what I had.

“There’s no one there, is there?”

“No.”  Lia looked again, this time tilting her head to the side for a better angle, but her answer was the same.  “There’s no one there.”

I squeezed my eyes shut before I looked again.

There was nothing there.

“Fuck.”  I dropped down on my ass and leaned against the side of the couch with my elbows up on my knees and the Beretta dangling there with no purpose.

Lia was beside me a moment later.

“Are you all right?”  She reached to touch my arm, but I shoved her hand away.

“I’m fine,” I snapped.

“Who was out there?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“No one.”  I rubbed my forehead with the back of my hand and laughed at myself.  “We live on the fifteenth floor, for Christ’s sake—how would anyone get there?”

“I understand that,” Lia replied quietly.  “Who did you think you saw?”

I looked over to her, crouched on the floor a couple feet away from me like she was trying to coax some wild, wounded animal out of a cave.  To top it off, she was as naked as I was.  I shook my head at the ridiculousness of it all and pushed against the carpet to stand myself up.

“Come on,” I said as I reached my hand out for Lia’s, “let’s go back to bed.”

She took my hand and followed me back into the bedroom and under the sheets.  She was tentative to touch me at first, given how I had reacted in the other room, but I wrapped my arms around her waist and she wrapped hers around my head.

We both relaxed with a long sigh.

“Are you going to tell me what you saw?” she asked.

“Just a kid,” I replied with a shrug.

“You were going to shoot a kid?”

“I shot him before.”  I tilted my head up to see her better.  “He was wrapped in explosives and headed for our base.  I took him out from two kilometers away six years ago, and he shows up on my fucking balcony now.  What’s up with that shit?”

“I don’t know,” Lia replied.  “Have you ever talked to your psychologist about him?”

“No.  Didn’t see any point.”

“Maybe he can help you figure out what the point is,” she suggested.

I looked at her for a long moment as I tried to come up with a way I could even begin to convey everything that had happened over there.  I couldn’t possibly talk to Mark about every little detail, and I didn’t know how to put it into words that would make any sense.  Besides, I knew exactly what Mark Duncan would say—seeing this kid was somehow important.

The problem was that there were probably a thousand other important bits I wasn’t seeing.

“No,” I finally said.  I felt Lia tense at my words.

“You can’t just ignore it,” she said.  “Evan—you were about to shoot up the balcony door.”

“I didn’t.”

“But you would have!”

“Maybe not,” I said with a shrug.  I tucked my head against her body, hoping she was going to get the hint and drop it all.  I wasn’t used to having someone else around me so much, let alone have to justify myself and my actions.  It was uncomfortable at the very least.

“You can’t keep going like this,” Lia said.  Her hand ran over the back of my head slowly, and I relaxed a little.  “It’s scaring me.”

I opened my eyes and looked back up at her.  All the stress and worry were plain on her face, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do to change that.  I wasn’t sure that I could.

“I scare me sometimes,” I admitted.  I cracked a bit of a smile, but it wasn’t returned.  My tongue darted out over my lips.  “I don’t know how to make it stop.  I don’t even know when it’s going to happen.  It didn’t happen for years, and it just started again.”

“When did it start up again?”  Her fingers moved to my shoulder and over to my chest.   With the palm of her hand, she stroked down to my abs and back up again.

The feel of her touch was distracting, calming, and disarming.

“Not too long after I met you,” I replied.  “Well, some of it, anyway—the dreams, not being able to sleep—that started then.  Seeing shit that isn’t there is more recent.”

In the low light coming from the window, I could see the glistening in Lia’s eyes, and I hated it.  I hated that I was the one making her feel that way and that there was nothing I could do to change it.  I hated being this way and couldn’t even begin to understand how it happened.

“I…I wasn’t always like this,” I said, my voice hushed.  “I just don’t know…I don’t know what’s me inside and what isn’t.”

“But that’s who I met in Arizona,” Lia said.  “That’s the person who let a stranger stay with him, even though it was probably dangerous.  That’s who cooked for me and…and…”

“Fucked you?” I smiled slightly, and this time the gesture was returned.

“That’s the man who understood what I needed more than anything else and exactly how to give it to me.”

“It’s not like I didn’t want to do it,” I said.

“I realize that.”  Lia’s smile widened, and she blushed.  “The point is, that was all you.  So you are in there, Evan—I know you are.”

I reached up and pushed her hair away from her forehead and stroked my fingertips down the side of her face as I talked.

“There’s so much shit in my head—shit I can’t unsee or undo.  Sometimes it feels like there’s something inside of me just…tearing me up inside and waiting to bust its way out.  I think maybe…maybe if I could get that out, then maybe the person I was is still underneath.”

I tightened my fingers slightly on her shoulder.  I wanted to grip her as tightly as I could.

“Someday—when we’re away from here, and it’s just us—will you help me?  Will you help me get it out so I can be what you need?”

Her hands cradled my face, and she brought her lips to brush quickly against my mouth.

“Of course I will, Evan.  Don’t you see?  That’s why I’m staying.”

Nothing was going to stop me from making sure she had the chance.

Chapter 15—Unexpected Gift

“I keep seeing this kid I shot in when I was over there.”

Mark Duncan was noticeably pissed off at me, not that I blamed him.  As far as he had known, I dropped off the face of the planet once I left incarceration.  Once I came out and told him I was hallucinating, he dropped the anger and looked me over carefully.

“Is there someone you are seeing who looks like this kid and you think it’s him, or is there no one there at all?”

“No one there, not when I try to get closer to him.  He just vanishes.”

“Are you hearing things, too?”

“No.”

“You did before though, didn’t you?  When you were locked up?”

“Yeah,” I acknowledged.  “A few times.”

“Did you see him then?” Mark asked.

“No, not until a couple of weeks ago.”

“Always the same person?”

“Yeah.”  I reached up and scratched at the back of my head.

“How many times have you seen him?”

“Three or four now, I guess.”  I leaned back and took a calming breath.  “I don’t understand why I see him.  I killed plenty of people when I was there.”

Mark sat back as well and chewed on the end of his pen.

“Tell me about killing him.”

I went over it all—how I had been on scout duty and had seen him approaching our base.  I told him about the bombs strapped to him and how young he was.  I even told him about my captain telling me I had done well.

“So?” I asked.  “What does it mean?”

“It could mean a lot of things,” Mark said in typical, vague psychologist fashion.  “Like you said—you’ve taken other lives.”

His eyes narrowed slightly as he said it, and his posture changed minutely.

He knows.

I wasn’t sure what digging he had done over the past few weeks, but I had no doubt that he had found out what I did for a living, and it wasn’t paid-under-the-table roofing.

“What made this life different from the others?” he asked.

I could have called him out on it and maybe even threatened him into silence, but I didn’t see the point.  If he was going to turn me in, it wasn’t like he had anything more on me than the feds already did.  His knowledge was interesting and changed our dynamic but ultimately didn’t matter to me.

“He was a kid, I guess,” I said but didn’t really buy it.  I’d taken the lives of gang members not much older than the insurgent teenager.  I shrugged.  “Maybe he was a virgin.”

“Does that matter to you?”

“Dying a virgin seems kind of shitty.”

“You’re too flippant about it for that to be the reason,” Mark countered.  He was pissed again.

“So, what is it, then?” I snapped back.

“He’s a symbol, Evan,” Mark informed me.  “A symbol about what is something you’re going to have to figure out.  If you don’t, you’re going to keep seeing him.”

Fuck.

* * *

“Your phone doesn’t answer.”

“Sorry about that, sir.”  I sat down in the lounge area of Quay across from Gavino and Andrey and handed them each my new number.  Micah and Craig were standing in their designated spots off to the side, trying to look intimidating.  “Technical difficulties with the other one.”

Andrey grumbled something in Russian—I was definitely going to have to learn another language if I was going to keep this up—and folded his arms.

“You have news for me?” Gavino asked.

I took two Polaroid photos out of my pocket and handed them over.

“Destroy those, obviously.”

Andrey glared at me.

“Why do you use such old technology?” he asked.  “You don’t have a camera on your phone?”

“Do you want a lot of digital pictures around as evidence?” I asked.  “With these—those are the only photos outside of the ones the cops take when they find the bodies.  After a couple days in the river, they don’t look so pretty anyway.”

“This is pretty to you?” Andrey asked.

I took a long drag on my cigarette and leaned back in my chair.  I looked at him steadily for a moment, blew smoke across the table, and then replied.

“I think they’re beautiful,” I said.  “Nice clean shots—one to the head, one to the throat.  Not bad, considering that rifle needs a scope on it for decent accuracy at that distance.  Maybe I’ll add an ACOG or a CCO.”

“You get off on this, don’t you?” Micah snickered.

“I’ve got a hard-on just thinking about it.”  I stared into his eyes until he looked away.

“It’s good work,” Gavino said.  “Quick, too.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.  “That’s how I roll.”

“Give him his money.”  Gavino looked up at Craig, who pulled a plain envelope out of his breast pocket and handed it over.

I counted the money quickly and was pleasantly surprised it actually contained ten grand.  I had fully expected to be stiffed for the job.

“All right, Arden,” Greco said, “you’re in—for now.  I’m gonna be watching you, though, so don’t try to get cute.  You got that?”

“Yes, sir,” I replied as I tucked the envelope away.  “Just let me know what you need next.”

“Next, you come to my office,” Gavino said.  “I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team.  You probably already know them, and they certainly know you.  I don’t think you’ll be shocked to hear some of them are not thrilled with this idea.”

“I understand.  They’ll get used to me.”

Craig snorted through his nose, earning him a disapproving look from Gavino.

“Fuck you,” I said to the big Irishman.  “Maybe if you could hold your own with a gun, your boss wouldn’t need me.”

“You cocky motherfucker,” he sneered.  “I don’t need any lip from you.”

“What you need is a shooting lesson.  Once we get past that, we can talk about your lack of any actual tactics.”

“That’s enough,” Gavino sighed.  “I’m not putting up with any of that from you boys, got it?”

Craig took a deep breath before nodding.  Gavino looked over to me.

“I was just offering some of my other services,” I told him.

“You were just being a dick,” Gavino corrected.

I shrugged.  I didn’t want to take this too far.  If I did, I would end up with Craig watching me too closely, and I didn’t need that.  I wanted to get in as deep as possible so I could find what I needed and get the fuck out of Dodge.

Chicago.

Whatever.

The five of us left the bar and entered a limo parked out front.  I knew where Gavino’s office was though I’d never been inside of it.  I’d been outside and down the block—perched on top of a high-rise apartment building with my Barrett and a full magazine—but never inside.

Once we’d arrived, Gavino led the way to the large, posh office—much larger than Rinaldo’s—and sat in a plush leather chair.  There was extravagance everywhere—something Rinaldo saved for his home, not his workplace.  Gavino obviously liked to flaunt what he had.

He went through a few pointless introductions—I knew everyone there by face and name except for one.  She was introduced as Jenna Ranger and was apparently in charge of the human trafficking side of the business.

That shit just gave me the creeps.

She was tall with a body-builder’s physique, round ass, long brown hair and green eyes.  She gripped my hand firmly when we shook and held it longer than she needed to for a hello.  I had the feeling I was going to have to watch her carefully, but I didn’t mind the idea—she was very easy on the eyes.  Her side of the profession was definitely unexpected.  A woman dealing with what was usually the kidnapping and breaking of girls seemed out of place.

Another man walked into the room, and I knew him immediately as Rurik Dytalov though we hadn’t met in person.  I had killed a few people under him, including one of his cousins, but as far as I knew, he didn’t know that.

We were introduced, and he eyed me coldly as he sat next to Andrey, his partner in the Russian outfit.  Like most of the Russians, he was blond and of intimidating size if you happened to be scared of that.  His English wasn’t as good as Andrey’s, but he seemed to understand the discussion going on around him.  I had him pegged as brighter than the rest of them almost immediately and was proven right before I had even left the room.

“Mister Arden has proven himself useful in a short amount of time,” Gavino said to the group.  “Though I think he has a way to go to completely prove his loyalty, I’ve decided to let him into our operations in an official capacity.”

“You agree with this,” Rurik said as he looked over to Andrey.  “I tell you my concerns, but you still agree.”

Andrey replied in Russian first and then in English.

“He does have skills we need,” Andrey said, “both as assassin and as protector.”

“Just don’t ask him to do any knife work,” Micah snickered.  “Apparently, he’s messy.”

I offered him a bit of a shrug.

“I’ll still do it,” I replied, “as long as you don’t take off points for neatness.”

I watched both Andrey and Gavino closely, trying to gauge their silent exchange.  The Russians were in Greco’s group much deeper than I realized, and I wondered if Rinaldo understood the extent of it.  Having the two organizations joining forces was always a concern—both due to the numbers as well as the access to overseas merchandise.  Rinaldo wouldn’t like seeing them all work together so closely.

I’d done a lot of work to discourage that earlier in the year, but they must not have gotten the right message.

“You use knives for work?”  Rurik nodded toward me pointedly before continuing in his thick accent.  “There was woman here with us who was killed with knife.  It was sloppy job.”

I sat motionless and didn’t respond.  I knew exactly who he was talking about—Tasha Zorin.  Rinaldo had asked me to send a message with her death, and I had.  Andrey said something else to Rurik in Russian.  The tone was one of warning, but Rurik didn’t seem interested in heeding it.

“You kill for our competitor,” he said.  “How many of my people have you killed?”

“This is history,” Gavino stated.

“I have right to know!  If he is man who put her head on my door, I have right to know!”

I leaned back in my seat and looked over to Gavino, wondering how he was going to let this play out.  Intelligence aside, he was still obviously in charge.

“History!” he bellowed.  “I know he has killed many of my people as well, and if I can set that aside to employ him, then so can you!  This is business.  Just business.”

Rurik glared from Gavino to Andrey but didn’t say anything else.  When no one else dared say anything, Gavino spoke again.

“Mister Arden is in my employ now.  Is that correct, Evan?”

“Yes, sir.”

“He has already done work for me, and I have more for him to do soon.  We will keep the past behind us.”

“I do not trust him,” Rurik replied.

“And I don’t trust you,” Gavino responded, “but still we manage to work together.  How many caviar shipments have you lost?”

“Four,” Rurik said.

“And now I will offer you protection for your next shipment.  Mister Arden will be that protection, won’t you?”

I nodded at Gavino, but kept my eyes on Rurik.

“It is settled,” Andrey announced.  He and Rurik had another Russian exchange but seemed to be at an understanding when it was over.  Soon afterwards, the group began to break up and go their separate ways.  I was given the time and location of the next shipment and decided it was time to go do a little recon of the area to find a good spot to conceal myself.

Jenna followed me out of the office and into the hall.

“You know how to make friends,” she mused.

“It’s all part of the game.”  I shrugged and started down the hallway, but she stopped me again.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said as she tossed her long brown hair off her shoulder.  “You have quite the reputation.”

“For?”

Jenna laughed.

“For being a merciless killer.”  She locked eyes with me and took another step closer.  Her hand reached out, and she ran her fingers down my chest.  “Makes me wonder in what other ways you are…merciless.”

I glanced down at her hand as it found its way to my abs and then ran up my arm.  She traced the outline of my bicep with her forefinger before she wrapped her hand around it.

“Nice,” she said softly.  “You like the gym, hmm?”

“I spend some time there,” I admitted.

“I bet you do.”

Without any further warning, I found her lips pressed hard against mine.  Instinctively, I returned the kiss, wrapping one arm around her to grab her ass and hold her against me as her tongue pushed inside of my mouth.

I shouldn’t be doing this.

Never in my life had I been in such a situation.  I’d never had a relationship that was considered “exclusive” in any way and had always gone with the flow when a woman came on to me.  Rarely had I ever turned one down, and that was only when I planned on killing her later.

Jenna was a beautiful woman, and I knew taking her up on her obvious offer would work very much to my advantage when it came to getting the more detailed information I was going to need to bring Greco down.  She was close to him and had been for some time.  He would trust her with much more than he ever would with me.

I didn’t push her away.  I let myself respond to her touch even as her hand moved to palm my dick, which also responded predictably.  It wasn’t like I was going to fuck her there in the hallway, so I figured it was still a relatively safe thing to let her do.  She made it clear what she wanted—I just needed to drag it out as long as possible.

She pulled away first, taking my lip in her teeth briefly as she did.  I opened my eyes and looked down at her with a half-grin.

“You’re an aggressive little thing, aren’t you?”

“I take what I want,” she said simply.  “Always have.”

“Not exactly a great place for such things,” I said as I looked around the hallway of the office building.  I could see Micah near the doorway, watching from the window.  “I have a little work to do, but let’s continue this…‘conversation’ later.”

“Most definitely.”  Jenna smacked my ass before she turned and sauntered down the hall.  I shook my head slightly before heading to the exit and out into the street.

For the next several weeks, Gavino sent me after a variety of characters in Chicago’s underworld.  They weren’t often Rinaldo’s people—there was supposed to be a truce between the families though it was always a tentative one.  It was like the Cold War between the United States and the Soviet Union—a necessity to keep both families operating but not because either organization liked the idea.  I found out very quickly that Gavino was reaching into many of the businesses that had been carved out for the Moretti family.

Of course, Rinaldo was doing the same thing.

I had also managed to be far too busy to meet up with Jenna, though she had approached me a couple of different times.  There was always someone else about though, so she had made do with lecherous glances from across the room.  The couple of times we had spoken, it was clear she was far more open than she should be.  With just a little casual conversation and light touches, I had already gathered some information that may very well prove useful.  She liked to vent about her job a bit, and some of that venting was more than she should have let on.

At Gavino’s request, I stayed away from Rurik completely.  It was clear he didn’t like me, and Gavino’s thought on that type of conflict was to avoid it.  I would have preferred to handle it a bit more violently, but I was given very precise instructions to not kill anyone who wasn’t on my list.

I kept out of sight as much as possible.  My traveling arrangements were still convoluted, and I either stayed at the apartment with Lia or the hotel room near Quay.  I didn’t go out or show my face in public, and thus far, Rinaldo had yet to contact me.

Somehow, my hearing date kept getting pushed back as well, so I hadn’t had to appear in court with my attorney.  He’d been leaving messages through the correctional center, but I hadn’t returned any of them.  I assumed Trent was behind the court’s failure to offer me a speedy trial, and that was also working out well.  I wasn’t sure what I would do if I actually needed to appear in court.

It was only a matter of time before Rinaldo caught up with me, but I was hoping I would have enough time to get the goods on Greco before that happened.  I did talk to Trent on the phone but had avoided having to meet him in person.  I claimed it was because we shouldn’t be seen together, but that only worked for so long.

He wanted to meet in neutral territory and was no longer taking no for an answer.  I finally gave in but picked a place I was familiar with for our meeting—the 676 Bar and Grill in the Omni Hotel downtown.

I knew there was something not right almost immediately.

There was something about the way he walked into the bar that bothered me right away.  Feds are usually easy to spot with the way they walk in like they own everything, and that was the sort of stride he had when he walked into the visiting room at the prison, but this time it was different.  I couldn’t quite give it a name, but it was somehow lighter—more confident.  Like he knew he had a pair of aces in the hole and everyone else was holding shit.

“Tell me what you got,” Trent said as soon as he sat down at the bar.

“Let’s get some privacy first.”

I glanced over to Michele with one “L,” the bartender at 676, and got her attention.  She refilled my scotch, got Trent the same, and I told her we were moving to the seats by the window.  We made our way over to the grouping of chairs and couches that overlooked Michigan Avenue and sat down.

“Well, asshole?  What do you have?”

“You’re quite the charmer,” I said with a chuckle.  “You kiss your mama with that mouth?”

“Shut up and tell me what you know.  You’ve given me nothing but shit for two weeks.  If you give me something worthwhile, maybe I’ll tell you what I’ve heard.”

I stared at him for a long moment, but he didn’t appear to be bluffing.  I wasn’t sure what kind of information he had, but it must be noteworthy enough to taunt me with it.  Bringing it up so soon, though—that also meant he wanted me to hear whatever it was.

That was not good news.

If he had something he wanted to tell me so badly, it would most assuredly be something I wouldn’t like hearing.  It also meant I needed to hear it, so I made sure Trent had something he would consider valuable.

“I have something you’re going to like,” I told Trent.  I sipped my scotch before setting it on the table in front of me and leaning forward.  “Greco’s got a woman working for him—a Miss Jenna Ranger.  She’s the bitch that collects the goods for one of his businesses.  She’s high up in the organization and thinks she’s invulnerable.”

“Yeah,” Trent said as he narrowed his eyes at me, “I know who she is.  What about her?”

“Well, Greco’s not happy with her at the moment.  It seems the last shipment of people-cargo wasn’t what it was supposed to be.  His idea of punishment is that he’s going to go along for the ride personally when she picks up the next batch.”

“You mean he’s going to be there himself when she picks up a bunch of kidnapped kids, illegally smuggled into the country?”

“You got it.”

I could see actual drool as it formed at the corner of his mouth.

“When?  Where?”

“The when is around the middle of October,” I said.  “They haven’t decided on a where yet.”

“That’s still a ways off.  When are you going to have the details?”

“Probably shortly after I bang the bitch,” I replied.  I didn’t really intend to fuck Jenna, but I also knew Trent expected that kind of shit from me, and it might throw him off Lia a bit.

He smirked.

“You are a low-life little shit, aren’t you?” he said.  “Every once in a while, I think maybe there’s something redeemable in there, but there isn’t.  You’re just a fucked up, murdering, shell-shocked, piece-of-shit bastard.”

I’d been called worse.

“The shipment is coming from the Caribbean, probably Haiti or the Dominican Republic.  I think they’re still in the process of acquiring the cargo.”

“Sick fuckers.”

I happened to agree with Trent on that one.  I might not have had a whole lot of scruples, but that was one of them.  He finished his drink and started to stand up without commenting any further.

“You had something to tell me?” I reminded him.

Trent’s eyes glittered as his mouth turned up.

“I do,” he acknowledged.  “It’s pretty good and ripe, too.”

“So spill it.”

“Moretti knows you’re working for Greco,” Trent said with a sadistic little smile.  “He’s on to you, seriously pissed off, and has decided to teach you a lesson by putting out a contract on your lady friend, if you even care.”

There was no lie in his voice or posture—none at all.  What he was saying was completely true, and now Lia was officially caught up in the shit-storm that had been brewing since Trent and Johnson first visited me in jail.

“It’s an open contract,” he said.  “First one to her gets the cash.”

“How much?” I asked.

“You thinking of taking the job?” Trent said as he laughed.  “Kill her while you fuck her, maybe?  That would make it an easy hit.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I growled.

He laughed again.

“So she does mean something to you?  You got a funny way of showing it.”

“Answer the fucking question.  How much is the contract worth?”

“Fifteen,” he told me.  “Moretti must think she’s going to be an easy one to get.”

I wasn’t sure if I was more insulted that my girl’s price was so low or more thrilled that it wasn’t the kind of price that would attract hunters from out of town.  Ultimately, I was glad there wouldn’t be too many others looking for her.  I would probably be able to come up with the complete list of Chicago-based contract killers within a couple hours.  I knew most of them already.  We might not have afternoon tea together, but we were still well aware of each other’s activities.

I wondered if my reputation alone would keep some of them away but decided it would actually work against me.  There were definitely those who would consider a feather like that in their hats to be a drop on me even if Lia was a relatively easy target on her own.

I needed to get back to her.

“Thanks,” I muttered as I stood, downed my scotch, and began to move away.

“You make sure you get me the where long before the time comes.  You got that, Arden?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

I was extra cautious on the way home.  I took a much longer route and watched my back constantly.  At one point on the L, I knew there was someone in dark clothing who had stepped on just as I had on the last two stops, and I tried to get a glimpse of him in the car.  I couldn’t find anyone and considered that it might be my paranoia acting up again, but Lia wasn’t worth the risk.

I jumped out at the next stop and hung around outside the train for a while.  I saw the same guy again—long dark jacket that was too heavy for the season and a hoodie pulled up over his head.  I stepped onto the next train, watched him carefully as he did the same, and then I jumped off before the train started to move.

He was waiting for it and stepped off as well.

Well, that confirms that.

I wasn’t going to fuck around with him, either—not when Lia was my biggest concern.  I walked out of the station and toward the alley nearby.  I could hear the footsteps behind me—at this point he had to know I was on to him—and they were getting closer.  I moved quickly over the puddles and junk on the blacktop, around a group of dumpsters, and into a doorway leading to the back entrance of an apartment building.  I went up a half flight of stairs, checked that there was no one on the stairwell, turned, and waited.

He was inside just a moment after I turned, and I didn’t give a shit if it was paranoia or not.  I pulled out my Beretta and fired.

My ears rang from the deafening blast as it echoed around in the stairwell.  At the base of the stairs, the guy was struggling slightly, but there was no way he was ever going to get up again.  The blast left a huge hole in his back, and there wouldn’t be any fixing that.  Still, I moved back down the stairs and flipped him over with my boot.

I knew him.

Arthur Douglass was a small-time, independent contract killer.  He wasn’t very good at it, tended to leave a mess and a lot of evidence.  Though it hadn’t been enough to get caught, he still generally annoyed people who hired him.  He’d obviously gone a little rogue, given the tattered jacket and hoodie.  Maybe it was his idea of a disguise—I didn’t know and didn’t care.

“You’re an idiot,” I told him before I put another bullet in his head.

With my ears still ringing, I made my way back to the L and started all over again.

* * *

“Will you at least tell me why I’m packing?”

Lia was understandably ticked off.  I was giving her a lot of orders but not a lot of reasons why she needed to pack a bag immediately so I could move her to another location.  Once I blew up at her completely, she realized how serious I was and started doing what I said, but she was still pissed.

I couldn’t really blame her, but I also didn’t want to scare the shit out of her.  Telling her there was now a price on her head wasn’t going to give her any warm, fuzzy feelings.

“You’re packing because you are going to spend a few days away from here,” I said.

“Cryptic much?”

I went to the balcony and looked down below for anyone unusual hanging about.  The only person I saw below was the bitchy old woman with the obviously pregnant dog out in the green space.  It was probably about time for the pups to be born, and I wondered briefly how much cash it was going to cost me.

I pulled the curtains across the glass opening.

“You get your shit together,” I called over my shoulder.  “I’m leaving for about ninety minutes.  Don’t leave the apartment—not even to take Odin out.  Don’t hang out around the windows.  Don’t open the curtains.  And don’t open the fucking door.  Got it?”

Our eyes met, and I could see how close she was to losing it.  I moved up to her quickly, holstered my Beretta, and pulled her against me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered against her hair.  “I just need to keep you safe, okay?  Right now, it’s not safe here.  I was being followed on the way back here.  I took care of him, but there may be others I missed.  I need to get you out of here and to someplace where I know you’re okay.”

She cringed at my words and looked away from me.  I wanted to apologize for a couple other things as well, like not warning her there was a contract out for her death and maybe for kissing another woman while she fondled my cock, but I didn’t.  I couldn’t imagine that it would help the situation at all and had a very real possibility of making it worse.

I kissed Lia softly on the forehead, then tilted her head up and placed another kiss on her lips.  She sighed and leaned against me for a moment before she pushed back with her hands on my chest.

“I don’t like this,” she said.  She sounded defeated, and I didn’t like it.

“I know, baby.  But I’m close, or at least a lot closer.  I have some good information, and if it pans out, we could be out of here in a couple of weeks—a month, tops.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my apartment,” I told her.  “I need to get a few things.”

“Should I go with you?”

I brought my hand up to her cheek.

“I’d rather keep you close, but the chances of my apartment being watched are about one hundred percent.  I don’t want you seen.”

“Why not?”

I let out an exasperated breath.

“Please, I can’t explain now.  Just listen, okay?”

She pursed her lips but nodded her head.  I kissed her once more before checking my Beretta and heading back out the door.

“Remember—don’t answer the door.  Not for fucking anybody, all right?”

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

I didn’t want to waste time, so I took a slightly shorter route back to my apartment.  I went up north first, so I would at least be coming in from another direction but still arrived in good time.  I approached the door to the apartment quietly, listened a moment, and then went inside.

Nothing looked out of place, and maybe my paranoia was kicking in again and maybe it wasn’t, but I did have the distinct feeling someone had been there.  There wasn’t anyone there now, though, so I starting to collect what I had come for.

Mainly money.

I had a lot of it stashed away, and though the cops had confiscated about eighty grand in cash lying in the back of my closet, there was still plenty hidden much more discreetly.  I had that much in the open just for such an occurrence.  If they had found only a few hundred dollars, they would have looked a lot harder to find the rest.  They hadn’t even found the bit I had taped to the underside of the dresser, so it was likely they hadn’t found any of my other stashes.

There was a lot more.

In the kitchen underneath the refrigerator’s drip pan was ten grand.  There was twenty more sealed in plastic inside the toilet bowl and fifty thousand inside the air ducts.  I collected cash from a few other sites and ended up with a hundred and ten when I was done.

More than enough to get us going quickly if that was what we needed to do.

Inside my front closet, I selected one of my duffel bags from the never-ending supply and started to load it with the cash.  I’d already been gone an hour, and I wanted to be back as soon as possible.  I’d left Lia a little freaked out and wanted to be there with her to keep her calm.  I still wasn’t sure if I should tell her about the price on her head or not.  Maybe she should know—the situation was just too unfamiliar for me, and I didn’t know what I should do.  Every time I thought about telling her, I’d play it over in my mind.  Her reaction was never a good one.

“You buggin’ out?”

My gun was in my hand and pointed at the front door less than a second later.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” I screamed at Jonathan Ferris.  “Are you trying to get a fucking bullet in the head?”

“Well, I don’t have your fucking phone number anymore, asshole,” he replied.  He pulled out a cigarette, shoved it into his mouth unlit, and leaned against the doorjamb.  “How exactly was I supposed ta warn ya I was comin’?”

“Not the fucking point.”  I wasn’t sure what the point was exactly, but I knew that wasn’t it.  “I’m a little on edge here, and doing shit like that is going to get you killed.”

“I’m still standin’.”

“This time.”  I glared at him for a moment before I sat back and leaned against the wall.  I let out a long breath and then holstered my gun.

“You seem a little more trigger-happy than usual,” Jonathan said.  “What’s up with that?”

I ignored the question, opting to pose one of my own instead.

“So, what’s the deal?” I asked.  “Do you just hang around my apartment and wait for me to show up, or did you become psychic when I wasn’t looking?”

Jonathan laughed.  He took a few steps across the room and pulled out the end table next to the couch.  He reached down the leg and pointed out a small electronic device secured there.

“Motion detector,” he said simply.  He held up his smartphone to show me a blinking app with text that read “EVAN’S HOME” across the screen.  “Pretty straightforward, really.”

I rolled my eyes but was mostly annoyed with myself.  I should have realized he’d have lots of ways of knowing where I was and what I was doing.  I would have to be careful about that.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Well, brother,” Jonathan said, “I just wanted to get a look at you and see if I could figure out just what the fuck you think yer doin’.”

“Nothing,” I grumbled.  “I’m not doing anything.”

“Bullshit.”  He lit his cigarette though I doubted he’d forgotten how much I hated people smoking in my apartment.  He did at least eye me with a bit of a grin and then motion to the balcony.

I followed him out and leaned against the rails.  He handed me a pack of Marlboros and his lighter, and we both proceeded to smoke the cigarettes most of the way down before Jonathan finally spoke.

“Lenny’s hit wasn’t unexpected,” he said, “but there were some, shall we say, unexpected themes around it that got me thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” I asked.  I didn’t try to play stupid—like I didn’t know the dude was dead.  It wouldn’t have helped, and I was pretty sure I knew where this conversation was going.

“Military weapon used, near the river and in the daylight, which is pretty bold.  The fixer didn’t bother to wait until he was alone, either, which means a certain level of confidence, ya know?”

I shrugged and tossed the butt of my cigarette on the ground before I lit another one.

“And sometimes…well, sometimes when you’ve been around someone for a long time, you just recognize their work, ya know what I’m sayin’?”

My eyes moved to his, and I knew he wasn’t just making random statements, hoping I was going to give something away.  He knew I wouldn’t be so careless as to let my poker face down, and I knew he wouldn’t be making such proclamations without being a hundred percent sure.

I was going to have to kill him.

My stomach tightened at the thought.  If I was ever going to call anyone in my life a friend, it would be Jonathan.  He was one of the few who never pressed me to tell him about the shit I went through but somehow managed to get me to talk about more of it than I had with most people—even my shrink.  It never felt like prying with him, and he always changed the subject before it got to be too intense for me.

“He already knows, brotha.  I didn’t tell him shit, even when I suspected it, but he still knows.  Too many hits that look like you in the area, and you don’t return his calls.”

“Haven’t received any.”

“You’re workin’ for the competition.  You hate Greco, so what the fuck?”

I didn’t reply.  He had to have figured I wasn’t going to answer something so blunt.

“You ain’t gonna talk, and that’s fine,” he said.  “I don’t know what happened to you in the slammer, and you probably aren’t gonna tell me, but I just figured you ought to know he’ll be gunnin’ for you now.  I can’t stop that shit.”

“I don’t expect you to do me any favors,” I informed him.

“Well, I fuckin’ did anyway,” he replied.

I looked up at him as he stepped closer to me.

“I wanted to give ya somethin’.”  Jonathan pulled out a folded up piece of paper and handed it over to me.  “I know it’s been a while, and I don’t know where we stand now, but I said I’d find out what I could, so I did.”

Tentatively, I reached out and took it from him.  As I unfolded it, the letterhead was instantly familiar—a stylized crucifix within a circle of woven wheat.  There was also a State of Ohio seal on the bottom of the paper, and across the top were the words “Certificate of Adoption” followed by my name.

There were two names on the paper with signatures scrawled below them.  The signatures were just above the words mother and father.  I could feel my pulse in my wrists as I looked over the document confirming my adoption from Alexander Janez and Anita Arden to Sister Margaret Arden.

My maternal grandmother.

I knew who Sister Margaret was—she had often taken care of me and the other children at the orphanage.  She died when I was in seventh grade—around the same time Mother Superior started spending more time with me.

“I confirmed that they’re both deceased now,” Jonathan said.  “So is the nun who adopted you, but there’s addresses on the back that’ll tell you where they’re buried.  You know, in case you wanted to go there or somethin’.”

I couldn’t speak as I stared at the paper and tried to make sense out of it beyond the obvious.  Were they too young to take care of me?  Were they pressured into giving me up by her mother?  Why raise me as an orphan instead of letting me know who my grandmother was?

Jonathan opened the sliding glass door, and I followed him dumbly into the apartment and sat on the couch.  My heart continued to pound.  I could only stare at the paper and try to make some kind of sense out of it.  Questions I had considered far beyond answering were popping into my head though I hadn’t thought about it all in years.  I had decided I didn’t care—whoever my parents were and why they decided to ditch me would always remain a mystery.  Now that I had a smidge of information, I wanted more.

“Well,” Jonathan said quietly, “I just wanted to give ya that.  I’ll leave ya be now.”

I found my voice.

“Hey, Jon?”

“Yeah, brotha?”

“I have something for you.”  I went back into the bedroom to retrieve the “Save Ferris” T-shirt I had bought for him some time ago, still in its plastic bag.  I handed it over to him, and he opened it up.

At first he looked a little confused, and then his eyes darted over to me.

“It ain’t my birthday,” he remarked.

“I missed your birthday.”

“That was six months ago.”

“I bought it in December.”

“Why were you going to kill me in December?”

Jonathan always was a lot more perceptive than he appeared, and I needed to remember that.  I smiled a half smile at him and shrugged.

“I was just checking on something.  You were clean, though.”

“Uh huh,” Jonathan mumbled skeptically.

“I was considering it a few minutes ago, too.”  I smiled a bit more.

Jonathan laughed.

“I guess I’m definitely thankful for this—in more ways than one.  Thanks, brotha.”

We shook hands, and he started for the door.

“Oh yeah,” Jonathan said as he snapped his fingers.  “I got ya something else, too, but I didn’t bring it with me.  Here ya go.”

He fished around in his pocket, came up with a couple lighters, shoved them into the other pocket, and then pulled out a key.  He tossed it to me with a flick of his wrist and walked out the door.

It was a numbered locker key with the name of one of the gyms in the area engraved on it. Far too curious to wait, I made my way to the nearest bus that would take me to the gym.  Inside the locker was a large gym bag.  Sitting on top of the bag was my old phone, containing several dozen messages from Rinaldo, Mark Duncan, and Jonathan.  I looked around to confirm no one was watching me, pocketed the phone, and then quickly unzipped the top of the bag to peek inside.

It was my Barrett.

Nothing could have surprised me more.

Chapter 16—Narrow Miss

As much as I wanted to take my Barrett somewhere private and spend a lot of time with it, I was going to have to wait until I moved Lia to another location.  I tossed the bag over my shoulder, and the familiar weight felt fantastic.  I wasn’t sure how Jonathan had managed to get evidence away from the Chicago police, but I was definitely grateful.

Lia had both herself and Odin ready to go when I arrived.  I called a cab because I didn’t want her seen any more than absolutely necessary, and any form of public transportation wasn’t fast enough for me at this point.  I watched out the window for the cab to arrive and then ushered both Lia and Odin downstairs.

As soon as I walked outside, he was there—the kid with the bomb strapped around his waist.  I tensed and fought against the urge to pull my gun out and start firing.  I closed my eyes, shook my head, and looked again, but he was still there.  He didn’t move—only stood there with tears running down his cheeks.

“Let’s get out of here.”  I opened the back door of the cab and held Lia’s hand as she climbed in.

The cab driver looked more like a chauffeur than a usual cabbie.  He had on one of those captain-style hats and dark glasses.  He helped load Lia’s suitcase into the trunk, and we got on our way with Lia sitting in the center seat so Odin could hang his tongue out the window.

I gave the cabbie directions to a neighborhood in Avondale.  We wouldn’t be staying there—it was just a stopping point to get another cab.  He pulled onto the expressway, and I sat back in the seat and closed my eyes.

Lia leaned over to put her head on my shoulder and spoke softly.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I’ll tell you when we get there,” I replied, keeping my voice low.  “This is just a detour.”

She stayed quiet as we traveled quickly down the center lane.  I scratched Odin’s neck and ears as he sniffed at the corner of the window, occasionally sneezing into the wind.  My mind was occupied enough for the moment that I almost didn’t realize where we were.

“You missed the exit,” I called up front.

“Did I?  Sorry about that.  I’ll get the next one.”

I narrowed my eyes a bit at the face in the rearview mirror.  I was abruptly uneasy and had to fight down the paranoia growing in my gut.  I glanced out the window and half expected to see the kid on the side of the road, but he wasn’t there.  I took a deep breath and tried to center myself.

It didn’t work.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked the driver as he sped past the next exit and continued on the expressway.

“I was going to take Parkview,” he said.  “There’s less traffic.”

“Bullshit!”  Without hesitation, I released the seatbelt, pulled out my gun, and put it next to the driver’s head.  “I’m not putting up with elevated fucking prices from a piece of shit cab driver.  Take the next fucking exit.”

“Evan!  What are you doing!”  Lia grabbed my elbow, but I shook her off and told her to sit back and be quiet.  She huffed at me but did as I said.

“You should listen to Miss Antonio,” the driver said.  “Pointing a gun at the driver isn’t safe for the passengers.  I could get nervous and make a mistake.”

Miss Antonio?  How did he know her name?

“Please, Evan.”

I ignored Lia’s protest.

“I’m going to pull the fucking trigger if you don’t pull over now.”

“No you won’t,” he said.  “If you do that, we’re all meat on the highway.”

Something about his phrase sounded familiar—like I had heard someone else use the same words or something close to them anyway.  The whole thing was off—a real cab driver wouldn’t be reacting this way with a gun in his face.  This guy had been in a similar position before.

He knew Lia’s name.

“Who the fuck are you?” I asked.

“Who me?  I could be anybody.”  The dude smirked as he glanced sideways at me.  “And if you don’t get that piece out of my face, I’m going to ram this car into the fucking barrier.”

I wasn’t going to give him that chance.

I fired.

The driver slumped forward on the wheel.

The car began to turn wildly to the left.

Lia screamed.

With my hands against the side of the bucket seat, I hauled myself into the front and grabbed the wheel.  My legs were still behind me—trapped between the front and back sections of the car—but I at least had my hands on the wheel.  I tried to get it straightened out, but we were heading into the fast lane of traffic and skidding at the same time.  I didn’t want to overcompensate and flip the car.

With the unlikely cabbie’s body sliding into me and trying to push me right off the steering wheel altogether and Lia screaming in the backseat, I tightened my grip on the wheel and managed to ease it to the right just enough to stop the sliding.  We were still heading straight toward another car, though, and I couldn’t get my feet out of the back to bring the rest of my body into the front seat to hit the brake.

“Lia!  Shut up and grab my foot!”

“What?”  There was so much panic in her voice, and I needed her to calm down before we crashed.

The car in front of us swerved into another lane and we whizzed by.

“My foot is stuck,” I said with as much calm as I could.  “Get it unstuck.”

I felt her hands wrap around my boot and give my ankle a painful twist.

“Ow!  Shit!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Just get it out!”

A twist in the other direction still hurt, but my foot popped free, and I pulled it over the center console and pushed it between the dead man’s legs to get to the brake.  I had to kick his leg out of the way but finally felt the pedal against the bottom of my boot.

As I sat in his lap, I managed to slow us down and get over to the side of the expressway with only a handful of horns honking at us.  I didn’t have time for any other bullshit, so I just opened the door, shoved the body out the driver’s side, and sped off again.

Lia was practically hysterical.

“Calm down, baby.”

“I-I-I can’t!”

“Yes, you can,” I corrected softly.  “We’re okay now.”

“You killed the cab driver!”

“He wasn’t a fucking cab driver.”

“What?”

“Just...just hang on for a bit, okay?  I need to ditch this car.”

I pulled off the expressway, onto a side road, and down a narrow street.  It was lined with buildings containing boarded up windows, which was as good a place as any to stop.

“Hold on to Odin,” I instructed.  “I’ll get the shit out of the trunk.  We’ll have to walk a ways and get another cab.”

“Evan, there’s blood all over you.”

“I know.”  I found the trunk release under the steering wheel, ran around to the back of the car, and opened up one of the bags inside.  I pulled out a T-shirt to wipe the blood and tissue off of my face, neck, and arm.  “Did I get it all?”

Lia looked at me with her lip tucked behind her teeth.

“There’s some on your shirt,” she said.

I tore it off, tossed it into the car, not giving a shit about evidence at this point—it’s not like I was going to spend time wiping the car for prints—and dug out another shirt.  As I was pulling it on, Lia bent over at the waist and puked near the back tire as Odin whined and paced about on his leash.

“You okay?” I asked when she was done.  I gave her one of her own shirts to wipe her mouth and hands and took Odin’s leash from her.

“No,” she said in a voice I could barely hear.  “I’m not sure I will be.”

I looked up and down the street.  We needed to get away from the blood-filled car as quickly as possible, and I couldn’t accomplish that with Lia freaking out on me.

“Just relax, baby,” I said, hoping that would help.

It didn’t.

“Relax?  How can you fucking say that?”

At least it got her angry instead of scared.  I could work with that.

“You know the kind of shit I do,” I reminded her.

“Knowing it and seeing it aren’t the same thing,” she said.

I couldn’t argue with her on that one.  Instead, I pulled her close to me and whispered against her ear.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, baby—so sorry.  It was the only thing I could do to keep him from killing you.”

“Killing me?”

There was no point in hiding the truth any longer.  I pulled her closer to my chest and pressed my lips to her hair.

“My former boss, Rinaldo, knows I’ve hooked up with Greco.  He’s taking it out on you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he put a contract out on you.  He’s offering fifteen grand to the person who kills you.”

She tensed in my arms, and her body shuddered.  I knew she was crying even though I couldn’t see her face.  I tightened my hold on her and then pulled back to lead her down the street.  She didn’t resist though I couldn’t get her to go at a pace I considered quick enough.  Odin was also skittish but followed me obediently.

We walked about a dozen blocks before I called another cab company– one I hadn’t used before—from a payphone.  This time, the driver was an Indian guy wearing a flannel shirt that looked like it came right off the George Lucas line but no dark glasses or hat.

He drove us south where we got another cab up north.  A few more similar trips and one bribed bus driver to allow Odin to ride later, we were at a small house in a crappy neighborhood.

“Whose house is this?” Lia asked as we went in.

“Mine,” I replied.  “I bought it a few years ago because I needed a place to lie low every once in a while.”

“Like now?”

“Exactly.”

“You have a bunch of places like this, don’t you?  Just like the cabin in Arizona.”

“Yes.”

“How long will we stay here?”

“Not long,” I told her.  “I don’t think this place could be traced back to me, but you never know, and people are looking for you.”

Lia shuddered again.  She looked like she was about to collapse, so I brought her into the bedroom and quickly found some clean sheets to put on the mattress.  I didn’t even remove her clothes—just hauled her into bed and held her against my chest.

“I don’t know if I can handle all of this,” Lia admitted.  Her arms came up around my neck.

I closed my eyes and touched my forehead to hers.

“That’s why I left,” I whispered.  “I know leaving that note and no explanation was a shit thing to do, but I didn’t want you to be exposed to all this.”

I pulled her closer to me, wanting to feel like I could protect her with just the proximity of my body and knowing at the same time that it wouldn’t work.  I couldn’t protect her mind that way or erase what she’d seen.  She was everything I needed, and I was fucking poison to her.  I’d known it since the beginning, but I’d been too selfish to push her away.

“You’re perfect for me,” I said, “and I’m just…just bad for you.”

Lia reached up and placed her hand against the side of my face as she shook her head slowly.

“You aren’t,” she said.  “This situation is bad, but you’re not.”

“Right,” I scoffed.  “I just killed someone right in front of you.”

Lia flinched, and I immediately felt bad for being so blunt.

“You’re warm,” she said as her body pressed against mine, “and you’re so smart.  You’re gentle, and strong, and handsome.  You’re compassionate and self-sacrificing.”

I shook my head and started to correct her, but she shushed me and stroked over my jaw with her fingers.  I’d been far too preoccupied to shave, and I could hear the slight scratching sound as her fingertips rubbed against the stubble on my face as she continued.

“You went overseas to serve in the best way you could.  You led people in battle.  You were willing to give up your life for someone you didn’t even know.  You stayed strong in your heart, no matter what they did to your body, and never gave them any information even though it might have been easier on you if you had.”

I blinked a couple of times.  I hadn’t really thought about those years in any way other than the negative, and I wasn’t sure how to react to her words.

“You are perceptive,” she continued.  “You always know exactly what I want and need.  You’re loyal and brave.  You have endured so much—far more than any one person should ever have to face—but you kept going.”

“I didn’t endure it,” I replied.  “I cracked.  I totally lost it.”

“Everyone has their breaking point, Evan.  That’s not bad; that’s just being human.”

All I could do was stare at her.  I wanted to deny it all—I wasn’t like that—but it was as if she had wormed her way into my head and dug out all the things I once was and held them to herself as truth.  I wanted to remind her of what I had become since then—a cold-blooded, merciless killer—but I didn’t.

I kissed her instead.  Again and again I kissed her because I didn’t have any words for what I was feeling.

* * *

Back in the hotel room Gavino provided for me, I placed the bag on the table and quickly ditched my clothes to get a shower.  I didn’t bother to shave though I needed to.  I was too anxious to get to my weapon.  Once I was done with the shower, I pulled on my jeans, poured myself a scotch on the rocks, and quickly turned my attention back to the Barrett M82.

Reaching over to the switch, I turned the light on near me so I could see clearly.  The light was low, but it was enough for what I needed.  I silently pulled back the zipper of the gym bag and pulled out the pieces of the sniper rifle slowly and carefully—nearly with reverence.  It was how I felt about the weapon—it had been one of the few constant things in my adult life.  Every time I touched another piece of it, I felt like I was becoming more centered.

With my heart beating a little faster in my chest, I examined each of the pieces, starting with the upper receiver as I removed them from the bag.  I checked for any marks that weren’t there before, checked that the springs were still tight, the impact bumpers weren’t twisted, and the barrel was clean.  There were a few minor scratches on the scope that weren’t there before, but overall, it looked like everything was all right.

I continued my inspection over the bolt carrier group, the lower receiver, and the bipod assembly.  Once I had completed the appraisal, I pulled out a cloth and a small bottle of oil and started to clean it.

I went over each and every part—removing powder residue and deposits from the barrel and then lubricating each piece with oil.  I caressed the smooth metal, and the touch of it in my hands wasn’t unlike touching Lia in the way my mind calmed and focused on the task.  When it was cleaned and oiled to my satisfaction, I began to assemble it.

There was no way I could have adequately expressed how I felt to have my Barrett in my possession again.  I knew it made my fingers tingle to touch it again, and my mind flashed through the many, many times I had fired the weapon.  I remembered handing over seven thousand dollars—all the money I had at the time—just to be able to take it with me when I left the Marines and never regretting leaving myself practically penniless in the process.  I could have bought one on the street for less—government spending and all—but I wanted that one.

Though I never really referred to it as a she or anything like that, if my Barrett were a woman, I would definitely fuck her.

I had to fire it.  Just had to.  The shooting range wasn’t going to be enough, either.  I needed a real, live, soon-to-be-dead target.

Gavino had given me two assignments over the last few days, and it was time to take care of one of them.  I had already completed most of the recon on a particular coke dealer named Henry Martin.  He kept coming up short on his payments to Gavino, and his excuses were becoming less and less believable.  Gavino wanted to make him an example, and I knew exactly where to find him.

Henry Martin was into hookers far more than I had ever been.  He would go through a half dozen of them in a week, and I knew where he’d been picking them out lately.  I also knew of a nice, tall building right down the street with a perfectly unobstructed view of the corner where he would likely pick up a whore.

I didn’t even have to wait long.

From the top floor of a high-rise apartment building, I located myself inside an abandoned unit at the far edge and watched Henry’s eighties-style Cadillac pull up to the corner.  The position gave me a clear view of the area I was targeting on the other side of the river, and no one would be able to locate which unit I was in even if the shot was heard.

Without even using the bipod, I held the weapon up against my chest.  I closed my eyes for a moment and reveled in the feeling of the Barrett’s stock against my shoulder and my hand on the grip.  I opened my eyes again to look down the scope, make a couple of minor adjustments, and wait for Henry to position his car at just the right angle.

He seemed happy to comply.

I took a deep breath and slowly let it out through my mouth.  As soon as all the air was out of my lungs, I pulled back on the trigger.

The kickback was welcomed.  The scent of the blast entered my nose, and there was no way a hot meal on Christmas Eve ever smelled any better.  I didn’t even care so much that the shot was perfect, clean, and precise—it was just having my rifle with me again that mattered.

As I slid the window closed, I couldn’t hear the screams of the hooker who had been leaning up against the car.  I stood slowly, caressed the barrel, and quickly disassembled the rifle to put it back in the bag and make my exit.  I went back to the hotel room and cleaned the whole weapon again just because I could.

Nothing could have completed me more than having my Barrett back.

Chapter 17—Altered Plans

“We spend too much time on this cargo,” Rurik was saying to Gavino as we all sat around his office and discussed the plans for the next shipment of human cargo.  “We should focus on real money—drugs and caviar.”

“We must see this through.” Andrey shook his head.  “We were cheated with the last batch Jenna picked up, and we must be sure we are not cheated again.”

“We weren’t cheated,” Jenna muttered.  “It’s not like they crossed us on purpose.”

“You don’t know that,” Gavino growled.  “That’s why you need a babysitter this time.”

“I am not babysitter!” Rurik shouted.

Andrey responded harshly in Russian, but Rurik was not to be dissuaded.

“You go, then!” Rurik said to the other Russian.  “You go be caretaker for babies, and I will take care of caviar.  Micah and I have more important businesses.”

Andrey glanced at Gavino, who only shrugged.  Micah remained uncharacteristically silent.

“One of you must be there,” he said.  “You want to be a bigger part of this organization, then you are going to represent.”

“It is dangerous,” Andrey remarked.

“Evan will be there for our safety.”

Rurik snorted and shook his head.  I leaned back in my seat and raised my eyebrows at him as I took out a cigarette, and they all continued to argue over who was going to be where.  Ultimately, Rurik talked his way out of the trip, and Andrey was assigned to go in his place.

He seemed very pleased with what was a very minor victory, I thought.  Too pleased.  If I gave a rat’s ass about Rurik, I might have paid more attention, but I didn’t.

I should have.

The meeting broke up, and I stood to leave.  I needed to get all the details to Trent quickly so he would get off my ass about it.

Jenna brushed up beside me as we were leaving.

“It looks like we’ll be working together in a couple weeks,” I said.

I stepped out of Gavino’s office building and into the cool wind as it blew down the street from the lake, signifying the beginning of fall.  Jenna had followed me out, which she often did when we had a little group chat with the boss.  It usually turned into a heavy make out session, but we hadn’t done anything else.

It still left me feeling uneasy every time it happened, but I kept telling myself it was part of the job.

Jenna leaned against me and wrapped her arms around my body to grip my ass and pull me against her.  I’d spent six weeks lying low with Lia—moving her around and making sure no one was following us—and avoiding Jenna.  It also meant Lia was right there in my sights the whole time, so I could be sure she was safe.  Though I’d kept in contact with Gavino and done a few jobs for him, for the most part, we stayed in hiding.

“Mmm…yes, working together will be nice.”  Her mouth found mine, and I did my best to seem receptive.

Even as I made out with her, my thoughts were focused on the plan that lay ahead of me.

Gavino was leaving his office with his goons to get their side of everything organized.  The plans had been laid out for picking up a shipment of girls from Haiti, and I was supposed to go along as protection for the group.  Gavino was going because he was an idiot.

Well, that wasn’t his reason, but it was still true.  No one as high up in an organization like his should be anywhere near those kinds of goods, but he seemed to think it was the only way he could guarantee the cargo was what he wanted.  The last shipment came loaded with some contagious disease, and the cargo was practically unsellable.

It was a sick, twisted business to be in at all, and that was from the point of view of a killer.

Jenna seemed perfectly fine with the whole thing, which was also fairly disturbing.  Maybe spending time with Lia was making me soft or something, but the more I was around Jenna, the less I liked her.

It’s just part of the job, I reminded myself.

“When are you going to give this to me?” Jenna hummed against my mouth as her hand found its way to my cock….again.

“Maybe it’ll be your reward for a job well done,” I responded.  I nipped at her lip before I stepped back a bit and smiled at her.  “I gotta get prepared.”

“Prepared?” she asked as she gave me a look of disbelief.  “What do you do besides aim and shoot?”

“It helps to have ammo,” I told her.  “I need to go shopping.”

Ammo shopping was probably the male equivalent of a chick claiming she needed to wash her hair, but it got me out of the situation for the time being.  I had enough for the job as it stood, but I was going to stock up anyway.  I had the feeling additional ammunition was going to be necessary at some point, and the last thing I needed was to run out.  I also had to meet with Trent and couldn’t have Jenna delaying me too long.

Trent went above and beyond to be a total dickhead.

“Playing hide-and-seek with your bitch?” he said as he sat down across from me and smirked.

I leaned against the plush seat in the 676 Bar and tried to keep my cool.  Though it was near the window, I made sure I was carefully blocked from street view.

“Not sure what you mean,” I replied.  It was better to sit back and let Trent be an asshole than to let him get to me, though it was difficult a lot of the time.  He was a master at pushing my buttons.

“Well, you moved out of that posh place on Kingsbury to a crappy little shack up north,” Trent said with a smile.  “Now you’ve ditched that one for an apartment downtown.  Much more convenient.”

And the paranoia button was pressed most decisively.

“Keep the fuck away from her,” I growled under my breath.  “You keep pushing me like this, Trent, and I don’t give a fuck who you are and who you work for—I will fuck you up.”

He laughed.

“You can’t touch me,” he said, “or all the evidence goes straight to the courts.  You know I have that set up.”

I did, too.  It didn’t stop me from wanting to put a nice, round hole between his eyes.

“You go too far and I’ll no longer give a shit.”

Trent leaned in close.

“You can’t scare me, Arden,” he said.  “I have you by the short and curlies, so cut the shit and give me my information.”

Every muscle in my body tensed, and I wanted to spring at him and rip out his throat, but I forced myself to loosen up enough to give him what he wanted.

“The shipment will be here in five days,” I told him, “October nineteenth, right before midnight.  Greco will be there and so will Andrey but not Rurik.  I’m going along as protection for the shipment.  He’s nervous; there’s no doubt about that.  Jenna screwed up the last time, and Greco doesn’t want it happening again.  Just remember, if you’re busting people, I’m your fucking informant.  I don’t expect to be hauled away in cuffs, got it?”

“That won’t happen,” he said.  “You have my word.”

Like I could trust that.

“It better not,” I said.  “I have some insurance as well, you know.  If I go down with this, you aren’t going to live to regret it, capicse?”

“Since when are you Italian?”

“Do we have a fucking understanding?” I pressed, ignoring his comment.

“I already said it wasn’t going to happen,” he snapped back.  “Now who’s being pushy?”

I folded my arms over my chest and stared at him.

“Where’s the drop off?” he asked.

“Just north of Roosevelt by the south branch of the river, the power substation, and the railroad tracks.”

“I know the place,” he said with a nod.  “Where will you be?”

“There’s a building right there in the yard,” I said.  “I’ll be on top of it.”

“Well, that’s nice and close, isn’t it?  I take it you’re sniping again.”

I didn’t see any reason to respond to him, but I did watch him closely.  There was something about the way he was sitting and the slight contraction of the muscles around his eyes that told me he was hiding something.  Either he was trying to get me to let something slip, or he knew something I didn’t and was thinking about it intently, but I didn’t know which.

There was definitely something wrong.  I felt it during our last in-person meeting as well, but I still couldn’t quite figure out what it was—something about the location or about sniping, maybe.  I didn’t get the impression he was lying outright, but he was definitely keeping something from me—something vitally important.

“Why don’t you just spit it out?” I asked as I continued to stare at him intently.

His eyes tensed a bit more, and he reached for his drink—a distraction and delay tactic, most certainly.  He didn’t respond other than to smile his nasty little smile at me before he got up and left.

I found myself wondering why his eyes looked so familiar, but shook my head to remove the thought.  I’d never met him before—I was sure of that.

* * *

The day before Jenna’s shipment was to arrive, I moved Lia and Odin to a nice apartment close to the area where the whole thing was going to go down and gave her instructions to keep everything packed up and ready to roll.  I had my hopes up that all of this was going to go smoothly, and once Trent had Gavino in custody, I could just grab Lia and get the hell out of town.  Once I had her safely away and Trent had turned over the evidence he had on me, I would contact Rinaldo and explain everything.

Telling Lia exactly what was going on didn’t seem like a great idea to me, so I had told her nothing about the shipment of people destined to go into slavery.  Though I expected everything to work out, I didn’t want to get her hopes up.  Surprising her by packing up and leaving the city behind us seemed like the better plan.  I was getting excited about the prospect of leaving with her and Odin, though, and couldn’t completely hide that.

“You’re in a good mood.”

I kissed Lia’s cheek and grabbed her ass just for good measure.

“I like seeing you when I walk in the door,” I told her as I crouched down and rubbed Odin’s head.  “You look fucking hot in the kitchen.”

“Is that mostly because you know I’m making you dinner?”

“Maybe.” I shrugged and laughed.  I wasn’t about to explain how much being able to use my sniper rifle meant to me or how good it felt to have it close by—I was pretty sure she wasn’t going to understand.  Instead of explanations, I played fetch with Odin for a few minutes while Lia loaded up plates with steak, green beans, and baked potatoes.

After dinner, I shoved all the plates aside and pulled Lia to her feet.  With one hand, I bent her over the table as I unclasped my belt with the other.  Her jeans and panties quickly found their way to the floor right before I entered her.

I loved to fuck her from behind because it gave me the perfect view of her ass.  It was the most beautiful ass I’d ever seen, and I still hadn’t fucked it.  I slowed down my thrusts a little as I sucked on my little finger for a moment.

“Do you know how much I want your ass?” I asked her.

Lia’s panting breaths were the only answer I received as I started thrusting into her faster.

“Tell me to stop if you want me to,” I said as I slowly spread her cheeks and rubbed around her backdoor with my finger.

“Evan…”

“You want me to stop?” I really, really hoped she didn’t.

“What are you going to do?”  She bit down on her lip as she looked back at me, her eyes cautious.  I didn’t want to push her.

“Just my finger,” I replied.  “That’s all.  If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

More panting and a quick nod was her reply.

I slowed my penetrations again and gently eased my finger into her hole.  I heard her gasp, and I paused for a moment before going farther, knuckle by knuckle until my finger was all the way in.  My hips moved slowly back and forth, and I started matching the rhythm with my hand.

“You like it?” I asked.  I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it.

“Yes.”  Lia’s breath came out in a gasp as I increased the tempo.

“I want my cock in there, you know.”

“I know you do.”  She nodded quickly.

“Does that scare you?”

“A little.”

“I’d never hurt you,” I swore to her.

“I know.”

“Next time.”  I drilled into her with both my finger and my cock until she was rocking frantically on the table and screaming out my name over and over again.  With a grunt, I filled her and collapsed on top of her for a moment to catch my breath.

“That was intense,” Lia said.

“That’s the idea,” I replied.  “Think of how much more intense it would be with my cock in your ass.”

“I’m not so sure,” she said, still hesitant.

I helped her off the table and yanked my pants back up.  Lia gathered up her own clothes and dressed as Odin watched us intently, hoping for a trip outside.

“I think maybe if I was prepared beforehand, you know?” Lia suggested.

I waggled my eyebrows at her.

“Not like that!”  She sighed at me and put her hands on her hips.  “I mean, give me a little warning so I can mentally prepare.”

I reached out and fingered the quarter around her neck.

“So if I said let’s do anal tomorrow night, would that count as warning?”

“Well…yeah, I guess so.”

I dropped the coin back against her skin.

“Hey, Lia, let’s do anal tomorrow night.”

She laughed and smacked my chest.

“I’m serious,” I said.

She looked up at me for a minute as she gnawed on her lip and contemplated.

“Okay,” she finally said.

I was ecstatic.

I should have known it wouldn’t last.

* * *

That night, my dreams took a different tone.

“Evan, what are you doing?”

“I was trying to find something to keep warm,” I say through chattering teeth.

“Why aren’t you using your blanket?”

I look at her, confused, but then realize it might be a test.

“It’s a sin,” I say.

“What is?”

“Covering.”

“Why do you say that?”

I narrow my eyes.

“Father Paul said so,” I tell her.  “Thou shalt not cover.”

Sister Margaret laughs softly, reaches out, and hugs me to her.

“Oh, Evan,” she sighs, “it’s covet, not cover.  Thou shalt not covet.  It means to want something that belongs to someone else.”

I furrow my brow as I consider this new information.

“Like Heather’s Game Boy?”

“Yes,” Sister Margaret says, “just like that.”

“So I already sinned?” I ask.  “I do want one.”

“Let’s pray about it, shall we?  Then you can get covered up and go to sleep.”

I woke with the memory still in my head.  I listened to Lia’s breathing for a few minutes before shoving myself out of bed and heading to the shower.  I brought my razor in with me and shaved in front of the little steam-proof mirror on the shower wall.

“Evan, your phone is ringing!”

“Which one?” I asked as I stuck my head out the shower door.

“The iPhone.”

“Can you bring it here?”  I turned off the water and stepped out onto the bathmat.  Lia came into the room with the phone in her hand, and I quickly glanced at the number.

Rinaldo.

There was no way any good would come out of a conversation with him, but I answered anyway.

“Yes, sir?”

“So you do still know how to use a phone,” he said.  He didn’t give me a chance to respond.  “Just tell me if it’s true or not, Arden.”

His voice was cold.

“I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“The fuck you don’t!” he yelled loud enough that I had to hold the phone away.  I looked up at Lia and motioned her out of the room.

“Take the price off her head,” I said when Rinaldo went quiet.  “I don’t have anything to say to you until you get rid of that contract.”

“It got your attention, didn’t it?  At least you answer the fucking phone.”

“I didn’t have my phone until recently,” I replied.  “Confiscated along with a lot of shit from my apartment.”

“You never used to be a man of excuses.”

“Things change.”

“Apparently.”  There was a long pause.  “Tell me why.  You knew I was going to get you out of there—so why?”

“Revoke the contract.”

“No.”

“Then I don’t have anything else to say.”

“Is it the money?  Jesus, Evan—I paid you more than anyone else in my outfit for a job.”

“I know, sir.”

“So, what is it?” Rinaldo demanded.

I wanted to tell him, but if he suddenly stopped being concerned about me, the information would get back to Gavino.  If he suspected me, I’d be screwed.

“Everything happens for a reason,” I said simply.  “Sometimes you don’t get to know what the reason is, though.”

There was another long moment of silence from the other end of the phone.

“So that’s it?” he asked.

“For now.”

“I’m disappointed,” Rinaldo said, his voice tight.  “The contract stays, and yours is added.  I can’t have you working for the competition, Arden.  We’re done now.”

He hung up.

“Fuck,” I muttered.  I placed the phone down on the bathroom counter and looked up.  Lia was peeking in the doorway.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“No one.”

“Evan…”

“It doesn’t matter.”  I shook my head and headed back into the shower.

I probably should have just stayed half-shaven.  When I got out, Lia was sitting on the bed, waiting for me with my phone in her hands.

“I didn’t mean to look at it,” she said before I could ask her anything.  “It wouldn’t stop beeping, and I didn’t want to interrupt again.”

“What is it?” I asked.

She handed the phone to me.  There was a text message on it from Jonathan.

$1 mil.  Every fucker in the nation will be gunning for you.

“Shit.”

“I’m pretty sure I know what that means,” Lia said.  “He’s after you now, too, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a lot of money.”

“Enough to bring every contract killer known to man to Chicago.”

“Jesus, Evan!  What are you going to do?”

“Stay out of the crosshairs,” I replied.  “We’ll probably have to move again.  I’m hoping today will bring me the information I need to get us out of the area altogether, but if the price stays on my head, it’s not going to be enough.  I can only hope Rinaldo will listen to me when it’s all over.”

I went over to the dresser and grabbed the SIG handgun.  I checked the chamber, made sure it was loaded, and flicked the safety on before walking back to Lia and handing it to her.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“It’s a gun,” I smirked.  “If you need it, use it.”

“Evan, I’ve never shot a gun in my life!”

“It’s easy,” I informed her.  “Just point it, click the safety off, and pull the trigger.”

Lia furrowed her brow but then nodded and dropped her head down to look at the phone in her other hand.

“Evan?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Who’s the woman on the phone with you?”

I glanced at her and then activated the phone.  The picture of me with Bridgett standing in front of The Bean was displayed as the background image.  I had completely forgotten it was there.

“No one.”  I said as I walked out of the room.

“I’m not trying to pry,” Lia said as she followed me out.  “It’s just that you’ve never talked about any old girlfriends or anything.”

“She wasn’t my girlfriend.”

“Well, she obviously meant something to you.  You haven’t mentioned a sister, either.”

“I don’t have any family.”

She grabbed my upper arm with her hand, and I stopped and turned around.

“What?” I asked, somewhat tersely.

“Who is she?” Lia asked again.  “I don’t like the evasiveness here.”

My hands were shaking just slightly.  I could tell by the look in her eye that she wasn’t going to let it go.  I was going to have to tell her something, and once I did, she was going to wish she’d never asked.

“She was a hooker,” I said, hoping that would be enough.  “Those are the kind of girls I’m used to—hookers.”

Lia narrowed her eyes a bit.

“She doesn’t look like a hooker.  She’s all dressed up.”

“Christ, Lia—drop it before I actually tell you!”

“Tell me what?”

I dislodged myself from her grip and went to the closet for my duffel bag of weapons.

“Evan-”

“I have to go to work,” I said.  I brushed her aside as I grabbed my Beretta and holstered it under my arm.  As I moved toward the door, I made the mistake of looking back at her eyes.

The look on Lia’s face tore at my heart.  I didn’t want her to know any of this.  I didn’t even want her to know Bridgett ever existed, and now she was pushing me for the real story—a story that was going to scare the shit out of her.

Maybe she should know.  Maybe she has a right to know what I did.

“She betrayed me,” I said quietly.  “I killed her.”

I turned around and left the apartment.

Nothing I did after that was right.

Chapter 18—Double Cross

It was nine-thirty in the evening, and I was scouting out the best position for sniping on the rooftop near the drop-off location.  I wasn’t actually planning on doing any shooting—I had no target selected, and Gavino had ordered me here just for the sake of protecting the group if something went wrong, but I already knew it was going to go to hell in a handbasket shortly after midnight, and I wasn’t going to save them from that.

Trent said he had a whole SWAT team at the ready, and they would be there just in time to catch Gavino Greco and his collection of illegally imported human slaves.  He’d go away for life if he was lucky.  I was at a safe enough distance that I wasn’t concerned about being caught up in the bust, assuming Trent wasn’t planning on sending someone to my location to grab me.

Of course, I wasn’t where I told him I was going to be.  I was on top of a funky, S-shaped condominium complex on the other side of the river.  It had a better view and a lot more cover than the building near the substation next to the rail yard, but mostly, it was a perfect location because it was not where Trent thought I would be.

The more I had thought about his obvious deception during our last conversation, the more I was convinced he planned on screwing me over.  He’d go back on the deal and have me arrested along with the rest of them.  Maybe he’d try to keep me under his thumb and use me again, and maybe he’d just let me rot, but he definitely wasn’t planning on keeping our agreement.  I was sure of it.

I found the perfect spot and got myself set up near the railings at the top of the building.  There were a few little garden areas around, as well as some tables and chairs for residents, but the area was closed after nine and no one was about.  There was also easy access back down to the ground via a long flight of stairs that led to the parking lot.  I pulled the Barrett out of its bag and quickly assembled it, carefully going through a complete functions check.  I made sure there was a bolt in the chamber before sitting back and eating the sandwich I had tucked away in the bag.

No reason to kill on an empty stomach.

I tapped my foot against the ornately tiled roof, checked the night-vision scope to make sure everything was functioning correctly, and sat back again.  I didn’t mind the waiting—I was used to it—but this little mission had a different feel than most.  Assuming everything went well, it could very well be my last.  It was what I wanted.

At least, I thought it was what I wanted.

Reaching out, I slid my hand down the barrel of the Barrett and wondered if I could be completely satisfied using it only for target practice at a shooting range.  It was what Lia wanted, and I understood completely.  I mean, what woman would actually choose to live with a guy who was a killer?

If I stopped shooting people, would that mean I wasn’t a killer anymore?

I wasn’t so sure.

Eleven o’clock.  I scanned the entire area using the night-vision scope and saw nothing out of the ordinary.  This area of town was becoming more and more run-down, and not a lot of people were around this time of night.  Even the condos beneath me were mostly empty.

Across the river, there was a large building in the center of a huge concrete slab that served as a parking and storage area for a large power substation.  There were a few other outbuildings around, a handful of vehicles, and the substation itself.  Around the edge near the river were a few short trees and shrubs, as well as a fence that lined the property but didn’t disrupt my view from up high.

For good measure, I spun the Barrett around and checked out the area behind me.  There were a few homeless people wandering around, but no one close enough to hear me shoot with the silencer attached.  Once I confirmed there was nothing of concern behind me, I repositioned the rifle and scanned the area across the river again.

Movement.

I saw Jenna and the two goons who usually accompanied her step out of a van at the far side of the parking area near the substation.  They crossed in front of the building on foot.  I focused my scope on Jenna’s face as she looked up in my direction.  I knew she couldn’t really see me from where she was.  Like Gavino and the rest of his group, she knew where I was going to be.  I had only deceived Trent on my location.

I moved the scope away from her and scanned around the building again.  Each side was clear of people and trucks, which gave me a clear view of the drop-off area.  I checked the other small sheds around but saw nothing.  There was a small grouping of outbuildings to my left with a pickup truck parked next to them but nothing else.

As I began to scan the top of the main building in the lot, something caught my eye.  Next to one of the air conditioning units, there was a slightly darker shape that had not been there earlier.  I watched for a full minute, but it didn’t move.  I narrowed my eyes and waited just a bit longer before I decided I must have missed it before.

That was when the slightest of motions brought me to full attention.

I focused the scope carefully on the shape I had seen.  It was slightly rounded and black.  It moved to the left, improving my viewpoint.  With the night vision on the scope kicking in fully, I knew exactly what it was—another sniper.

He was setting up a rifle behind the air conditioner on the building across the river from me.  It was the same building on which I had told Trent I would be located.  Would he have sent a SWAT sniper to the same location?  It would have been a shitty move if he had.

The sniper’s upper body became visible as he laid out his rifle and got into position behind it.

I shifted my stance to make myself harder to spot from my vantage point before I focused my sites on the other sniper.  Male, Caucasian, setting up a Dragunov rifle—a nice, Soviet-made one that dated back to the sixties but was still a powerful gun.  From what I could tell, it only had a five-bolt magazine on it, which would put him at a disadvantage from the one I used.  Though Barretts usually held ten-round magazines, mine held twelve.

As I watched him closely, I knew something wasn’t quite right.  He wasn’t wearing a flak jacket for starters, and all feds wore them when they went after someone.  His position wasn’t quite right, either.  He was on the south side of the roof, which gave him cover but not the best vantage point, considering where I told Trent the exchange would take place.  It was like he didn’t know where they were going to conduct business and was going with the position that gave him the best view of the whole area.

No flak jacket and doesn’t know where to aim.

Definitely not a fed.

Who then?

There weren’t that many options as far as I could tell.  Did Gavino hire another sniper?  Unlikely. I was the only well-trained one in the city, and he’d have to go out of state to find someone trained on the weapon in this guy’s hands.  Had the feds hired an independent from somewhere or maybe recruited out of the military?  Also unlikely. Marines and Army alike preferred Barrett rifles.

Russian?  He was using a Russian weapon though it was a common enough one.  Was he one of Andrey’s men?  Andrey and Rurik had definitely been at odds about this activity, and either one of them might have decided to send a little added insurance, but I didn’t quite buy it.  If either of them had another sniper, they would have had a lot more fuel against me when we first sat down to make a deal.

It wasn’t right, and all my instincts told me to get the fuck out.

I couldn’t do that though.  I had to make sure this went down the way it was supposed to so I could get Lia out of Chicago.  Instead of listening to my gut, I scanned the rest of the area with the night scope and found a few other figures who were not with Greco’s organization and definitely not part of a SWAT team—six of them altogether and four of them positioned in places that didn’t make sense.  They couldn’t have known enough about what was going to happen, or they would have been in better positions.

Not feds, not with either Gavino’s org or the Russians, so who?

It was the seventh that eventually made me realize what was going on, but I didn’t see him until a half-dozen SUVs were pulling up.  By the time I had focused the scope on his position, one of the vehicles parked in my line of sight.  If I had managed a good look at him earlier, maybe things would have gone differently.

“Fucker,” I muttered.  “Couldn’t you move over three feet?”

I tried to get a glimpse through the windows of the SUV, but it wasn’t working out very well.  I could see a human shape, but that was it.  The tint on the windows wasn’t dark enough to block my vision entirely, but it interfered enough to make it impossible to get any detail.

Gavino, Craig, Andrey, and a half-dozen others exited the vehicles and walked toward Jenna.  The drivers stayed in the cars in case a quick getaway was needed.  Words were exchanged, but I couldn’t hear any of it from where I was.  I could see the demeanor of my faux coworkers though.  Andrey danced back and forth between his feet, showing how nervous he was about this, even from my view.  Jenna was incensed because she didn’t want them evaluating her work in the first place, and Gavino just looked as cocky as ever.

I wasn’t going to miss him.

With a rumble and screech of airbrakes, a semi with a long trailer pulled into the area.  Jenna and her crew moved to the driver’s side door as a guy with a long ponytail exited the cab of the truck and handed Jenna a clipboard.  Gavino and Andrey joined them, looked over the paperwork, and then Gavino motioned to the back of the truck.

They all followed the driver as he opened up the back and grabbed a girl out of it.  He shut the door again before yanking her over to Gavino and Andrey.  She was quite obviously terrified as she was questioned by Gavino and fondled by Andrey.

Jenna had her hands on her hips and was obviously not happy with whatever was being said.  She tossed her hands up in the air as Andrey led the girl over to the SUV he arrived in and pulled her into the backseat.  I moved the scope away from the scene when I realized what he was planning.

I didn’t need to watch that shit.

Jenna was pointing a finger and speaking quickly to Gavino, but it obviously didn’t matter what she said.  He turned away from her and talked to the truck driver for a minute before motioning to Craig, who was still by the vehicles.

As I moved my scope to Craig’s area, I saw the person I hadn’t gotten a good view of before as he moved a little closer to the building to get out of Craig’s line of sight.  He was a big guy, dressed all in black and had a dark cap on his head.  The clothing didn’t matter, though, because I got a clear view of his face.

Mario Leone.

Mario was Rinaldo’s bodyguard and was never far away from his boss without a damn good reason.  There was absolutely no reason for him to be here at a cargo drop-off for Gavino’s organization—none whatsoever.  He certainly wouldn’t be here without his boss knowing about it.

As my muscles tightened, I checked out the whole area again.  Back behind the main building was another smaller structure right next to the substation.  There was a familiar car beside it—one that had not been there before.

If I had been on top of the main building where I had told Trent I would be, I probably would have seen it pull up.  From where I was, the scope’s vision was narrow enough that I missed it.  Beside the car were three more people.  Two I didn’t recognize, but one I knew very well.

Rinaldo.

“Oh fuck, no.”

I immediately reached into my jeans and yanked out my phone.  I hit his number and watched him through the scope as he glanced down, pulled his own phone out of his pocket, and glared down at the display.  His eyes looked up to the closest building—right where the other sniper was located—and then started scanning the other tall buildings within view.

Through the vision in the scope, it looked like his eyes found me, but I was too far away for him to see.  I watched him turn away slightly and touch his hand to his ear.  Then he pressed a button on the side of his phone and shoved it back into his pocket.

“Answer the fucking phone,” I growled as I called again.

He didn’t.  Instead, he touched his hand to his ear again and looked up toward the other sniper.

“Fuck.”

I dropped down flat against the concrete roof as a bolt whizzed right past my ear.  Who was paying the sniper was now completely clear, at least.  I grabbed the Barrett and quickly focused on the sniper across the way as another shot rushed past me.

He was reloading—not even looking down the scope as I pulled back on the trigger and watched his body slump.   Grabbing my phone back off the ground, I typed out a quick text message, hoping Rinaldo would at least read the first bit before deciding to ignore me again.

GET OUT NOW FEDS ON THE WAY

He didn’t even glance at the phone.

“Motherfucker!”

Thinking about the consequences of what I was going to do didn’t even really enter my mind—I just knew I had to get to him and make him listen to me.  If he wasn’t going to look at the phone, I had only one other choice.

Though I couldn’t hear them, I could see the increase in activity across the river.  The shots from the other sniper had been heard, and people were starting to duck into and behind their vehicles as they tried to determine who was the shooter and who was the target.

I grabbed the Barrett by the carrying handle without even bothering to disassemble it first and tossed my duffel bag over my shoulder.  I pulled the bipod assembly up against the bottom of the barrel and held the gun against my side as I raced to the stairwell.  There were only twelve stories, so it didn’t take long for me to get down the stairs and out into the parking lot.

Now I had a problem.  I didn’t have a vehicle with me.  The quickest way to get to Rinaldo was likely by boat—there were several right there at the dock next to the condos.  However, it made me about as easy a target as I could be.  There was no way I could wait for a bus at this point, so my options became limited.

I looked around until I saw an older model pickup truck and ran over to it just as I heard another shot from across the river.  Less than a moment later, I felt a hot, searing streak across the back of my shoulder.

I dove down behind the truck on the side away from the river and tried to ignore the pain in my back.  It hurt like a bitch, but I didn’t think it had done much more than graze my skin.  Reaching up, I grasped the door handle, but the truck was locked.

The butt end of the Barrett made quick work of the truck’s window, and I reached in to unlock it.  Once inside, I huddled underneath the steering wheel and yanked open the panel.  Three pairs of wires dangled below me, and I hoped the older truck had wires with conventional coloring.  I started with a pair of brown wires, using my fingernails to strip the plastic off the ends and was rewarded with dash lights.  The red pair of wires was next, and I knew I had the right ones when a little jolt of electricity ran up my arm as I tried to strip them manually.

I slid the stripped wires against each other, and the truck’s engine roared loudly in the otherwise quiet night.

I only had a couple of blocks to travel to get across the river and over to the rail yard, but it took me well out of the sniper’s view as I went around buildings and across the river.  I ditched the truck on the street just above the tracks, taking a minute to remove the bipod and silencer from my Barrett to drop the weight a bit.  It wasn’t really meant to be shot without the stabilization, but I had done it before.  Carrying the heavy weapon in both hands, I made my way around the fence and through some trees.  I was on the wrong side of the yard—I needed to get to the other side where Rinaldo was without Gavino seeing me.

At least I wasn’t being shot at anymore.

Racing over to the substation, I moved quickly and quietly down the length of it.  Any sounds would be masked by the hum of the power grid, but I was still cautious.  There had to be at least one other sniper in position, and I had no idea where he was.

On the other side of the substation was the small building where Rinaldo had been.  I came around the back of it slowly and saw his car on the other side.  He was standing slightly behind it and talking in low tones to two men I didn’t recognize.

Not knowing exactly how he was going to react, I kept a good grip on my rifle, but didn’t quite aim it at him.

“Rinaldo!”  I both yelled and whispered all at the same time, which had the desired effect, even if the action was an oxymoron.

Rinaldo turned quickly, and the gun in his hand pointed in my direction.

“Don’t shoot!” I called out in that same voice.  “You gotta listen to me.  You gotta get out of here.”

“Arden, you son of a bitch,” Rinaldo growled.  “I’ll save a lot of money just killing you myself!”

I raised the Barrett up to my shoulder.

“You have to listen to me!”

“You weren’t interested in talking, Arden,” Rinaldo said.  “And I am now no longer interested in listening.”

He leveled the gun at me, and I had no idea what I should do.  I couldn’t shoot him with the Barrett from this distance without making a huge mess.  If I had the Beretta instead, I might have at least tried to shoot his gun out of his hand.

I was out of options.

“The feds are on their way!” I finally said.  “They wanted you, and I couldn’t let them do that, so I gave them Greco!  They’ve got me for Ashton’s murder, and it was the only way to keep you out of it!”

“You working with feds?” Rinaldo hissed.  “You hate the fucking government.”

“They have my DNA from Ashton’s body,” I told him.  “There wasn’t any getting out of that one.  They were going to use it against me and against Lia.  He wanted me to turn over enough information to take you out, but I wouldn’t do that, sir.  I couldn’t.  We made a deal to bring Greco down, and that’s exactly what’s about to happen here.”

Rinaldo’s eyes scanned my face for a moment, and he dropped his gun slightly.

“They threatened your girl, this Lia Antonio, and you still wouldn’t turn me over?”

“No, sir.  I couldn’t do that.”

Rinaldo’s hand went up to the top of his head and ran over the length of his receding hairline.  He looked at me intently, lowered his gun completely, and let out a huge sigh.

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

“I couldn’t,” I said as I lowered my weapon and walked to him cautiously.  “If Greco had any suspicions about my loyalty, it wouldn’t have worked.  It had to look like you were after me, too.  It was the only way I could protect you.”

“But now you tell me?”

“That’s why I came over here,” I explained.  “The feds are coming to pick him up right now.  You have to get out of the area before they show up.  You aren’t supposed to be here at all.”

Rinaldo nodded.

“They have my caviar in there,” Rinaldo said as he nodded toward the truck.  “They are stealing from me again.  I can’t let Greco continue to make me out as the fool.  I could give up the shipment to see him picked up with it, though.”

“Caviar?” I questioned.  “There’s no caviar—just human cargo.”

“I have it on good authority,” Rinaldo said.  “My caviar is in the back of that truck.”

“Who told you that?”

“A man who has been working with us since I lost you,” Rinaldo said, and then his eyes widened.  “Shit, Evan—he’s going after your woman right now.”

He might as well have punched me in the gut.

“What?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“Double-crossing little shit!”  Gavino Greco marched around the corner with Craig, Andrey, Jenna, and Jenna’s goons.  “Rurik warned me not to trust you, and I should have listened!”

I wasn’t sure who fired first, only that within seconds, the two men with Rinaldo were on the ground and there was a hailstorm of gunfire in the area.  I took cover with Rinaldo behind his car as he began to fire toward Gavino, Andrey, and Craig.

A van pulled up beside us, and several of Rinaldo’s men jumped out, weapons at the ready.  A shot to Andrey’s shoulder sent him reeling backwards, and he began to crawl toward his SUV.  The girl he had dragged back there was trying to get out as he reached the driver’s side door, and she was hit by a stray bullet.

“The truck!” Rinaldo yelled as he pointed.

The driver of the semi-truck was behind the wheel trying to pull out.  I pulled up my Barrett, used the bumper of the car as a stabilizer, and took aim.  My ears rang with the blast, and I watched the bolt go right through the truck’s engine with a massive explosion.  The wheels screeched, the cab flew off to one side, but the trailer didn’t go with it.  One more carefully aimed shot from my weapon and the cab, spinning in a giant ball of fire, was disconnected from the trailer.

The trailer skidded to a stop, somehow managing to remain upright despite the gaping hole in the front of it.  The screams coming from inside could be heard above the gunfire.

“Evan—get a better vantage point!” Rinaldo yelled at me.

I hated taking myself away from him in this situation, but he was right.  I would be much more effective from up high.  No longer caring who knew where I was, I grabbed the Barrett and ran the short distance to the main building, dodging bullets along the way.  I scaled the ladder on the back side of the structure and perched near the corner.

Without the bipod, and considering the weight of the Barrett, it was a little more difficult to aim, but I’d done this plenty of times before.  Using the ledge around the roof, I balanced the weapon and began to take out Gavino’s men.  Before I got another shot off, I felt and heard a bolt right near my shoulder.

The second sniper.

Grabbing the Barrett, I moved over to the air conditioning unit and placed myself behind it in relation to the other sniper’s shot.  I had to shove the body of the first sniper out of my way to get where I wanted to be.  There were a few bolt casings on the ground near the body, and I grabbed two of them to put in my ears to dampen the noise.

My focus went back to the second gunner.  Whoever he was, he wasn’t on this building, and he obviously hadn’t gotten the message that Rinaldo and I were now working together.

Where were the fucking feds?

I didn’t even want them showing up at this point—the Chicago police would be here soon enough, given the racket we were causing—but the feds should have been here long before now.

There was only one other building in the area suitable for a sniper– the one near the street where I had ditched the hot-wired pickup.  Once I aimed my scope up there, I spotted him quickly.  He was scanning the area, trying to figure out where I had gone.

“Sloppy work,” I mumbled as I carefully took aim.  I drew in a deep breath, settled the crosshairs on the center of his forehead, breathed out, and pulled back on the trigger.

The blast shook my body, but the guy on the rooftop dropped to the ground, unmoving.  I closed my eyes for a moment, tried to force my heart to stop pounding, and focused again on the main area of the rail yard.

Jenna was the first one I saw.  She had a SIG in her hand and was aiming at the trailer of the truck.  When I looked in that direction, I saw three of the girls who were part of the cargo trying to get out.  The back door had broken open when the cab was hit, and they were trying to clamber out one by one.

Three sharp pops from Jenna’s weapon, and the girls dropped to the ground, unmoving.

“Bitch,” I growled as I took aim again.  Another blast, and Jenna’s body dropped to the concrete.  “You were a lousy fucking kisser anyway.”

Moving the scope to the left, I saw a tussle going on between Mario and Craig.  Mario was on top, and definitely had the advantage, but Craig’s hand came up and bashed his skull with the butt end of a gun.  Mario was stunned, and the next shot went through his chest and out his back, leaving a gaping hole.

Craig shoved Mario’s body off just in time to get a shot from my Barrett in the back of his head.

Gavino was running to his SUV.  I tried to aim at him as he got to the vehicle, yanked the driver out of it in his panic, and got behind the wheel.  Rinaldo was running up, firing multiple shots at his adversary, but they were bouncing off the bulletproof glass.

Not Barrett-proof, though.

As he slammed his foot down, the SUV lurched toward Rinaldo, causing my shot to go wide.  My second shot was quick—I didn’t have enough time to aim properly before Gavino ran down Rinaldo—and didn’t hit the cab as I had intended but the back half of the SUV instead.  It swerved, tipped onto its side, and smashed into the back side of the building, out of my view.

I grabbed the Barrett in one hand and the Russian rifle in the other.  I ran for the edge of the building and the ladder, carefully balancing both weapons as I shimmied down.  Moments later, I was on the ground again and running toward Rinaldo.  Above the hum of the substation, I could hear sirens approaching.

The gunfire had stopped, but bodies were everywhere.  From the gaping hole in the side of the trailer, caviar was pouring out all over the ground.  There were still girls peering out of the back door, but none of them were daring to try to escape now.

Rinaldo was next to Gavino’s truck, but there was no Gavino in sight.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“Took off,” Rinaldo replied.  “I didn’t even see him.”

The sirens got louder.

“Time to go,” I said.

“My information was right,” Rinaldo said as he pointed to the front part of the trailer.  “There’s my caviar.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be here,” I said.  “I was in all the discussions about tonight—there was never any mention of caviar.  How did you know it would be here?”

“My new man,” he said.  “He had a contact in the Russian group—someone high up.”

My mind went back to the argument between Andrey and Rurik, focusing on Rurik’s glee when he talked himself out of being here tonight.  He had to be the informant.  He wasn’t working for Rinaldo—I was sure of that—but using him to get back at Andrey and Gavino.

“I might know what happened,” I said, “but we have to get out of here now.”

“Agreed.  And you need to hurry.”

“He has Lia?”

“I don’t know,” Rinaldo said.  “He said he knew right where you were hiding, and that’s where he was headed when we came here.  You better take my car—the keys are in the ignition.”

I turned and started off, then looked back briefly.

“Who is he?” I asked over my shoulder.  “What’s the guy’s name?”

“Kyle Davies.”

The name gave me a bit of a start.  It wasn’t someone I knew, but the name was so close to the private who bummed a cigarette off of me a few days before we were ambushed—Keith Davies.  He was the third person in the video when the reporter was executed and the one whose information told the insurgents where to find us all.  He nearly faced court-martial when we returned because they were convinced he had given the information willingly.  It didn’t happen, but he was ultimately disgraced and ended up leaving the Marines as a result.

Coincidence, I told myself as I climbed into Rinaldo’s car and screeched out of the parking area.

All other thoughts were pushed from my head as I focused all of my energy on getting to Lia as quickly as possible.  If this Davies guy touched her, I wasn’t sure what I would do.  Just the thought of something happening to her was causing my heart to thump audibly in my chest and a cold sweat to form on my palms.

I dumped the car in front of the apartment without even bothering to turn off the ignition.  I pulled my Beretta out as I raced up the stairs to the second story unit, which was where my blood went ice cold.

The door was smashed in.

Nothing could have terrified me more.

Chapter 19—Incredible Loss

“Lia!” I screeched as I rushed to the door.

There was no answer.

Inside was a disaster with all evidence pointing toward a struggle.  The end table was upended, and the lamp that had been sitting on it was smashed against the floor.  The bags Lia had neatly packed had been opened, and their contents strewn about the floor.  As I looked around, it appeared as though everything we had planned to take with us was dumped out.  My eyes moved toward the next room.

“Fuck...no, no, no…”

Blood.

It was on the floor near a pile of things from one of the suitcases—a long streak of dark red, leading back into the bedroom.  I couldn’t breathe as I approached the door.  The adrenalin in my veins moved my muscles quickly, but my mind couldn’t catch up.  Several possibilities were running through my head at top speed, and none of them were good.

If anything, the bedroom was worse than the living room.

I looked around and tried to keep myself from hyperventilating by forcing air in and out of my nose, but I still couldn’t think straight.  Every drawer had been pulled out, its contents dumped and strewn about the floor.  Another table and lamp were knocked over, and the blankets and sheets on the bed were a mess.  I couldn’t even tell what everything on the floor was—it was all a big blur of mess.

A barely audible whine came from the floor behind the bed, the exact location marked by the trail of blood.

Odin.

He was lying partially on top of his dog bed, looking like a large lump of white fur.  The dog bed was upside down amidst a pool of blood.  The blood was soaked into his paws and on his side though I couldn’t see a wound at first glance.

I dropped to my knees and reached out to his shoulder.  He whined softly again, and his tail thumped once against the bedroom floor.

“Odin…buddy?”  I leaned in closer and wrapped one arm around him to turn him a little.  Two round, bright red spots on the front of his chest oozed blood into his white fur.  I tried to look him over as carefully as I could but couldn’t find an exit wound.  I tore off my shirt and held it to the wounds I could see, and blood quickly soaked it.

Odin tried to lift his head, but he couldn’t do it on his own.  With effort, I pulled him up against my chest and looked down into his soft, brown eyes.  He reached out with his tongue and lapped at the side of my face.

“That’s disgusting,” I whispered as my voice cracked.

Odin snuffed at my neck, let out a long sigh, and was still.

“No…no, Odin!  No!  Don’t…don’t…”

I squeezed my eyes shut and held his head against my body as I shook and tried to hold in the scream I wanted to let out.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.  This wasn’t part of the plan—the vision.  Odin was a part of all of it.  He was supposed to come away with us.

Us.

“Lia!” I screamed again, but I knew there wasn’t going to be an answer.  I lowered Odin’s head gently to the floor and checked the rest of the apartment, but there was no sign of her.  I did find the assault rifle Gavino had given me months ago, so whoever it was obviously was not looking for weapons.  I went back to Odin’s side and pulled his head into my lap again.

I was frozen, shaking, and completely unable to think or move or act.

I had no idea how long I sat there and just held him.  Nothing else around me even registered as his body cooled beside me.  I knew I needed to move—I had to find Lia—but I couldn’t.

All of this was my fault.

Odin had been the only constant in my life since I left the convent.  He was with me through sniper school and every assignment I was given all over the country.  Even when I was deployed, he was cared for by volunteers at the base in Virginia, waiting for me to return.

Without him, I would have been completely alone.

No matter what I might have done, he was always there waiting for me when I got home.  He didn’t judge, and he was never afraid of me.  When I was too lost in thought, he would always be there to bring me out of it.  He was always, always there when I needed him.  He was my companion and my friend.

“He’s gone.”  My voice echoed around the empty room.

With my eyes closed, I leaned over to place my forehead against his.  For a moment, I thought he moved, but I realized it was just my own body shaking.  I tried to tighten my muscles to make the trembling stop, but it didn’t work.  I took a long breath, and when I glanced up, someone was standing in front of me.

The kid with the bombs strapped to him.

He was closer to me now than I had ever seen him in the past.  On his face, I could clearly see the path of every tear, and on his clothing, every grain of sand.  There were wires sticking out from under his shirt and leading up to his hand, which was wrapped firmly around a detonator.

“What do you want?” I cried at him.  “I can’t take it back!  I can’t fix it!  You’re dead, and now he’s dead, and I can’t fix any of that shit!  What the fuck do you want from me?”

He continued to stare at me with dark, sorrowful eyes.  I couldn’t look away from him—all I could do was stare back and ask inane questions of a ghost from my past.  His eyes drifted to Odin and then back to mine.

“Is…is she gone, too?  Did you see her here?  Did he kill her?”

He didn’t respond.

“She’s…she’s all I have left.  If something happened to her…if that guy killed her…nothing else will fucking matter anymore!”

His head slowly shook from side to side.

“Why are you here?” I screamed at him.

He blinked several times, and his mouth opened.

“Don’t you see it?”  I knew the voice was my own.  Even though it appeared as if the kid was talking, I still knew it was me.  As soon as I heard the words, I knew what he meant.

“Lia’s like you,” I whispered.

“I didn’t want to be there,” the kid said in my voice.  “Forced into a war I didn’t want any part of and didn’t understand.  I followed because I was told to follow.  I didn’t understand what was happening.”

One of his hands moved down and rested against the shape of the explosives wrapped around his waist.

“I killed you.”  My hands were still shaking, and I tried to hang onto Odin’s body to make them stop, but it didn’t help.  The rest of me was shaking hard enough to shake his body as well.

“She’s the same.”

“I didn’t make her come here,” I said as I rapidly shook my head.  “She…she wanted to…to be here…”

“She wanted you.  She didn’t understand the consequences.  How could she?”

“But I told her everything!”

He didn’t have anything to say about that, only looked at me pointedly.

“Did I kill her, too?”

He didn’t answer.

I stood up and pointed the Beretta in his face.

“Did she fucking die here because of me?” I screamed at him.

He didn’t have any more words, so I shot him.

The noise echoed through the apartment, and the bullet blasted a hole in the wall of the bedroom.  I shot three more times, and the kid slowly faded away into nothingness.

Dropping to my knees, I took Odin’s head in my hands one more time.

“I’m sorry, buddy…so fucking sorry…”

I squeezed my eyes shut, told myself to get a fucking grip, and pushed away from him.  I stumbled out of the bedroom, holstered my Beretta, grabbed my SIG and the assault rifle, and ran back outside to Rinaldo’s car.  I broke every traffic rule in existence to get to Rinaldo’s office in just a few minutes.

“She’s gone,” I said as soon as I walked in.  “I went to the apartment, and she’s not there.”

Rinaldo’s eyes tightened, and he glanced around at the other men in the room before looking back to me.

“I was afraid of that,” Rinaldo said with a nod.  “He’s not answering my calls, either.  I sent him a message that the hit was called off, but he didn’t reply.  Where the hell is your shirt?”

I glanced down at my bare chest for a second before I looked back to Rinaldo.  I should have been cold, but I didn’t feel anything.

“Soaked in my dog’s blood,” I replied.  “He killed Odin.”

Rinaldo’s eyes closed briefly, and he shook his head.  His throat bobbed before he spoke again.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Davies knew where we were living.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you before all hell broke loose,” Rinaldo said.  “Davies went to get her—said he knew right where she was but didn’t tell me how.  He’s a new guy, and I honestly thought he was bluffing, but if she’s gone, he almost certainly has her.”

“Is she already dead?”  I didn’t want the answer to the question, but I had to ask.

“I don’t know,” he responded.  “I would think if she was, he’d tell me so I could pay him for the job.  I don’t know if that counts as hope or anything, but it’s a start.”

I flinched.

“Where would he be?”

“At the warehouse, mostly likely.  That’s where he’s been staying.”

The warehouse.  The combination drop-off site and living quarters near the school bus yard where I’d killed Lenny Yates and his companion some months back.  It was a good twenty-minute drive from Rinaldo’s office.  I turned and started out.

“Hold up,” Rinaldo said.

I turned to glare at him.

“Here you go.”  Rinaldo reached down behind his desk and pulled out the bipod and silencer for my Barrett.  “Found these in a truck near the rail yard.  I figured they were yours.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled as I reached for them.

“Anything you need?”

“Depends on what I find,” I told him.  “If she’s gone, I’ll have to call in that favor you once promised me.”

“What favor is that?”

I looked up at him, and all I could think was that he could have been—should have been—my father.

“I’ll need you to put me down, sir.”

* * *

During the drive to the northwest side of town where the warehouse was located, I used every relaxation and focusing technique I’d ever learned as a sniper to control myself and focus my energy.  The panic in the center of my stomach wasn’t helping me think, and I had to push it down if I had any hope of finding Lia and getting her away from Davies.

I pulled up to the building and slowly drove the car around to the back and parked it right next to the corner of the building.  There was a small back door partially hidden by a dumpster several yards away at the far end of the building, but I didn’t want to be too close to it.

A bullet slammed into the windshield.  It was stopped by the special glass but still left a mark where it bounced off.  The shot hadn’t come from the doorway but down near the fence that separated the warehouse from the school buses.  I slipped the shoulder strap of the assault rifle up one arm and around my neck.  I looked around the outside of the building as I climbed out of the car and crouched behind the door but didn’t see anyone.

Was this Davies guy shooting at me?

It didn’t have to be him—any of Rinaldo’s guys who hadn’t received the message could be gunning for me.  I looked off to my left where the line of trees next to the river darkened the area, which would have been a perfect hiding spot as the ground sloped down to the water’s edge.

There was a grassy area to the left just before the line of trees, and I ran in that direction, dropped down to the ground on my stomach, and aimed the assault rifle at the trees.  Several shots rang out as the butt of the weapon pounded against my shoulder.

Another shot rang out and hit the dirt near my boot.  Considering where I was, it was too dangerous to stay.  My enemy had the advantage of cover, and I had the disadvantage of needing to find Lia immediately.  Instead of continuing the firefight I was destined to lose, I moved back behind the edge of the building.

With the shooter at the rear of the building, I decided the back door wasn’t the way to get myself inside.  I ran along the edge of the building to the front where there were several windows boarded up.  The end of the AR broke through the boards and shattered the glass behind them easily enough, and once I’d made a big enough hole, I pulled myself through it.

I kept the AR at the ready as I moved to the first room’s door and shoved it open.  I looked in both directions down the hallway but saw no one.  There was a door to the left with music coming from the room behind it, so I moved in front of it and kicked the door in with my boot.

“Holy shit!”  The guy inside was in his early twenties with black, curly hair and dark eyes.  I recognized his face, but didn’t know his name.  Drug trafficking was most likely his occupation, but I didn’t care enough to find out who he was.

I kept my rifle aimed at his face.

“I’m looking for a girl,” I told him.  “Davies might have brought her here.  You want to live?  Tell me where she is.”

“You’ve got a price on your head,” the idiot informed me.

I turned the rifle to the little clock radio that also served as a docking station for his iPhone and blew it to pieces.  With the music silenced, I turned the weapon back to his head.

“No shit.”  I took closer aim.  “You seen her?”

He swallowed and nodded his head.

“You gonna kill me?”

“Maybe,” I responded.  “If you don’t answer my fucking question in the next three seconds, yes.”

“She’s in the corner room,” he told me.  “She’s tied up, but she ain’t hurt or anything, I don’t think.  I didn’t touch her.”

My hands trembled a little.  I didn’t know what to feel first—relief that she was still alive or rage that he had obviously considered hurting her or he never would have mentioned it.

I backed out of the room slowly.

“Don’t move a fucking muscle,” I said.  “You hear?”

He nodded quickly.

I didn’t see anyone else as I raced to the far end of the building.  I paused only briefly when I caught the exterior back door of the building in my vision.  I kept the rifle pointed at it as I moved past and found a locked room in the hallway nearby.

The door was metal and not one I could just kick in.  I took out my Beretta so I could easily aim downward at the lock without endangering anyone who might be close to the door—like Lia.  Once the lock was out of the way, I kicked the door open and pointed the gun around the room.

It was one of the larger single areas of the warehouse—one that usually held a lot of crates and packages of heroin or guns.  At the moment, there were no crates or skids—just a single wooden chair in the middle of the room.  On the chair was Lia.

She was tied down, blindfolded, and gagged.  Her arms were behind her, and her wrists were bound with plastic zip ties.  She sat, slumped forward with her head lolled to one side, and for a moment, my vision went red and I couldn’t move.

The air in my lungs seemed to freeze along with my legs.  I widened my eyes to watch her body carefully for any signs of movement and tightened my grip on the Beretta.

If she was dead, I’d just go ahead and turn it on myself.

No, I couldn’t.  First I’d have to find the fucker who did it.

Her chest rose sharply with a deep breath, and I nearly lost my ability to stand.  A moment later, I ran forward, and her head turned toward the sound of my footsteps.  As I dropped down and grabbed for her, she began to struggle and scream behind the gag.

“It’s me!” I said as I pulled the blindfold and gag from her.  “It’s just me, baby.  You’re all right.  Jesus Christ, you’re all right.”

I cut the plastic ties from her wrists with my knife, and her arms came up around my neck.  I wanted to do the same—just pull her close to me and promise her I’d never let anything happen to her again—but I knew I couldn’t.  I needed to get her out of here as quickly as possible.  Whoever had been shooting was more than likely still out there.

Hell, Davies could have come back in the building, assuming he was the one who took her.

“Where is he?” I asked.  “Where is that fucker who took you?”

“He knew you were coming,” Lia said.  “He ran off.”

Lia grabbed my shoulders tightly and looked up at me as tears began to fall.

“Oh, Evan!  Odin…he tried to…he tried to save me.”

I gripped my left hand into a fist briefly, closed my eyes for a moment, and looked back at her.  The actual circumstances of what happened to Odin hadn’t really entered my thoughts, but I couldn’t hear any of that now.

“Let me get you out of here and somewhere safe,” I said.  “Then you can tell me what happened.”

I got the rest of the ties off of her and then helped her to her feet.  She continued to cling to me, and I was perfectly fine with that.  We moved swiftly down the wall at the far side of the warehouse interior and to the back door.

“Stay close,” I said.

As soon as I opened the back door, a bullet ricocheted off of it, and I found myself thankful that at least this guy was a shitty shot.  I aimed my Beretta in the general direction of the trees and shot twice before I peeked around the edge.

I could see whoever it was—or the shape of him at least—hiding in the brush near the edge of the river.  He was down low behind the same pile of concrete where I’d dumped Lenny’s body.  It gave him lots of cover but also a bad angle to hit anything.

“We’re gonna run, baby,” I told Lia.  “Keep to my left side, keep low, and keep up.”

“Okay.”

We ran.

I fired repeatedly, but knew my bullets were only glancing off the concrete and the dirt around him.  The action still worked well as a diversion because he ducked down farther as he continued to shoot, making every bullet go way over us as we made our way to the car.

Despite the lousy shooting, my entire body was alert, focused, and tense, but what I was feeling was much more than the adrenaline in my system as I opened the driver’s side door and pushed Lia over my seat and into the passenger side.

“Stay down!” I commanded as I climbed in behind her.  “Keep your head under the dash!”

Lia complied and the tires screeched as I pulled out of the warehouse parking lot.  I heard another shot off the back of the car right as I was turning the first corner and slammed my foot to the gas.  I zigzagged through side streets and onto the expressway ramp, topped a hundred miles an hour as I swerved to avoid traffic, and then immediately took the first exit.

Navigating additional side streets at top speed, I constantly watched the rearview and side mirrors for anyone following us.  I went back to Interstate 94 and headed south briefly before racing to another group of side streets and back north again.

I tightened my grip on the handle of the Beretta and clenched my teeth.  I couldn’t stop my rapid breathing and the feeling of panic in my gut and chest.  I glanced at Lia, who still had her body angled low and her head wrapped up in her arms.

My chest clenched, and I checked the rearview mirror again.  We were in some neighborhood far to the west of downtown.  I hadn’t traveled in this area before, but there didn’t seem to be anyone around at all.  I screeched through a couple more stop signs before I yanked the wheel to the side and slammed on the brakes.

Reaching over the center console, I grabbed Lia and pulled her up against me.  Her arms went around my neck as I held her tight enough to feel her heartbeat.

She’s alive…she’s alive…she’s alive…

I could barely convince myself.

Shoving the seat back a bit, I slid an arm under her legs to bring her to my lap and tighten my grip on her.  I kept wondering if she was going to disappear, and I’d realize this was nothing more than another hallucination.  If it was, I didn’t know what I would do.  If I lost my shit completely over a dead hooker, how would I survive losing Lia?

I wouldn’t—plain and simple.

My arms gripped her again, and Lia gasped slightly.

“Evan—I can hardly breathe.”

I loosened my grip a bit but only enough for her to be comfortable again.  She sighed heavily as she relaxed against my chest.

“Never again,” I mumbled.

“What?” Lia asked.

I wrapped my fingers around her hand and held our hands up together.

“I don’t want to let go of you—not ever.  Once we are out of this city and out of this life, I’m never leaving your side again.”

Her grip tightened as I lowered our hands again.

“Where are we going?”

“Rinaldo’s house.”

“Rinaldo?  I thought you were…well, staying away from him.”

“Things have changed a bit.”

“He knows?” she asked.

“He knows everything,” I replied.  “Gavino also knows I wasn’t really working for him.”

“Did the feds catch him?”

“No,” I said.  I glanced at her sideways.  “They never showed up.  They either fucked something up royally or never intended to go through with it.  I’ll deal with Agent Asshole later, I guess.”

“Shit, Evan, what are you going to do?”

“Get you somewhere safe—somewhere with protection for you.  After that…well, I’m still thinking about it.  I’ve got to find out what happened with Trent, and I need to find out exactly who the guy is who took you.”

Lia’s eyes found mine.  Her expression was strange, but I wasn’t sure what it meant.  It occurred to me that I had no idea what she had been through over the past few hours.

“Are you hurt?” I asked as I pulled back and reached up to her face.  There were bruises forming there, and she had a nasty red mark on her chin.  “Did he fucking hit you?”

“I’m okay,” she said quietly.

He’d kept her alive, and anyone just looking for the bounty on her head would have killed her back in the apartment.  I looked over the beautiful woman in my arms and knew there were other ways of hurting her.

“Did he…did he touch you?” I asked.  My eyes bore into hers, looking for the answer outside of her words.

Her eyes tightened; she swallowed hard, and her breath caught in her throat.

I had to fight with my hands to keep my fingers from crushing her arms.

“Who?” I demanded as my chest tried to collapse into itself.  I struggled not to scream.  “Who…who was it?”

“He didn’t…” Lia struggled for breath before continuing.  “He didn’t…not that—not really.”

I couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“What did he fucking do?” I roared.

“He kept saying…saying he was going to,” she told me.  “He pawed at me a bit and said he was going to take everything from you, just like you did to him.”

What the fuck did that mean?

“Who was it?” I demanded.  “What did he look like?”

Her eyes focused on mine.

“I thought you knew,” she said.  “You were talking to him that one day…”

Her voice trailed off.

“Who?” I yelled again.

“That guy,” she whispered, “the one who came to your apartment before.”

I blinked, considered, and shook my head.

“Jonathan?” I yelled through clenched teeth, not even able to comprehend him doing something like that to any chick and certainly not one he knew was mine.  He was always going on about how Nick and I didn’t respect women enough.  The only thing I had done to him was spare his life, but all that would change if he touched her.

“Not him.”  Lia shook her head.  “The really big guy with no hair.  The one who showed up when…well, when we were arguing that one day about the neighbor and…and her dog.”

I froze.

She couldn’t mean him.  There was no way.

“The one who told you to check into me?” I asked.

She nodded, but I kept shaking my head.  None of this made any sense.

“I don’t get it,” I said.  “Lia, he doesn’t work for Rinaldo.  He’s a fucking fed.”

“The one making you do all of this?”

I nodded.

“Why would he…?”

Part of my initial conversation with Trent came back to me.  He had taunted me with the suggestion that I had been working for the insurgents and had given them information—the same thing Kevin Davies, the private who had given up our position, had been accused of doing.  At the time, I assumed it was just a tactic to get to me, but now I wondered if there was more to it.

“I don’t know,” I said.  “I’m going to find out though.”

I wrapped her hair in my hands and pulled our heads together.  I inhaled her scent through my mouth and nose, wanting to capture it forever in my memories.  Everything in my head made so little sense, I was half afraid it was still nothing but a dream. I felt wetness in my eyes drop down the sides of my face and into her hair.

Something was happening inside of me, and it was strong and powerful.  I didn’t have a name for it, only that I equated it to more of an unexpected, physics-defying sunrise rather than a left hook to the jaw.  It was like it had always been there, lurking around my body, but was blocked by everything else.  Before I nearly lost her, I couldn’t see it for what it was.

Now it was blinding.

“I love you,” I heard myself say right before I started babbling.  “God…I just…I…I love you, and if you had…if he had…fuck…I can’t be without you.  I love you, Lia.”

Her hands were on the sides of my face a moment later, and her lips pressed to mine.  I returned the kiss with hunger.

“Did I hear you right?” Lia whispered as her eyes looked to mine.  “Did you just say what I think you said?”

I ran my tongue over my lips and nodded.

“I love you,” I said again.  “I love you, Lia Antonio.”

Her eyes brightened with her smile.

“I love you, too, Evan Arden.”

I took a shuddering breath and listened to the words play over and over again in my mind.  The sound was the most beautiful music I had ever heard.

“No one’s ever said that to me before,” I said as the realization bounced around inside my head.

Lia’s eyes widened.

“No one?”

I shook my head.

“I remember a lot of shit about how God loved me,” I told her, “but no one ever saying it…not like that.  The God shit, well…let’s just say that considering what He’s put me through, God can pretty much fuck off.”

Lia’s fingers ran down my cheek with a sad smile.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly.  “I think maybe He brought me to you, so I can’t be too mad at Him for the other stuff.”

For a long moment, we stared at each other without speaking.

“No more of this shit,” I finally said.  My hands cupped her face, and I stared into her eyes.  “I’m done with it—all of it.  We’re getting the fuck out of Chicago as soon as possible.”

Lia nodded her agreement, and I kissed her again.  That action led to another kiss, and before long, I had to force myself to part with her to make good on my promise.

“I have to get you somewhere safe—somewhere you can be protected.”

I instructed Lia to get her seatbelt back on as I picked up the phone and tapped a couple of numbers on the screen.

“I have her,” I said when Rinaldo answered.

“She’s alive?”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“I need a safe place for her,” I told him.

There was a long pause.

“You going after Davies?” he asked.

I was going to have to tell him everything about Trent…or Davies—whatever his name was—but I didn’t want to do that yet.  I needed to know something first.

“Do you have a problem with that, sir?”

“He was just doing a job,” Rinaldo said.  “A job I requested.  Are you coming after me, too?”

“No, sir,” I said.  “And yeah, it was a job.  Consider retribution an occupational hazard.”

I heard a sigh come through the phone.

“All right, son,” Rinaldo said, and I felt my heart start to beat faster.  “Bring her to my house.  Luisa can stay with her.”

Much of the tension inside of me subsided, knowing he would be behind me on this even when he didn’t know everything yet.  I would tell him when I could do it face-to-face, but knowing he was going to back me up on killing someone he thought was on his side was all I really needed to know.

“Thank you, sir.”

I drove to his house with Lia’s hand grasped in mine.  I didn’t want to lose contact with her if I didn’t have to—not for a second.

Nothing would make me leave her unprotected again.

Chapter 20—Startling Revelation

Rinaldo opened the door himself before we had even exited the car.  His driver came around from the garage and took the keys from me, and I grabbed my duffel bag in one hand and Lia’s arm in the other.  I led her up the marble stairs of the mansion, between two huge, white columns, and through the front door.

“This must be the one,” Rinaldo said quietly as he looked over Lia.

Other men might have been angered by his scrutiny of her, but I saw it immediately for what it was.  He wanted to see her—know her—and evaluate her worthiness.  Would she be loyal and keep his secrets?  Would she be good enough for his valued hit man?

I looked to Lia, clenched her arm lightly, and nodded.

“Lia, this is Rinaldo Moretti.  Rinaldo, Lia Antonio.”

“A pleasure,” Rinaldo said as he shook her hand gently.  “Apologies for the contract I put out on you.  Mister Arden and I may have had a bit of a misunderstanding.”

He looked at me with coldness in his eyes, and I dropped my gaze.

“Sorry, sir.  I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“We’ll discuss later exactly what your choices were,” he said with the same coldness in his voice.  “Now isn’t the time.  We’ve got quite a mess here at the moment.  With Mario dead—a fact I’m half inclined to hold you responsible for—I’m going to need a little assistance.”

The den in Rinaldo’s house was full of people.  He had two of his trusted men with him—Victor and Matthew.  They stood on either side of him as he sat down in the leather office chair behind his desk.  Luisa was also there, and she took Lia’s hand and sat her on the couch near the bookshelves.  Nick Wolfe was oddly present.  He wasn’t one to deal with a lot of the business stuff, but with Mario and a handful of others gone, Rinaldo obviously thought he was needed.

Even Nick’s Russian piece of ass was there.

Milena Severinov watched me carefully from where she stood next to Nick.  I hadn’t seen her since that night of drinking at Sweetwater and an almost confrontation with her brother, Micah.  I walked past them both as I sat on the other side of Lia on the couch.

She was looking around at the grandeur of the room and was clearly impressed and intimidated by the display of extravagance.  Luisa whispered something to her, which made Lia smile and her cheeks turn slightly pink.  I reached over and ran my hand down her arm before taking her hand and looking at Rinaldo.

“We’ve got all-out war here, boys,” Rinaldo said.  The obvious addition for three women in the room didn’t stop him from using the term.  “Greco’s gunning for us, the Russians are now gunning for him, and they’re all after my enforcer.”

He looked at me pointedly.

“In other words, we’ve got a big fucking mess.  Business is going to suffer, and I’m low on killers and protection.  At the same time, there are fewer and fewer people I can trust.  On top of that, Mister Arden here seems to think I need one less guy around.”

“He was doin’ a job,” Victor pointed out.  “If you’d been around and the same contract came out, you’d kill a chick.”

“Not for fifteen G’s,” I replied.  “What you got is a cheap, piece-of-shit killer.”

“You still gonna take out my guy, huh?”  Rinaldo was never one to beat around the bush.

I wasn’t either.

“You mean the fed I’ve been working with,” I said simply.

Rinaldo raised an eyebrow.

“Agent Trent and Kyle Davies are the same person,” I informed him.  “He’s the one who wanted to set you up initially but agreed to let me give him Greco instead.  That must not have been good enough for him if he moved to infiltrate your crew as well.  I don’t know exactly what his game is yet, but he’s not on your side.”

I looked over to Lia and added, “Or mine.”

“How do you know this?” Rinaldo asked.

I lifted my chin toward Lia.

“She’s seen him,” I said.

Rinaldo looked over to her, and Lia looked down to where our hands were clasped together and bit at her lip.  I gave her hand a bit of a squeeze, and she looked over to me.

“Tell him,” I said.

“He’s the same one,” she answered quietly.  “He was at our apartment, arguing with Evan a while ago.  He’s the one who…who kidnapped me.  He shot Odin, too.”

“Holy shit,” a voice said from the door of the den.

We all looked up as Jonathan Ferris entered.

“What is it?” Rinaldo asked.

“You guys are talking about Kyle Davies—the big bald dude?”

“Yeah,” I said.  “Why?”

“Because he’s the one who helped me get your shit out of lockup,” Jonathan said.  “Your rifle and phone—he’s the one who had someone on the inside sign it all out for us.”

My skin went cold and broke out in goose bumps.  I didn’t think about my actions; I just reached down to the duffel bag at my feet and brought my Barrett out in pieces.  I examined each piece in detail, paying special attention to those parts that didn’t require cleaning on a regular basis.

Inside the scope, I found it—a tiny piece of plastic with a bit of metal at the end was stuck on the inside of the sight, away from where it would be seen looking through the scope.

“GPS,” Jonathan confirmed when I handed it to him.  “Damn small little bugger, too.  What-cha-ma-nuts has his resources, no doubt about it.”

“What-cha…who?” Victor shook his head and glared at Jonathan.

“Whatever his name really is.”  Jonathan placed the device on the tile floor by the fireplace and smashed it under his heel.

“That’s how he kept finding me,” I realized.  I looked to Lia.  “That’s how he knew where we were when we changed apartments and how he knew I was coming for him at the warehouse.  The Barrett was always with me.”

“How would Kyle know what weapon you always have on you?” Nick wondered aloud.

“How, indeed?” Rinaldo echoed.

Jonathan had his laptop out a second later, and his fingers flew over the keyboard.  Everyone else sat in silent contemplation while he worked.  After only a few minutes, he looked over to me.

“Hey, Evan—does the name Keith Davies mean anything to you?”

“Yeah,” I responded.  In my head, everything began to focus, and all the parts of the last few weeks began to merge together.  I thought the names had to be a coincidence, but they weren’t—they were the key to everything.  “Marine.  Infantry.”

“Captured about the same time you were.”

“Right before,” I said.  “Trent…Kyle—whatever the fuck his name is—he’s his brother, isn’t he?”

“You got it.”

“He blames me,” I said.

“For what?” Lia asked.

“Keith Davies was the guy who was nearly court-martialed for giving away our position when I was captured,” I told her.  “It was my testimony they were going to use against him.  He took the option of being dishonorably discharged instead.  There wasn’t a lot of evidence against him but definitely some suspicions.  No one was ever really sure if he was working for the insurgents or not, but my statements at the debriefing had them checking into him.”

“He killed himself eight months ago,” Jonathan said.  “It says here his brother was once an FBI agent, but he left the agency a couple years ago.”

Keith Davies’ suicide would have been just a couple of months before I had my little episode and would have given his brother plenty of time to find me and work on a plan of revenge.

“What did he say to you?” I asked Lia.  “Tell me what happened when he came to the apartment.”

Lia shifted in her seat and took a deep breath before she spoke.

“I was in the bedroom,” she said, “reading a book, and Odin started growling.”

She looked up at me, and I could see the tension around her eyes as she spoke.

“I’d rarely heard him growl before, and I started getting worried.  He got up and went to the door of the bedroom.  That’s when the front door burst open, and he was there.”

“Davies?” Rinaldo asked for clarification.

Lia nodded.

“I knew right away,” she continued, “I knew there was something wrong.  His eyes—the way he looked at me and kept smiling, even when…when…”

She took in a sharp breath, and I rubbed the back of her hand.

“Go on, babe,” I said softly, though the inside of me was ready to start screaming and breaking a few things.

“I picked up that gun you gave me,” Lia said to me, “and I…I tried to do what you said, but I couldn’t.  I couldn’t pull the trigger—I got the safety off, but I just couldn’t do it.”

“Great match for you there, Evan,” Victor snorted.

“Shut the fuck up,” I growled back at him.  I looked back to Lia.  “What did Davies say?”

“He pointed a gun at me and told me to drop mine.  Odin was still growling, and my hands were shaking.  He yelled at me to drop it again, and I didn’t know what else to do, so I dropped it.  He came into the bedroom, and Odin went after him.”

She paused and her eyes brimmed over with tears.

“He was trying to protect me,” she sobbed.  “He jumped at him, and I heard his gun go off twice.  Odin dropped down in the doorway, and he just kicked him and walked in.  He tied me up, went through everything, and the next thing I knew, he was dragging me out.”

“Motherfucker,” Jonathan grumbled.  “I liked Odin.”

Lia started crying harder, and Luisa took hold of her other hand.  I was just barely holding it together, trying not to imagine the scene in my head.  If I did, I was going to lose it, but some of it sank in anyway.

He was a damn fine guard dog after all.

My throat tightened up on me, and I turned my attention to Rinaldo, who looked over to Matthew.

“Go tell Howard to retrieve the body of Mister Arden’s dog,” he said.  “Have him take a crew to clean up the apartment as well.  Leave no trace.”

“Yes, sir.”

Matthew left the room.  By the time he returned, Lia had composed herself again.

“Go on,” Rinaldo encouraged her.

“He had these little plastic strips which he put around my wrists.  He had the gun in my back as he pushed me into a car outside the apartment building.  I was trying to watch where we were going, but I couldn’t figure it out—I don’t know the city very well.”

“Did he take you straight to the warehouse, where I found you?”

Lia nodded.

“The whole way, he kept saying how much he was going to enjoy making you suffer, Evan.  He said he’d been planning it a long time and he couldn’t wait to see your face when you found me.”

I swallowed and looked out toward the window for a moment.  The flickering image of the bomb kid was there in the glass, but I didn’t acknowledge him.

“He took me inside,” Lia continued.  “He kept laughing and telling me he wasn’t sorry it was going to hurt because he wanted you to suffer everything I suffered.  He said he was going to kill you eventually but not until you’d paid for what you’d done.  I kept asking him why, but he never told me.”

She took another breath.

“He pushed me down on the floor inside that room.  That’s where you found me.”

“I found you in a chair,” I reminded her.

Lia just shrugged as she looked away from me.  My eyes met Rinaldo’s, and I could see my expression reflected in his face.

She was hiding something.

“What happened?” I pressed.

“He put me in the chair when he figured out you were coming,” she said.

“What about before that?”

Lia was jumpy and kept looking away from me.  I reached over and took her chin in my hand to force her to look at me.

“What did he do?” I asked.

“I told you.  He pushed me down on the floor.”

“What else?”

“He just…well, he hit me.

“What else?”

“He…touched me,” she whispered, still refusing to look into my eyes.

“Where?”

Her eyes closed, and she shook her head silently.

There was something growing inside of me—something dark and powerful and deadly.  I watched her face and knew there was a lot more than what she’d already said.  Inside, it felt like my organs were caught up in the beginnings of an earthquake.

“Tell me!” I growled.

Her eyes filled with tears.

“What did he do?” I demanded again.

“He just...he just fingered me, okay?” she finally yelled.  “He was holding me down and saying he was going to…to rape me and make you pay for everything you did.  I…I think he was going to, but that’s when his phone went off, and he said you were coming.”

My teeth clenched as my body started to shake, and everything in my vision went red.  The earthquake inside began to rocket to the surface.

I had to get out of there, find Kyle Davies, and rip his flesh from his body.  I shoved myself up from the couch.

“I gotta go take care of something.”

“Evan…” Lia placed her hand on my arm, but I pushed it away.

“I need to go take care of something,” I repeated.

“Evan, you don’t even know where he is,” Rinaldo said.  He also stood up from his chair and crossed the room to place a hand on my shoulder.  “Now let’s sit down and-”

“NO!” I screamed as I shoved him backwards.

Both Matthew and Victor were on me immediately.  I threw a punch to Victor’s face, which threw him backwards into the bookcase.  Matthew grabbed my arm, but I wrenched it away and kicked him in the gut.

“Leave him alone!” Rinaldo yelled at both of them as he stood up and straightened his jacket.  “You’re just going to get yourselves killed if you don’t.”

Jonathan didn’t listen to Rinaldo.  He came up from behind me and grabbed both my arms, locking them behind my back.  I leaned forward to try to throw him off, but he was expecting it, and Jonathan was a big guy.  I couldn’t get the leverage I needed.

What if I had been any later?

“He fucking touched her!” I screamed.  I looked to Lia’s crying face as I struggled against Jonathan’s grip.  I kicked backwards and connected with some part of Jonathan’s leg, but he didn’t let up.  Luisa had an arm around Lia’s shoulders and was glaring at me.

“You aren’t helping!” Luisa spat.  “For Christ’s sake, Evan, stop it!”

“He…he…” I couldn’t bring forth words.  I couldn’t even understand the incredible rage I felt inside of me.  I’d never wanted someone dead so badly.  I wanted to tear him apart with my hands.  I wanted his blood all over me.  I wanted to revel in his screams of agony.

Jonathan held me firmly.

“I know, brotha,” he said calmly.  “I’m gonna be right there with ya when we make that motherfucker pay for it, too.  But not right now.  Right now, you have to get your shit together and think.  She’s still alive.  If you go off like this, she’s just going to have to deal with you getting yourself killed.”

I looked at her and watched more tears fall from her cheeks and onto her shirt.  I pushed against Jonathan once more but with only minimal effort.  He slowly loosened his grip as I tried to get my breath back under control, but he didn’t let go entirely.

“I want his fucking balls on a platter,” I snarled over my shoulder.  Jonathan let go, and I dropped back down on the couch next to Lia.  I reached over, moving slowly because I knew I had scared her, and ran my hand down her arm.  She stroked my cheek.

“That’s why I didn’t want to tell you,” she whispered.

I opened my mouth to say something, but the only words I had were of blood and violence so I closed it again.  I reached up and wiped the tears from her cheeks with my thumb.

“We’ll git ‘em,” Jonathan promised, “but we do it smart, right?  We gotta find him, first.”

“I know where he is,” Milena said.

Jonathan grabbed my arm again as I stood up and took a step toward Nick’s girlfriend.

“Easy, brotha.”

“Where?” I asked.  “Tell me where—right fucking now!”

Nick stepped forward and took Milena’s hand.  He was obviously ticked off at the way I was talking to her, but I didn’t give a shit.  If she didn’t give me what I wanted, I’d gut her right in front of him.

“He’s with Rurik,” Milena said.  “Micah’s with him, too.”

“Where?” I demanded again.

“I’ll tell you,” Milena said, “but there’s a condition.”

I pulled out my Beretta, cocked it, and aimed it at her head.

“The condition,” I told her, “is you getting to live for telling me what I want to know.”

Nick moved in front of her, but Milena—bravely or stupidly—pushed his arm away to look right at me.  I saw Rinaldo roll his eyes, which meant he didn’t realize how serious I was.

“No, that’s not the condition,” Milena said, “well, not the only one, anyway.  Micah’s my brother.  He can be as dumb as a box of rocks, but he’s still my brother.  I don’t want him dead.”

“I’m not making any fucking promises,” I snarled.

“Then you’ll have to shoot me and figure it out for yourself,” she said with a shrug.

“Me, too,” Nick piped up.

I moved the business end of the Beretta to Nick.

“Evan.”  Rinaldo’s voice held a warning I couldn’t completely ignore.

I took in a long breath and huffed it out my nose sharply before I dropped the gun to point at the floor.  If I was going to be the least bit successful, I needed Rinaldo on my side.  I couldn’t do that if I shot his kid.  I glared at Milena.

“Fine,” I said.  “He lives.  Tell me.”

“There’s a construction site just south of Quay—a little restaurant and bar on East Illinois.”

“I know the place,” I said.

“There’s a little outbuilding there—that’s where they are hiding.  Davies is there with them along with that other guy who’s always with him.  At least, they were headed there a few hours ago.”

“Johnson,” I said.

“That’s not his name,” Milena said with a shake of her head.  “He’s Russian, too.”

“Figures,” I muttered.

“Hey!” Nick called out in protest.

“Enough, Nicholas,” Rinaldo responded.  He walked forward and took his illegitimate son’s arm to lead him over to the opposite couch and sit him and Milena down away from me.  “Evan, do you have what you need?”

“All I need is this,” I said, indicating the weapon in my hand.

“I’m going with ya,” Jonathan said with conviction.

I wasn’t going to argue with him.

“Then go take care of your business,” Rinaldo said.  “We’ll watch over Lia.”

I moved back over to Lia, and she stood up to meet me.  I held her against me for a moment.  We parted slightly, and I looked into her eyes, still red from crying.

“I’ll be back soon,” I told her.  “Then we’re gone, you hear me?  We’re going to leave.”

I turned my attention to Rinaldo.

“I’m done here,” I told him.  “This is my last job, and then I’m out—permanently.”

His eyes went dark, but he didn’t argue.  He didn’t agree, either.

“We’ll discuss that when you return,” he said with a meaningful look.

I leaned in close to Lia.

“We’ll leave as soon as this is done,” I vowed.  It was a promise I intended to keep.

She closed her eyes and nodded.  We touched our foreheads together, and I leaned a little closer to press my lips softly and briefly to hers before I turned to leave with Jonathan behind me.

“I’m going to need a drink when all this is done,” Jonathan said as we went out into the hallway.

I was about to respond when an explosion rocked the house.

The blast was enough to send both Jonathan and me to the ground.  I rolled to the side, Beretta out, and looked back down the hall toward Rinaldo’s office.  The door had been blown off completely, and there was debris everywhere.

“Lia!”

I shoved myself up and ran back down the corridor.  I could hear Jonathan’s footsteps behind me, but all my focus was on what was up ahead.  The window of the den had been blown out completely, the bookshelf was toppled over, and people were coming in from outside.

“Motherfucker!”  Rinaldo was screaming.  “How dare you come to my house?  My house!”

Shots rang out, but I couldn’t pay attention to them because I couldn’t see Lia anywhere.  I pushed my way into the room and tried to make out shapes through the dust that clouded the air.  I could hear more shouting and recognized the voices, but I was too focused to register whose they were.

“Evan!”

To my right was the toppled bookshelf, and Lia was on the floor next to it.  I rushed over to her and knelt down.

“Luisa!” Lia cried as she pointed to the shelf.

I could see one of her legs and part of an arm sticking out from underneath it.  Crouching down, I got a good grip on the edge and shoved up with my legs as hard as I could.  The shelf only moved a foot, but it was enough for Lia to grab onto Luisa and pull her out from under it.

She was bleeding from a gash in the back of her head, and her arm was obviously broken.  I checked her head, but the gash wasn’t deep—just a lot of blood.  I pulled off my shirt and held it against her scalp as I pulled her and Lia back behind the upturned couch.

With the Beretta back in my hand, I peered out to the scene in the room.

Rurik Dytalov and Micah Severinov were right at the edge of the window surrounded by three of their goons.  Micah was yelling at Milena.

“You never fucking listen to me!” he screamed.  “You’ve joined the fucking enemy!”

Nick pushed Milena to the side as Micah fired.  She fell amongst fallen books and Rinaldo’s globe-shaped bar as Nick screamed and dropped down beside her.

“Nicholas!” Rinaldo cried.

His gun fired rapidly toward the two Russians, but my attention was drawn to the figure behind them.

Kyle Davies.

His eyes met mine, and everything I was feeling before abruptly resurfaced.  It wasn’t just a feeling, either—I could see it.  I could see him holding Lia down on the floor of that warehouse and threatening her.  I could hear the words she said he spoke, and I could see the terror in her eyes has he forced her to the ground.

“Motherfuckingsonofabitch!” I screamed as I pushed away from the couch and ran forward, gun firing into the dust-filled air.

A flash brightened my peripheral vision, and a searing pain in my calf caused me to lose my footing in the mess of glass, wood, and brick scattered around the floor.   My head slammed hard onto the floor, and my Beretta flew from my hand as bright spots formed in my vision.

Johnson was on me a second later, slamming my shoulders into the ground as I rolled to grab for him through blurry vision.  He pulled back to try to aim his weapon in my face, but I grabbed his arm, twisted it, and shoved his head to the floor into a pile of glass.  He screamed, and I pulled his head back to slam it down again.  One of the pieces of glass embedded in his neck, and blood began to pour onto the floor.

More shouts.  More shots.  I didn’t even know where they were coming from.  My head was pounding, and I still couldn’t see clearly.  Blood covered my arm, but I held firmly to the back of Johnson’s neck until he stopped struggling, his face a mess of gashes.  Just as I released him, a sharp blow to my gut sent me reeling to the side.

A burst of nausea trampled its way through me.  I shook my head to try to clear it, and when I looked up, Davies stood over me, his gun in his hand and a smirk on his face.

“You get it all figured out, asshole?” he snarled down at me.

“I figured out you’re a dickless piece of shit,” I replied.  “You can’t handle me yourself, so you have to pick on girls.”

“She has a nice, tight little pussy,” he said.  “I figured you couldn’t fill it up.”

He stuck a finger in his mouth and sucked on it.

I pushed myself up, lashing out with one boot to his shin.  Davies lost his balance and fell but kept hold of his gun.  I grabbed for his wrist, and we rolled to the side.  He cried out as he hit the glass, then wrenched his hand free and punched my gut with the butt end of the gun.

My left fist made contact with his jaw, and his head snapped back.  It didn’t deter him, though.  He punched me again with the revolver, knocking me back to the floor.

My head swam.  I was on my back again, blissfully not in a pile of glass, but I could barely move from the dizziness in my head.  I looked up to see Davies standing over me again.

“Time to pay, Arden,” Davies said as he raised the gun to my face.  “Who’s the fucking hero, now?”

The blast rang through my ears, leaving me deaf for a moment.  I waited for the pain, but there was nothing.  For a moment, I thought I might be dead, but then I realized I could hear Lia screaming.

“It’s all right, babe,” Jonathan’s voice echoed from behind me.  “You did good.”

I pushed myself up on my elbows and focused on the body of Kyle Davies lying near my feet.  There was a gaping hole in the back of his chest and blood everywhere.  I looked over to Lia who held my Beretta in her hands.

Her face was white.

The dust was clearing, and as my vision returned, the nausea subsided.  I looked around the room to see Rinaldo standing in the middle of it, a gun in each hand.  He was looking over the scene with his knuckles white against the pistol grips, his nostrils flared, and his eyes blazing.

There were no more shots.

I made my way over to Lia and kneeled in front of her.  She still held the gun out at the ready as she looked into my eyes.

“I killed him,” she whispered.

“I know,” I replied.  “It’s okay.”

She shook her head rapidly, and her hands clenched.  I needed to get the gun out of her hand before she inadvertently fired it again.

“Give me the gun, baby,” I said softly.

Lia’s eyes were still wide, and her chest rose and fell rapidly.  I reached forward and placed my palm over the barrel of the Beretta and gave it a bit of a twist, freeing it from her fingers.  She collapsed into a heap as soon as I did, and I dragged her closer to me.

“It’s all right,” I told her.  “You’re okay—I’m okay.”

“I killed him,” she said again.

“I know.”  I held her to me.  “You had to, baby.”

Rinaldo was holding Luisa gently by her good arm as he picked his way through the rubble, kicking at Rurik’s body in the process.  Victor and Matthew both lay still, but I couldn’t tell if they were dead or just unconscious.  Milena was holding Nick’s head in her lap, but his eyes were open and he was talking to her as tears ran down her cheeks.  I looked toward the window and saw Micah’s body bent at an awkward angle on the floor.

“You okay?” Jonathan asked.

“I think so,” I said.  I looked down to my leg.  The tear in my jeans revealed the bullet wound across my calf.  “Hurts like a bitch, but it’s not serious.  We need Doc Franklyn.”

“I’ll get him,” Jonathan said.

“Call in a cleaning crew, too,” Rinaldo called out as Jonathan stood and headed out.

By the time the doctor arrived, Jonathan and Rinaldo had moved Matthew and Victor’s bodies to one side of the room and Micah, Rurik, and three of their cohorts’ bodies to the other side.  Johnson—or whatever his name was—and Davies were still right where they fell.

Jonathan had cleared an area in the center of the room for Luisa to relax and for Rinaldo to pace.  Nick was sitting up, but like me, he had also been shot in the leg.  The wound was deeper, and the bullet was still inside, but Franklyn didn’t think he would lose his leg or anything.  He bandaged it, but said he wanted to take him to his office to get the bullet removed and his leg properly patched up.

Luisa’s scalp needed a couple of stitches, and her arm was put into a sling until Franklyn could get everything he needed to reset the break and apply a cast.  The doctor checked over Rinaldo, but other than a few scrapes and bruises, he was fine as was Jonathan.  Franklyn bandaged up my leg after agreeing that it wasn’t anything too serious and then handed me a bottle of antibiotics, which I pocketed after taking one of them.  He was more concerned about the obvious concussion I had suffered, but I told him to get off my ass and deal with the others.

Rinaldo looked over to me as the doctor wrapped my leg.

“It’s on,” he said as he looked around to everyone in the room.  “No one comes to my house like that and lives.  We’re taking out all of Greco’s organization and the Russians.  None saved.”

“Retribution,” Luisa hissed.  “Those fuckers are going to pay—all of them.”

Milena held on to Nick, but he just looked between his father and sister before he nodded his head in agreement.

I turned my attention back to Lia.

She was still white as a sheet, and I had the doctor come over and check her out.

“She’s in a bit of shock,” he said.  “Keep her warm and yell if she gets worse.  She’s going to have a nasty bruise there on her leg, but she’s otherwise unharmed.”

The phrase made me cringe.  I knew by the look in her eyes that she was anything but—it was a look I’d seen many times before, often in the mirror.  I took her face in my hands and tried to get her to focus on me.  As soon as she did, she broke down and started to cry.

I wrapped my arms around her and held her as tightly as I could.  She’d saved my life, no doubt, but right now, she couldn’t see it for what it was.

“He would have killed me, baby,” I whispered into her hair.  “If you hadn’t pulled the trigger, he would have killed me just like he did Odin.”

Lia clung to me, sobbing against my bare chest as her fingers gripped my shoulders.

“It’s over now, baby,” I told her.  “It’s over.”

“Take me away from here,” she whispered.  “I can’t do this anymore, Evan—I can’t!”

“You don’t have to,” I said.  “I love you, and we’re going to leave.”

Nothing would stop me from taking her far away from all of this.

Chapter 21—Final Goodbyes

Lia wasn’t happy about it, but I insisted she stay at Rinaldo’s southern house while I bought replacement items for the things that were destroyed when Davies wrecked the apartment.  I also had a few other things I wanted to get done before we left, and I couldn’t do all of those things with her in tow.

I also needed a little time to myself.

I kicked at the curb as I loitered and wished I had put on a warmer jacket.  It was only late October, but the wind from the lake was chilling.  After a few minutes of waiting, I looked up to see Mark Duncan as he was coming out of his office.  With a shout and a wave, I flagged him down before he could get to his Land Rover.

“Hey, Mark!”

“Evan?”  He stepped away from the vehicle and walked over to me on the sidewalk near the office building.  “What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to tell you I was leaving town,” I said.  I shoved my hands into my pockets to provide a little warmth.

Mark snorted out a sharp laugh through his nose.

“Now you decide to tell me something?”  His shoulders rose and fell with his breath, which froze into vapor as it came out of his mouth.  “Where are you going?”

I reached up and scratched at the back of my head.  I needed another haircut.

“Not sure exactly,” I said.  I really did have a place in mind, but I hadn’t even told Lia where it was yet.  I wasn’t sure how thrilled she was going to be with the location, but we could always move somewhere else later.

“So what made you stop here?”

I looked into his eyes and saw nothing but what had always been there—genuine concern for me.  It felt odd to recognize it for what it was, but I knew it had always been there from the beginning.  Maybe I could see it now because of Lia and her influence over me.  I didn’t know for sure; I only knew she made me see things differently—clearer and with a mindset more toward what I could be, not what I have been.

“Well, I thought you might like to know I don’t think I’ll be seeing that kid anymore,” I said.  “You know—the one with the bombs strapped to him.”

“I remember.”

“Yeah, I think he’s gone.”

“Why do you think that?” Mark asked.

“Because now I know why I kept seeing him.”

“How did you figure that out?” Mark asked as he appraised me.

“He told me,” I said with a shrug.  He raised an eyebrow, and I snickered.  “I guess I told myself.  Anyway, it’s kind of why I’m leaving.  Well, partially.”

“Are you taking Lia with you?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“I can only hope this is a good move for you, Evan.  Let me know where you end up, and I’ll recommend someone to continue your treatment.”

“Sure,” I said.  I looked into his eyes, and we both knew I wasn’t going to do it.

“Are you going to be all right?” he asked.

“I’ll manage,” I said.  “Thanks for trying to help me.”

Mark reached out his hand, and I shook it.

“Good luck, Evan.”  His tongue darted out over his lips.  “If you do ever need anything, let me know, okay?”

“I can do that,” I said with a nod.

We parted.

I finished my shopping and then joined Rinaldo at his office.  He shooed Nick out of the room so we could talk privately.

“There’s only one real kind of retirement in this business,” Rinaldo said flatly as soon as we were alone.

I stiffened in the chair across from him.

“So we’re going to say you’re on sabbatical, got it?”

I took a calming breath.

“Yes, sir.  Thank you.”

“You saved my daughter,” he said.  “You’ve saved me a number of times.  I owe you a little something, but don’t ever forget I may need something from you one day in the future.  I’ll respect what you need, but that doesn’t mean we’re parting ways forever, capisce?”

“Capisce.”

“I made sure the contracts were removed from both of you,” Rinaldo said.  “That should keep anyone from following you.  I also had Lia contact the police in Phoenix and resolve the missing person’s report her ex filed on her.  She talked to her mother as well.”

I’d forgotten all about that.

“Thank you, sir.”

“In case you were wondering, all the charges against you have been resolved.  You’re on probation, but don’t worry about checking in—Jonathan is covering all that for you.”

I blinked a couple of times.

“Seriously?”

“Apparently, he’s got an app for that.”

I laughed.

“Your mental state coupled with the extensive treatment you are currently undergoing is enough for the state.”  Rinaldo smiled.  “Everything else has been wiped clean.”

“Damn,” I muttered.  “That’s pretty good work.”

“If you would have talked to me in the first place, maybe it would have happened a little sooner.”

I glanced down at my hands and swallowed hard.

“You made some bad choices, Arden,” he informed me.

I looked down, the scolding leaving me feeling genuinely contrite for once.

“If you get yourself in a bind, you fucking talk to me about it.  We could have figured this one out together, and maybe we wouldn’t have the fucking disaster we have now.”

“I know, sir.”

“That said, I’m not holding you accountable.  I know what you’ve been through, and I appreciate that.  You’ve always been of great service to me and my family.  I can’t discount that, even if you did demonstrate shit judgment on your part.”

“Yes, sir.”  I took a breath and looked up at him.  His expression softened.

“If you ever need anything from me in the future, you just let me know.”  Rinaldo leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms as I nodded.  “And let’s not make it putting you down, all right?”

I smiled.

“Yes, sir.”

“You and Lia going to leave right away?”

“As soon as I’m done with a few errands, yes.”

“Do you know where you’re going?”

I shrugged noncommittally.

“Not saying?”

“I’d prefer to keep it to myself, sir.  If someone decides to look for me, I’d rather no one in your org know my location.”

Rinaldo nodded.

“We’re going to be busy with all of this.  Even with the Russians mostly out of the picture, we’ve still got Greco to deal with.  Once we’re reorganized, he’s going to have to pay for everything he’s done to this outfit and my family.”

“I’m sure he will, sir.”

“If I get wind that he’s looking for you out of town, I’ll let you know through your email.”

“I’ll keep an eye on it,” I promised.

Rinaldo stood, and I copied his movement.  I thought he would reach out and shake my hand, but he came around the desk and hugged me instead.  I returned the gesture a little awkwardly at first but then with tightened arms around his shoulders.  We parted, and I took a slight step back.

“I’ve got your back,” Rinaldo said.  “I hope you decide to stay in touch.”

“Maybe eventually,” I said.  “I’ve got to try and figure out this whole real life thing, you know?”

“All of this hasn’t been real enough for you?”  He waved his hands around the office and smiled.

“Nah.”  I shook my head.  “I think I slept through most of it.”

Rinaldo laughed.

“I hope you will rest easy now.”

“With Lia, yeah,” I said, “I think I will, sir.”

“Take care, son.”

My heart raced as I looked at him, nodded slowly, and turned to leave before I decided to change my mind.  I made my way down the back steps without looking back.

It felt strange to walk out of his office with no intention of returning.  I knew there would always be the possibility of him calling in a favor—and I would probably do whatever he asked—but for now, he would leave me in peace.

I looked out at the Chicago skyline as I boarded the bus and found two seats together so I had a place for my packages.  It was equally strange to know I wouldn’t be riding around on the same CTA buses, looking up at the same buildings, or walking along the lake with Odin chasing seagulls and pigeons.

There were so many memories, so many things I had done here, but more often than not, they weren’t pleasant things.  I rode the bus to where my car was parked and then found myself driving around Lake Shore East Park.  Someone had fixed the warning sound for the parking garage.  It wasn’t as loud as it used to be, but it still made me cringe.  There was a spot open, so I parked the car and looked up to the balcony of my old apartment as I walked around the park.

Without actually meaning to, I went inside the dog run.

There were a few people hanging out there, and I sat down on a bench for a minute to watch the dogs sniff and bark at each other.  A golden retriever mix came up to me, and I rubbed his head before his owner called him back.  Memories of Odin flooded through my mind, but they were all good ones.

I left the park, drove to Giordano’s, and ordered a pizza.

After I had stuffed myself, I walked by the 676 Bar and Grill, but I didn’t go in.  It was too early for Michele with one “L” to be working, and besides, the last memories I had there were of Davies.  I’d known then he was hiding something, but I thought he was just planning to turn me in along with the rest of Greco’s group, not kidnap and try to rape my girlfriend.

My hands clenched into fists.  Lia hadn’t said anything else about it, but I knew she thought about it.  She’d woken up last night in a cold sweat, crying.  I held her against my chest until she fell back to sleep.

I supposed I owed her a few nights of that.

I was pretty sure she and Luisa had talked about it more, and I was glad she had another woman to go to because I couldn’t even deal with my own traumas, let alone help with hers.  I could be there for her, but I didn’t have any words to take away what had happened to her.

After all of that, she still felt guilty about taking his life.

I only regretted not doing it myself.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I turned away from the lake wind and made the trek back to the car.  I drove slowly through downtown traffic and watched the tourists with their shopping bags and Chicago-themed sweatshirts walk up and down the street, looking at maps and smartphones as they tried to figure out where they were.

I drove by the corner where Bridgett used to hang out and wait for tricks.

“You need to stop this shit,” I told myself.  “Too many fucking memories.”

With a quick twist of the wheel, I got myself onto Lakeshore Drive and headed toward the less damaged of Rinaldo’s homes.  When I arrived, all of Lia’s things were in a pile on the porch next to mine.  As I pulled up, she came outside with Luisa and Jonathan behind her.

“Ready now?” she asked.

“Definitely,” I replied.

Luisa and Lia shared an awkward one-armed hug, carefully avoiding bumping the bright pink cast over Luisa’s arm and elbow.  They spoke a few soft words as I threw the last of our things into the car and shut the lid to the trunk.  Jonathan came over and clasped his hand on my back.

“You take care of yourself, brotha,” Jonathan said as he shook my hand vigorously.  He was wearing his Save Ferris T-shirt, which made me smile.  “You ever need anything, you know how to find me.”

“Thanks, dude,” I replied.  “You sure you’re okay with taking care of…of Odin?”

“It’s my next stop,” Jonathan said.  “He’s getting the biggest fucking stone in the pet graveyard, so if you ever come back, it’ll be easy enough to find.”

We looked at each other for a long moment, but there wasn’t anything else to be said.  As strange as it was, given how many bodies I had disposed of during my tenure with Rinaldo’s organization, I couldn’t bring myself to take care of Odin’s.  The very thought of it brought me to the point of vomiting.  It could have been left over from the concussion, but I didn’t think so.  When Jonathan had volunteered, I knew my dog would get the best final services he could.  Thanks wouldn’t have been anywhere near enough, and Jonathan already knew how I felt about it anyway.

“Don’t put up with any shit from this guy!” Jonathan said to Lia as he gave her a quick hug and opened the car door for her.

She laughed.

“He wouldn’t dare,” she said with a wink to me.

I rolled my eyes, waved goodbye to Luisa, and got behind the wheel.  Lia settled in beside me, and I pulled around the circular driveway and off into the street.

“We need to make one last stop,” I said.

“Where?” Lia asked.

“The old apartment over on Kingsbury.  I’ve got to grab a couple things from there.”

“What?”

“Cash,” I replied.

Lia came with me as we headed up the elevator and then to the unit we had inhabited.  She stood near the door and looked around as I grabbed a couple of suitcases from the back of the closet.  When I came out, she was staring at a spot on the floor in the living room.

Odin’s spare rubber bone was lying there.

“Get it,” I said quietly.

She glanced at me, and there were tears threatening to spill from her lashes.  She didn’t say anything, just quickly walked over and grabbed the bone.  She shoved it into her purse, and we headed back downstairs.

I tossed the suitcases into the trunk and was about to slam it shut when a voice shouted out from behind me.

“You there!”

I startled and went for my gun.  Lucky for her, the crotchety old woman with the bitch Odin had knocked up didn’t end up with a bullet in her head.

“You owe me eight thousand dollars!” she snapped.  “I have four mongrel pups I can’t sell for anything!”

For a moment, I could only see red.  I was dangerously close to strangling the old hag, but before I did, I glanced behind her and saw her dog on the lawn with four playful, white pups rolling around in the grass.

One of them perked her head up and looked over to us.  Her tail began to wag furiously as she tried to bound over in our direction but tripped on her own feet instead.  Distracted by whatever scent filled her nose upon impact, she attacked a blade of grass and forgot about us.

“You’re a nut,” I informed the woman.  “Fuck you and the dogs.”

I turned around and started to walk away, but Lia stopped me.

“Evan?” Lia said as her hand rested against my elbow.  “Evan, can we…can we take one of them?”

My chest tightened.  At first, I wanted to say no.  I wasn’t replacing Odin—there was no way.  But these pups…they were part of him, too.

He took a bullet for her.

I went back to the car, looked around carefully to make sure no one was watching, and then opened one of the suitcases full of cash.  I quickly counted out eight grand and brought it over to the woman.

“Here,” I said.  “Don’t ask for another fucking thing from me, and don’t give me any shit about it—we’re taking one of the puppies.”

She opened her mouth like she was going to argue with me anyway but thought better of it as she stared at the cash in her hand.  I took Lia’s arm and led her over to the fluffy white, wriggling balls of fur.  The same puppy that fell over her own feet earlier bounced over and licked Lia’s hand.

“That one,” I said definitively.

“I think you are right,” Lia replied as she picked her up.

She twisted and turned to get out of Lia’s arms at first, but then turned toward her face and licked her chin.

“That’s disgusting,” I told the pup, and her ears perked up at the sound of my voice.  She stared at me intently for a moment and then struggled to get out of Lia’s arms and over to me.  I rubbed her head, but Lia kept hold of her.

“She’s perfect,” Lia said as we got into the car, and the pup watched out the window as I pulled away.  “What are we going to call her?”

“Freyja,” I said without giving it another thought.

“What’s that from?”

“She’s the Norse Goddess of fertility, love, and beauty,” I told her.  I left out how she was also the goddess of death and war—that shit didn’t make sense to me, anyway.  It sounded better to leave it as it was.

“That’s perfect,” Lia said with a smile.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as she rubbed the pup’s head and started to tear up again.

“She’s got her dad’s eyes,” I remarked, and Lia nodded in agreement.

“Her breath is better,” she said as she wiped the wetness off her cheeks.  “Do you think she’ll like to play fetch?”

“Definitely.”

I pulled onto the freeway and headed northwest, out of Chicago.

“Where are we going to go?” Lia asked.

“Canada,” I replied simply.  “I have a cabin up there.”

“Like the one in Arizona?” she asked.

“Not exactly,” I said with a smile, “but similar.”

“Middle of nowhere?”

“You got it.”

“Will this place have electricity at least?” she asked.

“It’s got a propane tank,” I replied.  I looked over to smile at her slyly.  “Mostly gets used to heat the hot tub.”

Lia laughed, and I reached over to hold her hand.

Freyja licked the back of my knuckles.

“Disgusting,” I grumbled and sped up the highway as the Chicago skyline disappeared behind us.  I would miss it—well, parts of it—but everything important to me was with me.

I reached over to hold Lia’s hand as we drove away.

Nothing could have been better.

Epilogue—New Life

It’s fucking cold.

I kind of like it.

I stood out on the enclosed front porch of the small cabin in a desolate wasteland somewhere in Northern Ontario.  There was a good-sized lake not far off, and I could see the iced edge of it from the front of the cabin.  Evergreen trees surrounded the other three sides of the property, encasing it in serenity.

I adjusted the towel around my waist and took a sip of my scotch.  Behind me was the bubbling sound of the hot tub that had come with the place, and I planned on taking full advantage of it—for about the hundredth time—as soon as Lia was done cleaning up from the dinner I had cooked for her on the gas stove.

At least there was heat inside the cabin.

It had a living room, good-sized bedroom, a kitchen, and actual plumbing in the bathroom as long as the pipes were kept warm from the gas heat.  There were fireplaces in each room and three cords of wood in the back, already seasoned for the winter.  I’d have to get more for next year.

The cabin really was a lot nicer than the place in Arizona.  It was a good thing, too—I’d paid quite a bit for it, given the remote location and lack of amenities.  Some rich fisherman had the place built a decade ago but died of a heart attack before he ever had the chance to use it.  I bought it off his widow as one of the many getaways I might need when the time came.

The time had come.

The door opened, and Freyja bounded out with Lia close behind her, Odin’s old bone in her mouth.  She’d already grown a lot and resembled her father a little more than what made me comfortable, but I was getting used to the constant reminder of my old friend.

Lia had looked up her name and found out Freyja had been worshipped for war and death as well, but we ultimately decided it made sense.  All you had to do was look at us—from war, death, and suffering, we’d achieved beauty, peace, and love.

Lia was dressed in a string bikini, which I found utterly ridiculous, but she never just came out to the hot tub naked.  I wasn’t sure if she thought someone was going to spy on us all the way out here or not, but she refused to walk around outside without wearing something.  The bikini usually lasted about thirty seconds after Lia got into the hot tub, and even more often, ended up never making it to the water.

“Holy shit, it’s cold!” she cried as she wrapped her arms around her chest.

“Don’t do that,” I whined.  “I can’t see your nipples now.”

“I’m right, though, aren’t I?” she pressed.  She came up, stole a drink of my scotch, and kissed me lightly on the cheek.  “It’s getting even colder!  I thought Chicago winter was bad.”

“It’s barely December,” I reminded her.  “We haven’t even hit winter officially.  It’s going to get a lot colder.”

She looked out over the snow and got a faraway look I didn’t like much.  It meant she was thinking—remembering—about shit she shouldn’t have to think about.  She shivered, and I moved up beside her to wrap my arm around her shoulders.

For the most part, she was keeping herself busy with correspondence school to finish her degree in nursing.  It would only work for another year before she would have to be near a hospital to complete her studies, but we’d figure all that out when the time came.  It was a sacrifice she’d made to be with me, and I’d thrown out my Beretta so she wouldn’t have to look again at the only gun she’d ever fired again.

The Barrett was still with me, but I took it far away from the cabin to shoot it.  The noise made Lia kind of panicky, and Freyja didn’t care much for it either.  I set a target up about a mile away, and though the trek out there was a long one through the trees and snow, it was worth the effort to give her a little peace.

Lia had her scars from the whole ordeal, and I didn’t begrudge her those.  She’d done things she never thought she’d have to do, seen shit she never wanted to see, and she knew far more than she ever wanted to know.  There was no way I could erase those thoughts from her memory any more than I could erase what happened to me in the desert.

As much as I’d hated the thought, I told her she didn’t have to stay with me—not if it was too painful—but she just told me to shut up, and I wasn’t about to push the issue.

I needed her.

Maybe we needed each other.

I hoped so.

There was only one other thing still lingering in my mind—I still didn’t know why my parents ditched me in the first place.  I still had the address of the cemetery where they were buried, but I hadn’t gone there.  Maybe in the spring, we could take a trip to Ohio and see their graves, but I wasn’t sure what kind of information I’d really get from that.  It would be a good excuse to see Jonathan, though, and maybe get an update on the war in Chicago.

Maybe I’d just leave it alone.

Lia shivered again, and I lifted her up and lowered her into the hot tub before ditching my towel and climbing in myself.  Freyja went up the small step stool beside the spa and put her paws on the edge, but she didn’t like the water and wouldn’t come in.  She did like to sniff at the bubbles and watch us fuck, though.

Perverted thing.

I’d been thinking about fucking since I walked outside, so I didn’t waste any time getting rid of the damn bikini and pulling Lia on top of me.  I slowly lowered her down on my cock, and that feeling of peace, love, and home washed over me along with the bubbling heat of the water.  Lia moaned softly against my neck, and for a while, I stayed inside of her but didn’t move.

It was a feeling that made me think Lia might be right—maybe there was a God, and maybe He did care.

Lia’s lips found mine, and her fingers ran over my chest and stomach.  I kissed her deeply as I started raising her body up and down over my cock.  She moaned into my mouth, and her thighs clenched around mine as we moved slowly.

I’d fuck her hard later.

She liked it that way.

For now, we needed the peace.

I kissed her neck and shoulders, then moved down to take a wet, hard nipple between my lips to suck at it.  Lia gasped and arched her back, causing my cock to slide deeper inside of her.  Her hands moved to my shoulders, and she gripped them tightly.

“You feel so good,” I moaned against her skin.  “Warm like the water.”

My hand moved around the globe of her ass, seeking her backdoor with one finger.  She tensed as I ran my fingertip around it and then cried out as my finger penetrated her along with the motion of my cock.

“Evan…oh, fuck…Evan!”

“You know I still want that ass,” I reminded her as I kept up the motion with my finger.  She moaned again as I added another finger.  I pulled her down against me hard, ground my hips upward, and felt her come apart with my cock and my fingers.

“Jesus,” she whispered against my shoulder through panting breaths.  “You’re trying to break me, aren’t you?”

“I just want you,” I replied, “every way I can possibly have you.”

She leaned back, and I looked up at her flushed face.  Her eyes focused on the spot where her hand rested on my chest, and she nodded her head.

“Do it,” she said.

“Now?”

She nodded.

I didn’t need to be told twice.

In one swift motion, I stood up, taking her with me.  Holding her like a child, I climbed carefully out of the tub.  Freyja followed us inside and whined briefly as I shut the bedroom door before she could enter.

“Poor pup,” Lia remarked.

“Whatever,” I said with a smile.  “She’s a pervert.  I want you to myself for this.”

Lowering Lia to the floor beside the bed, I tossed a couple of logs on the fire before grabbing a towel from the bathroom.  I dried both of us off a bit so the bed wouldn’t end up all wet, then leaned down to kiss Lia’s lips, run my tongue across hers, and revel in the feeling of her mouth on mine.

Her hands came up my sides, and I dropped the towel to take her face in my hands and kiss her more deeply.  My tongue explored and tasted as her fingers explored my back, shoulders, and arms.  My hand brushed over the quarter she still wore around her neck—a constant symbol of our first encounter.  My eyes moved to her face, but she was looking at her hand wrapped around my forearm.

“I love your arms,” she whispered.  “You make me feel safe.”

“I’ll always keep you safe,” I swore to her.  “I’ll never, ever put you near danger again.”

I kissed her, took both her hands in mine, and led her over to the bed.  She got in hesitantly.

“Get in the middle,” I instructed as I crawled in behind her.  “Get on your knees and spread those beautiful legs.”

She grinned as I winked at her, then did as I said.

“Beautiful,” I murmured.  I tossed a bottle of lube beside her before moving up between her legs, pushing them a little farther apart with my knees.

“We’re going to do this slow, okay?”

“Yes,” Lia breathed out the word as she settled on her hands and knees.

I placed my hand between her shoulder blades.

“Down farther,” I said.  “Put your arms down on the bed.”

She did so, which further angled her ass up to me.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I said quietly.  I ran my fingers down her back and over her butt, feeling the softness of her skin.  My cock bobbed and strained like it knew exactly what was coming.

Lia looked over her shoulder at me.

“I love you, Evan.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

Watching her body below me, I ran my hands up and down her sides, pausing to cup her breasts as I leaned forward and kissed the middle of her back.  I pulled at her nipples a bit, then leaned back and grabbed the bottle of lube.  I spread some on my fingers, my cock, and around her ass.

Lia’s cheeks clenched.

“That’s cold!”

“Sorry, baby.”  I rubbed a bit more between my fingers to warm it up, then used them around the rim of her ass again.  “Better?”

“Much.”

With one hand circling around to tease her clit, I used the other one to gently insert a finger in her.  Since I’d already had two in her while we were in the hot tub, there was little resistance from her body and Lia remained relaxed below me.  I went with a second finger, moving them slowly inside of her for a minute before pulling out, wrapping my hand around my shaft, and guiding it into place.

Slowly, I pushed forward until the head of my cock slid past her sphincter.

Lia gasped.

“You okay?” I asked quickly.

“Yes.”  Her voice was breathless.

“You sure?”  It was taking all my willpower not to push in farther.  The tightness of her ass around the head of my cock felt glorious.

“I’m sure.  Just…go slow?”

“I will.”

I did.

Wonderfully, painfully slowly.

Sweat gathered on my brow.  I was nearly all the way inside of her, and my cock throbbed with the tight grip her body had on it.  I caressed her skin, leaned forward, and drove myself the rest of the way in.

“Oh, fuck…baby!” I cried out.  Every muscle in my body seemed to contract at once with the sheer level of emotion I felt as I was enclosed inside of her.  I reached up and wrapped my hand in her hair, pulling back slightly.  My eyes blazed down at her as she turned her head to look at me.  “You’re everything to me, you know that?”

“I know,” she nodded.

“Everything,” I repeated so she would have no doubt.

I moved.

Slowly…carefully.

Her body adjusted, and soon I felt her pushing back against me with her ass.

“That’s it,” I whispered.  “So good…”

I pulled out most of the way and then entered her again.  My thumb pressed against her clit as I drove forward, and Lia moaned softly into the sheets.  Her legs trembled, and I ran my free hand over her thigh.

My pace increased, back and forth, until I could feel her pussy clenching around my fingers and her ass squeezing my cock.

“Ugh…ugh…oh, shit…baby…” I groaned as my legs began to shake with the effort of holding back.  “You feel so…damn…so good!”

Lia’s hands reached out and gripped at the rails on the headboard.  She tightened her fingers around them as she cried out incoherently, her ass bucking back against my cock.  I kept stroking around her clit as she thrashed below me but wrapped the other arm around her waist and leaned forward, pushing myself deep inside of her.

The tightness of her ass and the depth of my penetration were too much.  My balls tightened, and it felt like electricity was shooting through my cock as I filled her ass.

With my energy completely spent, I fell on top of her.  Lia’s legs gave out, sending us both to the mattress as my cock popped free.

“Jesus Christ,” I mumbled.  “If I had known it was going to be that good, I would have pushed for this a lot more and a lot sooner.”

Lia giggled.

“I’m surprised,” she remarked.

“By what?”

“How good it felt.  I thought it would hurt.”

I rolled off of her and pulled her against my chest.

“Did it?”

“Maybe just a little at first, but not really.”  She looked up to my face and stroked my cheek.  “Stop looking like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you did something wrong.”

“I didn’t want it to hurt at all,” I said.

“It was wonderful,” she said.

I relaxed as she continued to run her hand over my jaw.

“You’d do it again?” I asked.

“Definitely.”

I smiled and began making plans in my head.  She smiled at me, and my heart felt like it could rupture under nothing more than her gaze.

I rolled to my back and held Lia against my chest.  For a long time, I just felt her skin against mine in the warmth of the room and wondered how, after everything I’d done, I still managed to end up with the girl.  In some ways, it didn’t seem to be universally fair, but I wasn’t going to point that out to God or anything.

Maybe He finally decided He owed me a little peace.

I was still pissed at Him, though.

So we both had scars, but I didn’t have nightmares when she was with me, and she felt safe as long as she was in my arms.  If that was what life was going to give us, we were going to take it.  In my head, I couldn’t think of a better way to exist than with her, out in the middle of nowhere, exactly the same as we had started.

So here I would stay.

Lia at my side.

God willing, we’d remain otherwise unharmed.

Content

Otherwise Unharmed
Evan Arden Trilogy - 3
by
Shay Savage

Chapter 1—Lost Soul

Chapter 2—Possible Forgiveness

Chapter 3—Needed Sleep

Chapter 4—Desperate Thoughts

Chapter 5—Unavoidable Agreement

Chapter 6—Intense Reconnection

Chapter 7—Desired Refuge

Chapter 8—Unveiled Threats

Chapter 9—Gentle Night

Chapter 10—Blatant Truth

Chapter 11—Unexpected Reaction

Chapter 12—Developing Plan

Chapter 13—Tentative Agreement

Chapter 14—Heated Argument

Chapter 15—Unexpected Gift

Chapter 16—Narrow Miss

Chapter 17—Altered Plans

Chapter 18—Double Cross

Chapter 19—Incredible Loss

Chapter 20—Startling Revelation

Chapter 21—Final Goodbyes

Epilogue—New Life