His head comes up and his eyes focus on her face, and recognition dawns slowly through the alcohol fog. "Sabine? What are you?—"
She hits him before he can finish the sentence, her fist connecting with his jaw hard enough to snap his head to the side. He staggers back against his car with drool dangling from his lip, and I move in closer, barrel pointed at his ribcage while Sabine advances on him with fury written across every line of her body.
"You knew…" Her bottom lip is trembling and she shakes her hand out a few times to remove the sting of that blow. "Jason raped me, and I reported it to you, and you fucking covered it up. And what happened in that house… Man, how could you side with him? Those women were innocent."
Caldwell's hands come up in a defensive gesture, blood trickling from his split lip. "Sabine, I'm sorry. I was scared. We were all scared of what would happen if?—"
She hits him again, and her knuckles split and blood runs down her fingers. Caldwell covers his cheek and turns his head to the side before spitting hard. A glob of blood splatters the ground, but even completely wasted, he's not stupid enough to fight back right now with me here and my weapon on him.
"Admit it." Tears are streaming down her face now as she folds her arms over her chest.
Caldwell's face is a mess of blood and swelling, and when he speaks his voice is slurred and thick. "Yeah, I knew it, okay?" He wipes away some blood, but I see how glassy and unfocused his eyes are. He's so wasted, totally not safe to drive home.
"I'm gonna take him down and I need your help." Sabine swipes at her face and continues. "You’ll have to come to SOCOM with me. I'm gathering evidence. I think Bryan is up for a promotion…" I'm glad she's leaving out the parts about the hitlist. If I don't have to fight this guy, I don't want to. My thigh is too sore.
"Nah, no way…. No fucking way in hell." Caldwell moves, reaching for his door, and I use the butt of my gun to pound him on the back of the head hard. "Ouch, who the fuck are you!"
He takes a swing at me and misses because I dodge his sloppy jab. Spinning, he falls to his knees and stays there drooling on the ground, so I lob a hard kick to his ribs for even thinking he could come at me. My thigh screams, but it's worth it to see that sack of shit fall.
"Ethan, you have to help… Please…" Sabine crouches next to him and touches his shoulder. She's too soft. This fucker is never going to break. She should just let me off him now. But she pleads with him. "Please… Your life is at risk. You can come with me and be safe. We'll take Bryan down, okay?"
"Fuck no. You think I want to rot in some cell down at Leavenworth? Fuck that… Just go away."
"Sabine," I growl, knowing we're running out of time. But she doesn't look up at me.
She's sobbing, snot running down her nose in an ugly cry that would embarrass most women. She's trying to save this fucker's life and he doesn't even care. "Please, Ethan."
"I said go away," he snarls, and when he reaches for her, I kick his hand away.
"Go to the truck," I order her, but she stays there sobbing.
"No, Jace. Please… Give me five minutes."
"Go, Sabine. Now." She's lucky I don’t change my mind about this whole fucking thing. My job is to take them out, and I'm going soft. My God, what am I thinking?
Sabine pries herself off the ground and stands, and I glower at her until she walks away.
The gun in my hand moves on instinct, and the gunshot booms in the empty parking lot when I pull the trigger. Caldwell's head snaps back and his body crumples to the ground, blood pooling on the gravel beneath him while the echo of the shot fades. Something that loud will draw attention, so to make sure we're not caught, I hurry. I snag his wallet and the cash from his pocket of his coat, and then I run to the truck and climb in.
The truck starts on the first try and I'm pulling out of the lot before anyone inside the bar can decide to investigate the gunshot. Sabine sits beside me crying silently, her hands shaking in her lap while the reality of what just happened sinks in. We made the agreement—she fucking agreed to this. I'll kill them if they won't help because that's what I have to do to survive.
I'm not fond of how I feel right now knowing she's sitting there crying because I'm a murderer and her former military buddies are dropping like flies. But what else am I supposed to do? If I don't go back to Barone with confirmation that these twelve names have been eliminated, I'm the one who will take their place.
We're twenty miles outside Gary before she speaks, and when she does I almost can't hear her. "Why are you killing all these people just for money?"
I can't even answer her.
Because it's what I do? Because if I don't do it my life is on the line? Or maybe because I'm afraid of what happens if I break ties with Barone and have no one.
Maybe the real reason is that I'm hoping this one last job will somehow balance the scales. That finishing this contract perfectly will erase the moment I let that girl run and prove I canstill be trusted to complete what I'm given. It could save my own life.
But deep down, I know nothing I do will matter. Once Barone has his government commander in his pocket, he won't need me. I'll become a liability. The girl is proof I hesitated, and hesitation means I can't be trusted to finish a job. This contract isn't my exit. It's my execution plan.
And maybe that's what I deserve. Maybe the scales don't balance, and trying to find redemption through helping Sabine get justice is just another way of avoiding the truth that I'm already too far gone to save.
"I don't know." The words are the utter truth. I keep my eyes on the road ahead while Sabine cries beside me. "I don't know anymore."
8
