“We infiltrated your brother’s organisation. Diane is gathering all she can,” Dante explains with a sigh.
“He’s going to kill her when he finds out.”
“If.”
“When,” I insist.
They took a risk they saw as necessary, but they’re damn blind. Every person who underestimated Petar died tragically. Horribly. The memory of Gemma and Milosh’s corpses makes me shudder.
Lucie’s going to hate this. I don’t need to read the texts they exchange to know they’re close. You don’t send that many messages a day to a random person. She’s already lost two parents, I can’t let her lose another.
“I want to be informed of all developments. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
I’m a fucking hypocrite, keeping secrets from them as well. They still have no idea about Lucie’s bodyguards’ execution and who was behind it, but they don’t need to know. I’m the only one who can keep Lucie safe, the only one omniscient in this situation.
“Fine,” Dante says. “But you stay in Edinburgh. Lucie’s safety is our priority right now.”
When I hang up, I’m keyed up. I get up and pace in front of my window, looking at Lucie’s darkened flat. I glance down at the street and the man who’s been walking his dog every single night. The mutt always stops on Lucie’s doorstep. As he does most nights, the dog’s owner looks up to where I am.
But this time, it’s more insistent.
He knows I’m here.
His eyes move to Lucie’s window, dark in the dead of night, and I swear I see a vicious smile curl at the corner of his mouth.
Paranoia wins. Or maybe just knowledge. The pattern is too obvious, like he wanted me to see him. Images of my hands around his throat flash in my mind, his blood coating my skin, little pieces of him scattered around me. Violence and destruction are what I crave as I fly down the stairs to get to him. I fling the door of my building open.
“Hey,” I call out.
The guy sees me and runs, abandoning the leash and leaving the little dog behind. I see red and push myself to catch up to him. I’ll start by carving his eyes out for ever setting them on my woman.
My muscles burn but I catch up to him. He grunts when I tackle him to the ground, pressing my whole weight on his back and crushing his sternum onto the unforgiving pavement.
He’s no match for my strength but he struggles anyway, trying to kick my ribs, my groin. One of his hands presses at my jaw, pushing me away. I punch him once. Twice. His nose crunches then bleeds underneath my knuckles.Finally. The slimy red is all I want. Let it bathe me in his life as he takes his last breath. Fuck, the rush of killing goes straight to my head. Adrenaline is my favourite drug after Lucie’s real smiles.
He moans in pain. As his fight leaves him, I take the opportunity to drag him to a nearby alleyway by the collar.
I lift him up and slam him against the wall. His head slaps against the bricks. I’m tempted to do it again, have his brain matter splatter across the dirty wall, but I need information first. I can’t act rash. I’m not just an executioner, like I was under my brother’s command. I’m my own man.
“Who sent you?” I whisper-yell in his face. We’re way too close to civilian homes for my liking but if I have to beat the information out of him, I will.
He doesn’t answer and I break his pinky finger before slapping my hand on his mouth to muffle the sound of his pain. “Answer me!”
He doesn’t. I break another finger. His cries are muffled behind my hand but still he shakes his head, and refuses to answer.
I need to bring him to my flat and torture the truth out of it. I could use the outlet.
Suddenly, his weight becomes heavier, his legs slowly stopping to support him. When I let go, he slumps down on the pavement. I grab his jacket and shake him. Under the street lights, I notice white foam forming at his mouth. “You motherfucker,” I yell into his face this time. I throw two fingers down his throat, forcing him to retch. But it’s too late. The man convulses, but not before he can say his last words.
“Your brother sends his love.”
His eyes are vacant, mouth agape.
Great. Another corpse to carry across the border. Just what I needed.
I grimace and wipe my hands on his clothes. I did not plan on burying anyone tonight.
Petar is escalating things. I’ll need to keep reporting to him with this man’s phone. I don’t see another way. Before I can carry him to be buried outside of city limits, I rummage through his pockets and take his phone. I carry the man on my shoulder, marching to my bike and arranging him as if he was my passenger. It’s gross, his corpse plastered to my back and barely holding on but I don’t have a choice. I’d do anything to protect Lucie, even cuddle with a dead body.
