If they are as deranged as those looks flickering in their eyes, my body hums to observe how they handle this situation. You’d be surprised at what people resort to when their life is on the line. Or maybe they have been waiting for the perfect moment for their vile nature to come out and play like the rest of us, if it hasn’t already.
We’re in tune with people as disturbed as us. Plus, Vincent and Nolan have been watching them closely for the last few weeks. Vincent is never wrong with these things. He knows which security guards we present thisopportunityto. If he had any ounce of doubt, we wouldn’t be here.
Brody is sitting to my left, with a bag of popcorn, like it's a usual Saturday movie night. A few other men surround us, all eager to watch the show start.
He puts some in his mouth and crunches. “We haven’t had one of these in a while. It’s about damn time.”
Rowan and Cathal’s heads chaotically whip back and forth, and Brody leans over, typing and clicking places on the screen to ensure the monitors update in sync with catching movements throughout the park.
When I see their fists clenched by their sides, their legs apart in a ready stance, I grin. “Here we go.”
A horn blows. The sound may be muted through the speakers, but I feel it vibrate through my bones like I’m standing there in person, watching this shit-show go down. Rowan and Cathal take off in the same direction, toward the roller coaster at the far end, where the edge of the park meets the forest line that crawls up the hill to the Lachlan Estate. Cathal blows past his friend, Rowan, who's struggling to sprint against the agonizing pain of everywhere I stabbed him. But it's the wound in his stomach that he is gripping as he runs.
I let Imogen heal him enough to keep him alive, and I’m glad I did.
Reaching for some popcorn, I pop it into my mouth.
This is entertaining as hell.
We all lean closer to the monitors as the restaurant doors fly open, the two new security guards racing across the park’s center in the direction of the two bastards who should already be dead.
I inwardly sigh. I should’ve killed them weeks ago.
I guess I do have a minuscule shred of humanity left somewhere. For some reason, I recognize it more now with Kate around. Perhaps that’s why I don’t feel like having more blood on my hands tonight and finishing this job myself, as I should have the moment I found out they defied our orders.
Reaching for the popcorn again, I think better of it. Is that why I have an odd sensation, cutting through my gut, as I think about Kate and watch this game unfold simultaneously? Watching the four bodies dart across the screens, I recognize the feeling as distress. Alarm.
Over what, I’m not sure.
I train my eyes on the monitors, ignoring the voices of my men behind me as they make commentary about the chase.
Cathal is far ahead now, while Rowan is falling behind, spitting curses into the air that barely drift through the speakers. There is some delight in knowing this is taking place above us.We may not be able to hear their blood pumping, their frenzied heartbeats, and hectic breaths through the five feet of concrete, but somehow it vibrates the earth, injecting it into my bones.
I’m sure Rowan hears the oncoming rapid footsteps pounding the earth, but he knows his time is up. He’ll put up a fight, though. That bastard is as obstinate as a goldfish you wish would die but won't. Proving me right, he turns, getting into a stance that has a wicked smirk pulling at my mouth.
Brett blows past him, headed for Cathal as the next security guard, Lex, screeches to a stop ten feet in front of him, tilting his head in challenge as they stand off.
Their mouths move; words are exchanged that the security system can’t catch enough to be intelligible. Lex stalks toward him, and everyone surrounding the monitor leans closer in anticipation.
Rowan growls, sprinting at Lex with his fists flying. His stomach wound must have popped open when he was running, because his hands are caked in blood as he swings a fist. The security guard barely dodges it, his check getting swiped with Rowan’s knuckles.
For only a moment, shock registers, Lex’s eyes widening at Rowan’s bloodied state and hysterics. Lex stumbles, trying to regain his ground. When he takes a second to steady himself, his metaphorical armor, I know his true nature has overtaken every other instinct. His hands snap out to grip Rowan’s t-shirt in his fists.
Their bodies do the deranged dance, which usually gives me a pang of satisfaction, but it's not there. Instead, I watch, my eyes narrowing at them while I try to ignore the discomfort scraping at my skin.
On one of the other screens, Brett has Cathal in a headlock, the man’s face looking like those red balloons children carry all over the park.
But it’s this other confrontation that my focus won’t stray from.
Rowan flails around in a chaotic whirr of limbs, howling as Lex swings him around by the collar, tossing his body across the pavement like a leaf caught in the wind. He crawls, his bloody, calloused hands clawing at the pavement for leverage. Lex grabs his legs to flip him over. Rowan is a big man with a beer belly that accounts for most of his weight, but Lex rolls him over like he’s nothing more than a feather. Swinging a leg over, he straddles his waist.
In a split second, Rowan manages to land a fist to the center of Lex’s face, his vile mouth dispensing rage-filled words I crave to hear. It’s as if the bone cracking splits through the hair, the hairs on my neck standing on end.
Both their bodies are still.
Every breath in proximity to the monitors is being held.
The security guard swipes the back of his hand under his nose, peering at the red streak across his skin. Not wasting another valuable second, he rears back, his fists pummeling into Rowan’s face. Rowan’s body flails under him, but Lex doesn’t stop, giving us the relentless and unforgiving hand-to-hand combat we’ve been anticipating.
