Aiden realized these men had not been sent to simply interrogate him. They were here to get the information out of him one way or another, and once they had it, to kill him.
Heeding Marcus’ repeated advice to let Claudia rest in peace should’ve been what Aiden had done. Ignoring his pride and stupid gut feeling and letting her go even if things hadn’t exactly added up. Instead, he’d kept digging and done the one thing Marcus couldn’t overlook—he’d found out the truth and then arrogantly thought he could outplay a DuLaurent at their own game.
Really, what had Aiden been thinking, believing that a fake ID and a capable PI were all it would take for him to solve a mysterious death that the authorities themselves didn’t want solved? Why hadn’t he put two and two together sooner, realized that whoever was behind this wouldn’t simply allow him to poke his nose where it didn’t belong?God, he’d been so focused on the end goal, so obsessed with Darren Howe, that he’d ignored all the little signs.
Blood thrumming in his ears, Aiden acted on impulse just as Fedora Guy opened his mouth to say something. Adrenaline flooded him as his fight-or-flight response kicked in, and before he’d even realized what he was doing, he lunged at the man standing by the door. Grabbing the tablet pen, he slammed it right into the artery along the guy’s neck. Blood spurted everywhere, but Aiden didn’t even register it because one single directive dominated his mind as he twisted and buried the pen deeper.
He had to kill these men before they killed him.
Hauling the still writhing body to the side, Aiden ducked behind it as bullets flew in his direction. One managed to graze his forearm, but he felt no pain with the adrenaline high in his bloodstream. Later, he would worry about it; all that he needed to worry about now was surviving.
Aiden reached for the gun he’d seen strapped around the dead man’s hip, but he didn’t get the chance to snatch it as the other man bolted at him and a gloved hand grasped his wrist. It squeezed, yanking him forward and smashing his side into the table’s edge. Sharp pain knocked the air out of his lungs and he slumped onto the floor, gasping. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the kick coming just in time to roll to the left and avoid the worst of it. Instead of his head, the right side of his back took the hit.
“Fuck!” Aiden cried out, pain exploding all over his already sore shoulder blade. Black dots appeared all over his vision, but he ignored them, reaching for the table’s leg so he could slide around it and launch his legs at the standing man’s knees. The force of the impact threw Fedora Guy off balance, and he landed on the floor, glasses flying off toward the window.
Before he’d even yelped, Aiden rushed at him, pinning him with thighs and weight in a sorry excuse for an immobilizing hold that somehow did the job. It had been years since he had practiced, so his moves were uncoordinated, but,hell, was he glad he’d kept his body in shape. Clasping his hands around the man’s throat, he squeezed, going for a strangling choke.
It took about a minute for Fedora Guy to stop thrashing. Aiden let go and rolled off the man, heart rate through the roof and blood pounding in his ears. He stayed withhis hands splayed on his face until the violent scorch in his chest was bearable and he could breathe without wheezing.
The realization of what he’d done crashed into him, turning his stomach upside down. He’d killed someone. Two someone-s, with his own hands. A tremor elevated his heart rate again.He’d had no choice. It was him or them, because even if he had cooperated, he had already become a liability to Marcus. A lying pawn that had outlasted its use.
Aiden stuffed down the nausea and focused on what he needed to do next. When his brain successfully compartmentalized what had happened and what he’d done, he sat up. His first thought was relief that this part of the station wasn’t manned. And then he realized he didn’t have much time left. He needed to rush for the next shuttle and get the fuck away from this place, grab some money and leave Europa.
But then what?When news of this reached Marcus, he’d go after Aiden and he would be in an interrogation room, or worse, in no time. Besides, whenwasthe next shuttle even? In four hours? Five? Marcus would be here long before then.
“Fuck!”
Aiden rushed to the tablet Fedora Guy had been using. The screen had gone black, telling him he wouldn’t be getting past the lock screen. He stared at it, then at the dead men, a sense of dread settling over him not just because of what he’d had to do. He tried to swallow it down, but couldn’t stop the shivers. Marcus’ goons were probably meant to check in once they’d finished interrogating Aiden, and when they didn’t, there’d be dozens of themhere within the hour. They’d storm the place and he would have nowhere to hide.
Taking a deep inhale, Aiden closed his eyes and blocked out everything. He needed to calm down, to pause for a moment, and think.
But thinking was so hard. His head was a mess, the constant ache back along with the stinging pain along his shoulder and arm. What was he going to do? What could he even do? When had the inspectors arrived? How long did he have?
Head spinning, he forced his thoughts to slow down, focusing on one problem at a time. The fake inspectors had arrived maybe about thirty minutes ago. It would take them an hour or so to question him. And then they would call Marcus. When they failed to do so, he’d know something had gone wrong and he’d send reinforcements.
Two hours. At most.That was how much time Aiden had to get off the station. He squinted at the clock above the door. The next shuttle was not due for another four.
Controlling his shaking hands as much as he could, Aiden flipped over the body of the man he’d stabbed with the tablet pen and snatched the loaded gun. Because of the checkpoint he had to go through, he couldn’t take it upstairs, so he decided to hide it here on this level and pick it up on his way out. He moved on to Fedora Guy and took his long coat. He traded it for his ruined vest, though didn’t bother to remove his torn shirt. He didn’t even glance at the wound on his arm, deeming that if it wasn’t bleeding profusely, it was probably fine.
Aiden took out his phone next, but stopped himself before he’d booked a private shuttle to come pick him up. Was his phone tapped? Was that how Marcus had found out he knew about the hideout? He couldn’t use it then,or Marcus would immediately know his men had messed up. Wired money… was the same. It could be tracked, spied on. He needed cash from somewhere. But where the fuck was he going to get it the short window of time he had?Assuming he even found a way to get off Horizons without getting caught.
Nerves on edge, Aiden took a deep breath.One problem at a time.He left the room and hid the gun in a restroom, already mapping his escape route. He’d go through the storage areas and avoid all personnel.
Once in the elevator that would take him to the prison floor, it occurred to him that someone on the inside had to have known about this. Someone here was working for Marcus. It didn’t matter who it was anymore, so he didn’t waste what mental capacity he had left on it. He tried to gather his thoughts instead. Lunch break had started ten minutes ago, so most of the guards would be in the staff room, granting him about forty minutes to pull off a near-impossible escape.
How was he going to do it?He couldn’t use his laptop or phone and he couldn’t ask any of the staff for theirs because he didn’t know who Marcus’ inside man was.
Turning the corner, Aiden stopped dead in his tracks, a suffocating episode freezing him mid-step. Even if he made it out of Horizons alive, what was he going to do? Where would he go? How would he get money? His apartment was out of the question, his bank accounts were useless and worst of all, he couldn’t trust anyone. Not even Rick, because he couldn’t drag his best friend into this mess and risk getting him killed like PI Deverson.
Aiden clutched his chest, trying to fight off the panic, then shoved his hand in his pocket in search of Claudia’s stone. Itwasn’tthere. A sense of uncontrollable grief andanger spread through him as he realized he must’ve lost it during the fight with the two impostor inspectors, but as much as he wanted to go back and find it, he couldn’t afford to waste any time.
Marcus had him at a checkmate, his only option to call for a shuttle and hope it would get here before Marcus’ men. If it even got dispatched, because Marcuscouldground it, couldn’t he? Aiden hung his head back and stared at the ceiling.
Was that it then? The end of his road? He was going to go down without even asking for help because he had no one he trusted.
Shouting from the fields outside pulled his attention, unleashing a soul-shaking shudder from his head to his toes.No.Therewasone man who Aiden could trust, as much as he hated to admit it. One last ace he could play against Marcus now that he had nothing left to lose but his life.
Darren Howe.
