Page 74 of Unexpected Complication

We had agreed last night, as he helped me escape for a few hours, it was go time. We were turning up the heat over the next few days. Money, drugs, and people were all going to disappear—and Orson was going to be so angry, he was going to make a mistake. As he melted down, I was going to take control.

Then he would die…and my life could begin.

Chapter 17

Cian

Days later, I felt as if I were drowning in blood.

I knew how hard it was going to be. I’d thought I was prepared.

But that was before I had allowed myself to feel another emotion in my life besides the need for revenge.

Before I fell in love with a cranky, name-calling girl named Skylar.

Now, everything was harder.

I was two people, inhabiting the body of one.

Tony, the killer who’d thought nothing this morning of pulling his gun and shooting a man who had the audacity to question Orson’s leadership, after yet another shipment of drugs and their carrier seemed to vanish into thin air.

My gun was out and he was dead before I even blinked. I tucked the gun away, picked up the coffee I was drinking, and carried on as if nothing had happened.

Orson looked over his desk. “Clean that up, Rex. I hate garbage in my office.”

I left the office, strolling down the hall nonchalantly after muttering about needing a sandwich. I slipped outside, disappearing from their prying eyes and ears. Cian reappeared, heaving and gasping into the bushes, my body shaking, praying for this to be over. Sean found me a short time later, sitting on the ground, my head in my hands.

“Two more days,” he stated. “I have it all programmed for two days. Can you make it?”

I nodded.

He leaned forward, grabbing my arm. “Are you sure? Your nightmares are bad. Really bad. I’m worried.”

I knew they were. I’d wake up sweating and shaking, my throat dry with fear. Sean had started sleeping in my room, waking me up before I began shouting out in my sleep and blowing my cover. He looked as exhausted as I felt.

“I have to see it through. I have to.”

Sean’s voice was low and serious. “I need you to come out of this in one piece. I know you have an agenda, but you need to understand I do as well. I will pull this whole fucking operation and kill him myself if I have to. I’d fucking kill them all before I lost you.”

“I can do this. It’s almost done.” I drew in a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “Any word about our, ah, animal problem?”

He shook his head. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Nothing?”

He kicked at a lump in the snow, cursing. “I shouldn’t have shown you that message. I thought her name-calling would make you laugh, not send you over the edge. I’m sure she’s resting.”

“For two days?” I tugged on my hair.

“Stop worrying.”

“Worried?” I hissed. “I’m beyond worried. I’m fucking frantic.”

Two days ago, Sean had handed me the phone. I’d grabbed it, pressing play. Skylar appeared, sitting on the edge of the bed. She was dressed in my sweatshirt and wrapped in a blanket. Her nose was bright red and her eyes watery. She smiled and waved. “Got a cold, fuckwit. I bet you gave it to me with your cooties. Thanks.”

She sneezed and reached for a tissue, blowing her nose loudly. “You could have left some chicken soup somewhere.” Then her voice dropped. “Be safe. I miss you.” She stood and walked away from the camera, the sound of her coughing fading away as she left the room. She looked terrible.

She hadn’t sent another message, and I was going crazy with worry.