Page 45 of Tainted Love

“Sacrifices are a part of every war. Once my father makes his, you and I can rebuild Chicago into something greater.”

“I’m not interested.”

He inhales slowly, stretching way down into his bravery to quell the tremble in his voice. “If your girl didn’t waltz over to our table at that very moment, all of this would have ended last night.”

“You saying I owe you something?”

“I’m saying either you do… or she does.”

I dig my nails into my palms, deep enough to draw blood. “Leave her out of this.”

“Gladly,” he says. “Just help me take him out and all will be forgiven.”

“I’m not looking for a promotion, kid.”

“Is that a no, then?”

I pause, not even flinching at his sudden shift in patience. I really don’t have time for this crap, but I can’t burn this bridge just yet. At least not until I’m out of Illinois. Then, he can go as viva la revolution as he fucking wants.

“Let me think it over, Marty.”

His eyes roam my front hall again. “This can’t wait, Hart.”

“What’s the big rush?”

His phone rings in his pocket. “Excuse me.”

I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to throw him out by his earlobe while he answers it. It’s only a matter of time before Spencer starts to stink up the place and I’ve got mid-morning traffic to beat. Then again, Marty’s disgusting aftershave will probably cover it up just fine for now.

“Hello?” He looks at the floor. “No, Dad, I didn’t see the news this morning.”

Fuck me.

Well, it was nice knowing you, kid. I guess the revolution will have to start without you.

I reach behind my back to grip my gun as his eyes slowly rise off the floor and land on me.

“You don’t say? Yes, sir.” He looks at me with a half-smile. “No, I’ll take care of it myself.”

I grip the gun and quietly flick the safety off.

“Bye, Dad.” Marty lowers the phone from his ear and slides it back into his breast pocket. “Well…” He clears his throat. “That was an interesting phone call.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“It appears that I’ve made a mistake coming to talk to you today, Hart.”

“Maybe you have.”

“Then again…” His brows bounce. “An undercover agent might be just what I need to slither my way up the crime ladder.”

“Sorry, kid.” I cringe at his pun. “I’m retired.”

He chuckles and reaches behind his back. “I hoped you’d say that.”

His arm jerks forward, drawing his gun from his belt. I do the same, moving far faster than his inexperienced hands. I line up his face in my sights and pull the trigger before he even extends his elbow. His flight responses pull him back but not fast enough to dodge the bullet striking just below his right eye.

I grab my bag from the corner and bolt out the front door before his body even touches the floor.

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