Page 3 of Rising from the Ashes

Angry Zayn is hot as fuck.

We walk into the arena and I can tell his head is on a swivel. “This isn’t what I had in mind when you said killing,” he grumbles.

Placing my ball cap on my head so I blend in with the baseball fans chattering around me, I grin at him, “You’re telling me you’re not a fan of America’s favorite pastime? Color me shocked.”

The look in his eyes could practically shoot daggers into my heart. He’s so serious it makes me laugh out loud hysterically, causing heads to turn. “Jesus, calm down sweetie pie. It ain’t that deep. Don’t blow a gasket on me, old man.”

The muscles in his jaw clench and his teeth grind together as he hisses, “This better be a real job or I swear—”

Swirling my finger at him, “Nu uh uh, you hush now, sugar plum.”

Gently pressing my finger against his full lips, I lean in close to him and whisper, “That guy in the sky box is our target.” I look up at Silas standing there with his arms folded, overlooking the crowd like he owns the place.

I can just barely feel the warmth of Zayn’s lips near mine, and goosebumps form on my arms.

When I pull away from him, I can see the wheels in his head turning. “Careful there, honey. Don’t think too hard, you may strain something.”

Standing up, I adjust my crop top, my breasts causing it to ride up. Not exactly my usual attire while hunting down someone, but it’ll have to do for now.

I hold my hand out to Zayn. “I’ve got this already all figured out, so no need to strain that pretty brain of yours. Just follow me cowboy.”

He ignores my gesture and motions in front of him, “Lead the way.”

Flashing a mischievous grin, I spin on my heels and saunter off, leaving Zayn behind me. Heads turn as I walk through the stadium seating and turn up the steps. Reveling in the attention, I wink at a thin brunette woman whose eyes are following me. She smiles back sheepishly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and ducking her head.

Smirking over my shoulder at Mr. Grumpypants, I continue my ascent up the steps, weaving between seats and patrons. Once out of the stadium section, I grab Zayn’s arm and pull him into a dark corridor.

Holding a finger up to my red lips, I point down the hall at a door, giving him the signal for the service stairwell. He nods in acknowledgment and begins to walk ahead of me. I need him to keep this corridor clear so I can make a clean escape after I inject Silas with the mixture of chemicals in my pocket. I may have wrangled him into this job, but this is my kill.

As he reaches the door, I duck into another stairwell exit, my eyes taken over by tunnel vision. I can hear Zayn shout after me.

It’s time to rid the world of Silas Gold, my father’s right hand man and my former fiance.

It’s time for me to send a message.

I don’t have my usual weapon of choice with me, as carrying a quiver and bow into a crowded arena in broad daylight isn’t exactly ideal. However, for Silas, I chose to personalize this message given our intimate history. Death by an arrow is too quick.

Playing with the syringe in my pocket, a giddy feeling takes over as I think about how Silas is going to look while begging for breath as his esophagus and veins harden.

With my hand on the door knob leading to the sky box, I begin to twist it open. Right before I step inside, I hear the crack of a gun going off, followed by three more shots.

Fuck. Zayn.

My body goes numb for a split second as I turn around and run down the steps leading back to the main stairwell. When I bust through the door, I see Zayn sinking against the wall holding his stomach and another body lying face down on the ground in a pool of blood.

Zayn’s eyes are rolling in the back of his head, his eyelids fluttering. He’s fighting like hell, but struggling to stay awake.

Good first day, Cal. Get someone killed.

“Shit! Oh shit, fuck, shit!” I mutter as I run over, kneeling down next to him.

Grabbing my phone, I dial our designated medical team for emergencies like this.

“Yeah…It’s Zayn.” My voice shakes. “He needs help.”

Throwing my phone to the side, my eyes rake over his body as my hands feverishly search for the source of his injuries, “Hey. Hey, stay with me.”

I look into his eyes and terror wracks through my body as a lone tear falls from his eye down his temple.

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