Page 59 of The Reaper

“Boo!” I tried to make a move forward, not to escape because I wasn’t stupid enough to pull an act like that without a plan, but to rattle them. It worked; they staggered back, almost falling in the process.

“Bunch of fucking babies,” I said, chuckling.

Stocky swung a fist, making contact with my cheek.

It hurt like a son of a bitch, but I was in a psychological war, so I smiled at him. “Is that the best you got?” Why had they sent these guys to kill me instead of the dozens of lethal assassins they had in their arsenal? To be honest, I was insulted. Was this a test? Or were they afraid I’d start killing the cream of the crop? These three were too jumpy to be considered real threats. “Before I kill you, tell me where Heath is.”

“You just wait and see.” Another glare from Stocky promised empty threats.

“Enough!” Shorty said, walking closer to face me. “I should kill you now and be done with it,” he said through gritted teeth.

“You can try. I’m not afraid of death, and definitely not afraid of you three sorry nut sacks,” I taunted. I needed him to get messy so I could finish this and escape. I could already see the fear in their eyes. “Just make sure you actually kill me, because I’m going to enjoy having fun with all of you.”

Seeing the other two look at each other with wide eyes was the cherry on top. I couldn’t hide the laughter that bubbled up from the insanity I’d nurtured for the past decade. To really drive home my point, I spit in Shorty’s face. The mix of phlegm, blood, and saliva dripping over his eye was an extremely satisfying sight.

He was about to throw a hook when the door upstairs slammed open. The dilapidated steps creaked from the weight of the slowly descending newcomer.

Based on the change among the three goons, this was someone important. Shorty backed away, his hands balled at his sides. I thought they were afraid of me, but whoever was descending those steps inspired respect and invoked fear from these men.

I twisted painfully between the two holding me up, preparing myself to fight. They were distracted and this was the opening I needed.

But when I saw the handsome man at the bottom of the stairs wearing my leather jacket, my plans crashed and burned.

“Heath?” I asked. An icy chill washed over me as I put two and two together. I knew there was something different about him, but my obsession with him clouded my judgment.

I’d been played.

Fuck!

And I had spilled my guts to him. I trusted him. I’d told him things I’d never told anyone. I hoped to fucking god he’d leave my grandparents alone. The thought of something happening to them made my blood boil. I was so fucking blind.

“What happened to his face?” he asked one of the men.

“What do you fucking care? It’s not like we’re gonna be fucking anymore,” I barked. I couldn’t believe I’d been betrayed again. First Wolf, now Heath? My chest hurt so bad it felt like my heart was beating around an icepick.

“Release him,” Heath ordered, commanding the men to uncuff my hands. His eyes never left mine, but I couldn’t read behind the veil of impassivity. Were any of the things he’d told me true? Or were they all part of his plan? He was so stoic and calm, I felt a twinge of panic.

The Priests. I’d heard about them, of course, because they were more elusive than me. They were lineage assassins that could be traced back to the Crusades. An invisible spearhead of the Catholic Church. They were ruthless.

I was in trouble.

“No wonder you’re so good at fucking,” I taunted, to hide the rage and fear brewing inside.

Heath took a deep breath. “Release him,” he repeated.

“Are you sure?” Stocky asked, a frown on his face.

“Yes,” Heath said, still staring at me. His features softened to the one I’d come to know. “We’ll let him die with dignity.”

Hesitantly, Stocky fished the keys out of his pockets. They dangled at his side, rattling when he neared me. His hands were trembling, perhaps from the prospect of cutting me loose.

I smirked at Stocky, waggling my eyebrows before I returned my attention back to the real monster in the room. “Why’d they send you to kill me?” I asked. I wanted to hear it from him. I’d been careful, making sure that only a handful of people knew of my plan to expose The Firm.

“You know why,” Heath whispered.

“Yeah, fucker,” Shorty piped in, interrupting adult conversation.

I doubted the three unfortunate souls understood who they shared a basement with.

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