Page 64 of All That Glitters

I slide my fingers along the edge of the desk.

“What are you doing, Marcus?”

“What is it you think I’m doing?” I ask instead. “Since you’re the one in control, Heath. Tell me.”

“I think you’re trying to outmaneuver me, but you have nowhere to run,” Parker answers. “Desperation isn’t a good look, especially when you know I’ll put a bullet between her eyes.”

Empire yelps.

What I wouldn’t give to see her smile again, something broad and real and without the usual restraint of her grief. It’s been such a long time since her lips lifted in the gesture without any kind of caveat. Her smiles have always been the light I’ve looked forward to, the bright spots of my bleak existence.

Parker is right about one thing: no matter how far I’ve tried to distance myself from the family; they come for us all in the end. Once you’re in, you’re in forever, and probably beyond death.

Empire is going to smile again if it’s the last thing I accomplish.

We just have to make it out of this first.

“Be careful and really think about your next move,” Parker continues. “The Family won’t be happy if you shoot me. You’ll get yourself into deeper trouble than you’re already in. Besides, we go back too far for you to kill me.”

“Oh, I know. Which is why this is an easy choice,” I tell him. Movements slow and restrained, I pull my own gun out from my desk and point it at Parker. A second is all I get, no room for hesitation.

His eyes widen, and I pull the trigger without hesitation, landing a shot directly through his chest.

The silencer hides all noise except for his clutch and exhalation. I follow the first shot with a second between his eyes, but his fingers have already slackened, and his gun drops to the floor. The thud is followed by a second soft impact as Parker collapses to his knees. His body folds until he’s in the fetal position on his side, the life draining from his eyes.

I feel nothing.

It’s like riding a bike.

No one tells you how easy it is to take a life, how there will be nothing but numbness for the longest time, and even then, the mental repercussions may not show themselves for the longest time.

Parker had to go.

His death is only a tightening of the chain around my ankle, the one I’ve ignored for long enough. The one I willingly slipped back on.

Except Empire is there, staring at me like I’m a stranger, shaking, crying. Her face is white, and two twin spots of bright color dot her cheeks along with the blood spatter from the hit.

I tear my attention away from her long enough to catch the twin looks of surprise on the faces of the two men Parker brought inside with him. They quickly mask any emotions and resume their look of detached apathy. Well, one of them.

The guy who’d brought Empire into the room holds his hands up in front of him. “Whoa, there!”

The classic please-don’t-shoot-me-next fear ripples off him. I practically taste it on my tongue. Slowly, I set my gun back down, ignoring the thin trails of smoke from the nozzle.

Whoever the men were, Parker must have hired them without inquiring too deeply about their prior experience. Or perhaps Stanic assigned the underlings to Parker, and they’ve seen no action since then. The one on the left got himself back together quicker than his cohort, as one on the right has turned a distinctive shade of fish gill green, staring down at Parker’s rapidly cooling corpse. Not professionals by any stretch of the imagination, no matter how much they bench press or how willing they were to play with the big boys.

The one who’d spoken looks back over at me and swallows hard.

Empire sobs, the sound low and heartbroken, as she slowly sinks down into the chair in front of the desk. Her father’s office, I think distantly. “Marcus?” She starts to shake, and her fingers grasp the arms so tightly, her knuckles go white.

I push aside all regret, all shame at the ruinous part I’ve played in her life, not only recently, but back, back, back when her mother first gave me a chance to manage her rapidly growing career. They took a chance on me, and look at what I’ve done to repay them.

More death, and this time, it’s splattered all over their daughter.

I’ll make my apologies to her later, when we’re alone. Right now, I push every bit of sentiment and emotion down to a small part of my head and refuse to examine them, refuse to show any kind of weakness in front of the men.

There are steps to take before we have our moment, Empire and I, and right now, those steps must be executed flawlessly and without hesitation.

To these men, I cannot show weakness.

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