Page 72 of The Shadows We Keep

“You know, you sure show a lot of interest in a girl you seem to know nothing about,” he taunts, trying to goad me into revealing some insightful secret he seems to think I’m hiding.

“Just trying to figure out what it is exactly you want me to do. I’m still waiting on that tidbit of information.” I pause, thinking it over.

“I mean, it can’t be that you want me to find her. Those photos are evidence enough that your man had no problem following her around at one point. So, what would you need me for?” I’m dying to see if he’ll give away a sign that confirms my suspicion. But it seems the family business raised him. I’m sure they teach blank stare 101, in elementary. His teacher would be so proud because he’s acing it right now.

“If it’s not that you want me to find her, what else could it be? More information on her?” I probe again, at this point I must be annoying the shit out of him. I take immense joy in the possibility.

His eye twitches at my continued questions, no doubt on the edge of reaction.

“Or is that it? You’ve lost her and can’t find her again.” The laughter builds and escapes, echoing out into the open space. Of course, they have. Last night was the first day in a week I let her out of my sights. Her fight to go to work and not let me keep her safe at home was one she had to work hard to sell me on. Our compromise, she put in for an emergency leave starting today. We tried our luck on the possibility that someone was still watching.

The punch comes from my right, landing square against my jaw. My head whips to the side, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth quickly.

A wicked smile creeps onto my face. I expected him to dole out some pain once his handler left. The problem is, pain doesn’t shut me down. No it only livens the dark entity that hides in my depraved depths. His pleased smirk riles me further. But when I spit the excess moisture in my mouth at his feet, he snaps.

His fists batter against my body, but it’s the punch to the gut that gives me the opportunity to transfer my weight forward. Lifting my arms up quickly, when they’re released momentarily at the weight shift, I pull them down with the force needed to snap the plastic cuffs freeing my wrist and giving me the advantage, they sought to remove.

A calm washes over me as my body dances through the movements I’ve trained it to over the last year. Dropping to a knee, I slide the blades I promised myself I wouldn’t need to resort to free. But they’re my only option since the brick wall patted me down, and felt my piece tucked behind my back. relieving me of it. Idiot only did a half-assed job, not searching the inside of my boots.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” The cold metal of my own gun presses against my temple.

I still my hands, blades still clutched tightly in my grasps. A tut from up above and a shove of the barrel, makes me fight against every instinct I have to keep them with me. Instead, I do the opposite letting them clang to the cement.

“He still has some sense in there after all,” he says, tapping the gun against my head.

“You know, I’m sure we can easily find someone else to replace you. You don’t seem worth the hassle. Tyson, get the tarp,” he barks to his quiet bodyguard.

“Look, I don’t think—” A shooting pain radiates against the back of my head. My vision swims with little white spots while bile climbs the back of my throat.

“You’re right, you don’t think. Now, shut up.”

I watch as the thin translucent plastic’s rolled out directly in front of me. A hard shove throws me forward onto my hands.

“Crawl.” The order’s thrown out without care.

My mind whirls, quickly computing distinct possibilities for this scenario. Trying to find a reasonable way out of this.

Before I work out my great escape, a crash sounds from across the warehouse. Everyone’s gaze swings to the offender. It’s the distraction I need to slide back to my discarded blades. Shaking free the last of the disorientation in my head.

The damned stubborn woman refuses to listen, but in this case, I’m relieved. The other two men move quickly in her direction. She doesn’t falter. I watch as she strides nearer without hesitation, quickly subduing Tyson with two quick rounds, one to the chest, the other straight to the head. My interest piques between her comment in the car and her action before me. There are certainly more secrets hiding in that pretty little head of hers.

Blood splatters onto the lone obstacle between us. He pulls up short when his human shield thumps to the ground in front of him. Stalling his advancement in her direction. I watch as his hands shake to keep his gun pointed in her direction. We’re closing in on him, he knows he has nothing to lose. Which only makes him more dangerous for my girl.

Keira, however, doesn’t bat an eye at the gun pointed in her direction. She’s completely collected with her pistol trained to echo the previous shot. But the words pull from my throat before she can. “Keira, don’t.” I call out to her.

His head pivots in my direction, a look of knowing in his eyes, and I know there’s no other choice now. I stride forward, quickly closing the distance between us.

Keira fires again, distracting him for the moment I need to step behind his tense frame, blade at the ready. I bring it to meet his throat.

“You should have just answered my questions,” I state coolly into his ear, before slicing the sharp blade across his throat in one quick motion. Blood spills quickly as I push his body away from me. He panics, gripping at the gaping wound there’s no chance of staunching.

Keira steps up to me, carefully avoiding the blood pooling at my feet, eyes trained on the body count we now share.

“Once again you didn’t listen, little one,” I taunt, brushing a wild curl of hair behind her ear. Her lazy smirk holds an immense amount of proud unvoiced sass.

THIRTY

KEIRA

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