Page 35 of Saber's Surrender

“I don’t want her to ever know that she killed him,” I state.

“She won’t,” Wrecker vows. “As a matter of fact, she’ll forget this entire confrontation.”

“You gonna work your voodoo magic on her, Wrecker?” I ask in a teasing manner.

“Sure am. There’s no reason she should have to carry this burden for the rest of her life. She acted like it didn’t bother her, but I have a feeling once the adrenaline wears off, it’ll hit her like a two ton brick.”

“I think you’re right about that,” I agree. “What are we going to do about him?”

“We’re waiting for the cleanup crew to arrive,” Weston informs me. “The lot will be spic and span when they finish.”

“That won’t draw any attention.” I snort. “There’s always debris from trash littering it. Not to mention the oil spills from vehicles that stain the asphalt. You don’t want it too clean or employees will get suspicious.”

“You’re right,” Weston concurs. “We’ll just make sure there’s no blood puddles or brain matter left behind.”

“No trace of DNA,” Wrecker adds. “Not our first tour on the block.”

“You men and your metaphors,” I say, before realizing we may have another issue on our hands. “Has anyone seen Frank?”

“The security guard?” Weston asks, suddenly on alert. “He wasn’t manning the gate when we pulled in. When’s the last time he checked in?”

“I’m not sure, I didn’t see him when we came out. Miranda and I were curious about where he was because he usually meets us at the entrance and walks us to our cars.”

“You two go and see if you can’t track him down and we’ll stay here and wait for the others to arrive,” RiffRaff proposes. He’s been so quiet, more of a bystander and observer than a participant that I almost forgot he came with the men.

“Thanks, brother,” Weston says, reaching up and placing his hand on RiffRaff’s shoulder. “For everything.”

“That’s what brothers are for,” RiffRaff surmises. “Go find this Frank character and make sure he’s alright. I’d hate to find out this jackass cousin of yours did anything to a man who protects the women when they leave.”

“We’ve checked everywhere. His car is still in the lot and his lunch is sitting on his desk, which means he didn’t leave,” I say, frustration and worry weighing me down.

I like Frank, but then again, I like most people. Those who act entitled or are plain old assholes are the exception. And I never take anything a patient says seriously especially if they’re in pain because I know that’s likely not how they usually behave.

“Let’s head inside and see if they’ve seen him,” Weston suggests, reaching out and tugging me closer. He wraps one arm around my shoulders and nestles me into his side.

And just like that, it’s as if all the tempestuous years are gone. We’re walking together like we did when we were younger and didn’t have all the responsibilities we have now.

“Good idea, Weston. If they’ve seen Frank they’ll direct us to him.”

When we hit the lobby, we notice that he’s next to a man who’s sitting in a wheelchair. He has a puzzled look on his face as he stares down at him and doesn’t look happy.

“Frank?” I call out his name. “Everything alright?”

“I’m not sure,” Frank remarks. “This gentleman passed out on the sidewalk in front of the gates so I came and got a wheelchair and an orderly to help me get him inside. Now, the guy’s refusing service since he’s come around. Says he’s okay, but if that’s the case, why’d he pass out like a damsel in distress?”

“Not sure,” Weston answers. “But if he’s not needing to be seen, Roxy and I can help him outside.”

I glance up at Weston and see the blankness on his face. He’s watching this guy, scrutinizing him. It’s then it clicks for me that this man was Jiovanni’s distraction. His lackey. It’s how he got past Frank in the first place. I shudder to think what could’ve happened if Miranda hadn’t reached Weston. Things could be far more dire than the guys waiting to get the parking lot cleaned up and the body disposed of without anyone noticing.

“God I’m glad he’s done and dusted,” I mutter so only Weston can hear me. “Oh, and someone probably needs to do something to the cameras too. It won’t do any good for Wrecker to remove Miranda’s memories if there’s proof.”

Weston leans in and whispers directly in my ear, “Fuck, yeah, we’ll get Beast on that as soon as possible. Wrecker will never say otherwise because the end result was gonna be the same, but he had plans to get his pound of flesh from Jiovanni.”

My eyes widen in shock when it dawns on me that Miranda’s assistance thwarted Wrecker’s revenge. From the sound of things, he has been waiting years to get his hands on Jiovanni. Part of me feels bad because he didn’t get his revenge, but then again, in a way he did—Ji never saw Miranda coming at all since he was so focused on antagonizing Wrecker to force a confrontation.

“Maybe he’ll be satisfied with this man in Ji’s place since apparently, he’s one of his flunkies. We can even giftwrap him,” I recommend, giving him my cheerleader grin.

“You’d make his day,” Weston chuckles. “We’ll take it from here, Frank.”

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