Page 50 of Vicious Hearts

I hear the words biting through the air as I come around the stairs and find two men leaning over Caleph Rojas. One is a huge Russian in a suit, the muscle man. The other is a man I recognize as one of the politicians who had a hand in Ariadne Moore’s bounty. I already dislike both men on principle. Never mind that they’re both waving their guns at a weaponless man lying on his back on the ground.

Caleph Rojas is synonymous with power. He’s known as an absolute beast in these parts. Regardless of his current position, I know for a fact that he’s never gone up against a man with his bare fists and not come out winning.

It’s not a just fight when he’s on the floor without a weapon and both men are hiding behind their metal. Even I can admit that. No matter what Rojas may think of me.

I know that at any minute, one of those men is going to pull the trigger, and when he does, Caleph Rojas will cease to be and will be on his way to meet his maker. It could so easily be me on that floor. So easily. But it isn’t.

I’ve been dead for five years. Dead heart. Dead soul. A dead man walking. When they took Sisely from me, something inside me snapped. Life had been like going on a long happy ride, and suddenly, mid-trip, someone turns off the ignition. That’s how it felt when I lost Sisely. And after that day, I couldn’t start my car again.

Her brother Marden has fared better than I. He wants his revenge, just as much as I do, but in his words – ‘we can’t be stupid about it’. But I’m an impatient man, and I don’t think I can get closure until I make my wife’s killers pay for their crime.

Something inside me stirs, like a thin film around my heart snapping ever so slowly, its elasticity warring between good and evil, light and dark.

“It will be so much easier to get to your little girlfriend with you out of the way,” the politician says.

His words are like a match to my already simmering rage, igniting a fire within me that blazes out of control. The heat rises in my chest and explodes through my body, consuming me with fire. Any man that plots to kill a woman is the lowest of the low and doesn’t deserve a place here on earth.

I think of Sisely, of the pain that has consumed me since I lost her. No one deserves to live through that. That is why I’ve been chasing danger like it’s a bad drug I need to sustain myself. I’m running from the pain by running toward danger. But I wouldn’t wish that sort of pain on any man.

Caleph Rojas and I aren’t all that different from each other, after all. The only difference between us is he has the opportunity to destroy the men that threaten to destroy his woman, and he’s doing everything in his power to protect her. I never had that chance, that opportunity to change the hand of fate. He was one of the lucky few. And who was I to stand in his way?

I lift my gun and aim, deciding on the Russian first. He’s the professional with the trigger-happy finger. The politician would be slow to move once he gets splattered with his cohort’s blood.

I pull the trigger, putting two bullets in the Russian’s back. And before he can even turn to see who the shooter is, I have the gun pressed to the back of the politician’s head and I’ve disarmed him. My eyes flit to Rojas on the ground as he gets up and takes the gun from my waiting hand. I watch as he lifts it without a word and puts a bullet in the man’s head, his brains splattering all over my new shirt.

* * *

Marden islucky to get away with a scrape. His wound isn’t enough to kill him today, but I may kill him tomorrow if he keeps cracking bad jokes.

When we finally contain the scene and survey the carnage, Attila gives a low whistle at the sheer number of men we decimated. We lost a few of our men, but their fatalities far outweighed ours. And the best part of it is the politicians were all killed in their own ambush.

“You coming back?” Marden asks, a gleam in his eyes. He’s been bitching for two years for me to come back and work with him. He believes this is the opening he needs.

“Not if you keep recycling those bad jokes.”

“The money’s yours,” Rojas says, walking past Marden as we bandage his arm up. It’s more money than we’ve ever seen and it’s going to give our organization the lift it so desperately needs. It’s even more than Marden and Attila agreed on, but what’s that saying – never look a gift horse in the mouth.

There’s a cleaning crew moving bodies and washing down walls. Attila guides them through the scene and makes sure they don’t miss anything before he comes back and stands with us.

“Your girl going to be safe now?” Marden asks Rojas.

“Mygirlwill only be safe when she’s far from me,” he mumbles.

Rage thrums off him in waves, not unlike the time I met him at his home. Marden raises his eyebrows in question but says nothing as Rojas continues to pace up and down the space where we stand. Our heads swing back and forth as we follow his movements.

Attila pushes off the wall he’s leaning against and moves toward Rojas, putting a hand to his shoulder to stop his pacing.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s go home,” he says.

Rojas looks up at his friend, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck. There’s obviously something occupying his mind.

“Thank you,” he says, looking from me to Marden. “I owe you.”

48

ARIADNE

Ididn’t think we’d be travelling together, but Caleph insists I fly with him back to the States on his private jet since he’s going there anyway. He’s made sure the bounty has been cancelled and he’s paved the way for my safe return, including Arsen, his newly acquired asset who’ll act as my capable bodyguard for the foreseeable future.

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