Page 68 of Mine to Keep
Before the doctor started pressing on his belly and putting a fucking finger in his gunshot wound, he removed the bullet from his calf and sewed it up, wrapping a pristine white bandage around it that was now dotted with bright red blood. Then he jabbed Skylar in the side with a numbing agent and made quick work of stitching the wound closed.
After he was done, the doctor left, and Skylar was alone.
More alone than he’d been in years. Even when he was off on another job without Martha, he knew he’d come back to her.
He looked over at Martha’s bags, her shirts and pants spilling out of luggage he’d begged her to repack. She’d shot him a look and quipped, “Why, when I’ll just go back into it later?”
There was no later for her. Not anymore.
He toed one of her high heels, his throat tightened with grief. Heels she’d never wear again.
Skylar’s pulled out his phone to call his handler, exhausted after the events of tonight. But he needed to talk to his handler before he was pulled under for a grief-filled nap.
“Speak,” his handler said.
“I need Viper dead.”
“Sorry about Martha.”
“Need him dead, man. Nothing else matters.”
“We don’t have his location. After your show down, he went underground. I can help more when he makes an appearance.”
Skylar sat up suddenly, grinding his teeth to keep his hiss at bay. “I need him deadnow. Fucking find him or I’m going to find you.”
He had never met his handler but would go through hell or high water to get to him if he didn’t get what he needed.
A pause, then, “I’ll get right on it. Where are you?”
“Still in Toronto. Wherever he is, I’ll get there.”
“Understood.”
“Round me up three guys that are good shots. Doesn’t matter if it’s rifle, handgun, or a fucking Gatling gun. Send them to my room. I don’t want Viper to walk away alive.”
“Understood.”
“Before you go,” Skylar said, his eyes landing on the empty sheath of Martha’s holster. “Get me a set of matched blades, serrated, at least ten inches. I’ll kill him the same way he killed my wife.”
With that, Skylar hung up the phone.
twenty-three
we good?
Oliviaand I would have talked long into the night, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I felt tired and wrung out, so I went into the room and climbed between my boys, pulling them close so I could feel their warmth.
I smile as they turn into me, both of them cuddling close. Kissing each of their foreheads in turn, I whisper, “I love you.”
The words feel foreign on my tongue, since I haven’t uttered them in years, and I’ve never said them to anyone I was romantically involved with.
A soft voice—Talon’s—whispers, “Love you too, Daddy Koda.” Then he’s back to sleep.
I fall asleep with a smile on my face, though my heart is heavy with worry. For them, for our future. Nothing else matters but keeping them safe.
I’m not sure how long I was asleep, but I’m woken by my ringing phone. I startle, which scares my boys awake as well. I shush them, letting them know it’s my phone, but they both still look frightened. After being run off the road and shot at, I can understand why.
“It’s okay,” I soothe them, kissing them on their foreheads. “Nothing will happen to you here.”
