Page 109 of Skin Deep

“Yeah,” Giant said, stepping out to get closer to Craig’s guy. He took a cigarette out of his pocket, about to light up. “The Ryan brothers sent us. We’re looking for—”

Craig’s guy pulled out a gun and shot him point blank. The impact lifted him off the ground and blew him backward. At the same time the blast went off, the door went to shut to the room. Craig's guy started shoving, but Giant 2, still standing on the other side, was stronger. He was able to barricade himself behind the door.

“Shit,” Lachlan said, his hands tightening around the wheel, like he was preparing to haul ass if the situation turned toward us. I sat forward in my seat some, enjoying the show.

Craig’s guy turned toward John Smith. He lifted his hands as if to say,what now?The two guys with him had taken sentry positions on each side of the walkway, so there was no getting past.

Smith told him to go stand with another one of the guys and stay there. As he started to walk toward the guy closest to the steps, gun fire erupted from the window. Craig’s guy went down as glass shattered in all different directions.

There was nowhere to take cover. Bullets were whizzing wildly through the air. A few landed on our hood.

“Shit,” Lachlan said again.

Smith, who kept his position, took out his gun and aimed at the window. When silence seemed to shock the air, Smith pulled the trigger. Blood splattered all over the white curtains. Must have been Giant 2. Craig’s guys, the two left standing upstairs, went through the window and into the room. Two more shots went off. Giant 3, I assumed. They came back out shaking their heads.

“Where's the asshole?” Lach breathed out.

He was speaking the commentary going through my head.

Sirens wailed in the distance. A head peeked out of a room at the bottom.

“Right there,” I said.

I went to get out, but Lachlan put a hand to my arm.

“Wait,” he said.

John Smith had seen Miles, and he hauled ass toward the room. Miles didn't slam the door. He looked at him like he didn't know what was going on. He put his hands up, like he was innocent. Smith took out his gun and shot him in the chest. He crumpled to the ground.

Sirens grew closer.

The two guys upstairs ran down the steps, their footfalls as heavy as gun shots. Smith was already back in the car, ready to leave with or without them. They hauled ass out of the parking lot a second later.

Sirens reached us, but they kept moving.

“What the fuck?” Lachlan said, watching through the rear-view mirror as they sped past.

I stepped out before he could stop me and followed the sound of moaning coming from the lower level.

Miles had blood coming from his mouth, but he was still breathing, though barely. When his eyes met mine, I took out my gun and put one into his head. It was symbolic. Then I took the card out of my pocket. The one the guy had given me when Craig had ordered the hit on my car. I let it drop on his chest.

Lachlan was standing behind the open car door, watching me with a look I'd never seen before on his face. Like maybe he didn't know me.

I ignored it and slipped in, and we drove off. In the rear view, I noticed a man coming out of the office, narrowing his eyes toward the complex and scratching his head. The image seemed to burn into my memory, like I’d remember it for years to come.

Lachlan looked at my hands and then glanced at me. I looked down at my hands, too. They weren’t even shaking.

My wife was safe from the demons that haunted her—that was all that mattered.

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