Page 5 of No Saint

I dispose of the bodies, leaving them behind the building and dialing through for clean up to deal with it. While I didn’t give a fuck if someone found them, I knew leaving bodies lying around could draw unwanted attention. All it took was someone outside of my payroll to report to the wrong authorities and I’d have a whole damn case on my hands, and getting my hands dirty with the feds wasn’t something I wanted to deal with.

I’d been following her all afternoon, watching her routine, seeing her at the bar, working and then with her son in the daycare parking lot. I’d followed her back to her apartment and sat in my car, watching up at the second story window.

She peered out only moments after returning home, searching the lot. I’d planned on leaving but something in me rooted me to the spot and it had only been a couple of hours later when the hitmen arrived to take her and the boy out.

The investigator had sold the information on the woman and her son, and my enemies were here to ensure I didn’t get hold of the next generation that would keep them beneath my thumb.

They didn’t see me coming. My crew confirm people are on the way to deal with the mess as I head through the doors of the building, taking the stairs silently. I would usually send Atlas or Asher to handle it, kill the girl, take the kid, it was easy, but I wasn’t going to leave her now and I didn’t have the patience to wait for either one of the twin brothers.

I’m silent as I take the stairs to her floor, my gun clutched in my hand and I pause, listening for sounds on the other side.

I hear the TV but nothing else, so I level my gun with the handle, shooting out the lock before I try on the door. It doesn’t budge.

The loud cry of a baby sounds a second later.

Scanning the door as I push, I note the door snagging with a lock in the top corner. I level my gun and shoot it out.

The door swings freely open and I get a look inside. It was the small living room I come into first, the TV continuing to play in the dark room that only housed a couch and a playpen filled with children toys, the old TV, cracked down one side sits on top of a metal crate that looks to have been found behind a dumpster.

It was clean at least but I still curl my lip. The wallpaper peels from the walls and the carpet was worn in more places than not. I can see the entire kitchen from where I stand and find it empty, bowls used hours before piled next to the sink.

Slowly, I creep down the only hall, pushing on the first door to see it open to a small empty bathroom leaving only one more room to go into, directly ahead of me. The baby cries, giving away their position though it’s calmer now, likely in his mother’s arms as she rocks him, trying to convince the child all would be fine.

It would not be, at least not for her.

I raise my weapon, reaching for the handle. I couldn’t blindly fire with the risk of harming the baby. My hand moves slow as I turn the knob and push open the final door with a creak.

Darkness greets me right before something – no –someonelunges at me with a bat. I duck just in time to avoid a swing to the head, the heavy wooden bat slamming into the wall hard enough to leave a hole.

“Get the fuck out of my apartment,” she screams, “get out!”

She swings with the force of her entire body, which isn’t a lot when she’s at least half my size. I dodge the blow again and when she raises it to swing once more, I reach out and grab it.

“Who are you!?” She cries, trying to tug the thing back.

I could fire now, shoot her in the stomach and yet I don’t. I glare down into her pretty face, seeing those wide blue eyes and mess of dark hair. There was fear etched into every line of her face, of her body but it was nothing in comparison to the fierce protectiveness and anger that keeps her fighting me.

A smarter woman would have gotten on her knees and begged for mercy.

I snatch the bat from her and step into her, forcing her to retreat though she doesn’t go far. She allows one step into the room but then she screams and pushes on me, forcing me back one. It was a dance of strength, of mercy, of her protecting her son and me trying to get him.

“Do you truly believe you can win against me?” I ask quietly, her fists pounding into my chest. She pauses, staring up into my face before she suddenly strikes and punches me in the jaw.

My dark chuckle stills her, and her breath gets lodged in her throat. I wipe the small trickle of blood from the corner of my mouth, looking at the bead of crimson on the end of my finger with curiosity.

She made me bleed.

Snapping out of her paralysis, she throws her fist again but misses, and then she turns and runs, slamming the bedroom door in my face before I can follow.

With a sigh, I push it back open, stepping inside and flicking the light on.

I find her in the corner of the room, her body curled around the child, using her own to protect him. The view made me pause.

I’d seen a lot in my life. I’d seen mothers and fathers sacrifice their children to save themselves, seen them sell them for money, betray them for power. In this life, apart from my own family, I don’t see true loyalty. I don’t see ferocity to protect the lives of those they love. Not like this. She would die for her son, not because I’d already ordered her death, but because it was the only one that would allow me to get him. I would not be able to walk out of here with that child if she still breathed.

“Please,” her voice cracks, “He’s my son. Don’t hurt him.”

“I’m not here to hurt him,leonessa.” Lioness. It was the only word I could use to describe the fiery woman. “Hand him over.”

---