Page 117 of Bad Men

We chose Davien’s room for the night. A concrete decision would have to be made eventually, but that was a problem for the morning. I still had the night and the hours ahead to deal with.

“Stay with her,” I told Davien as I took the stairs to my side of the apartment two at a time. “I need to go out.”

Davien followed me up to my bedroom and stood in the doorway while I moved to my chest. “What are you doing?”

It was a redundant question. He knew what my chest was and why it had multiple locks and a thumb scanner. He knew what it meant when I opened it. He probably didn’t mean what, but who?

“I’m going to take care of a problem,” I said instead, tossing back the chest lid and peering into the dark.

It had cost me a small fortune to have specially crafted, but the box with its velvet inlay and layers of drawers was a work of art. Each compartment unfolded to reveal a new layer and a different weapon, each one getting gradually bigger and deadlier. I didn’t go past the fourth slot.

The chosen piece had belonged to my father. I didn’t use it very often. Maybe a part of me had been saving it for a special occasion. I couldn’t think of a better time as I lifted the cool steal from its resting place and cradle its weight in my palm.

“You sure about this?”

I watched the icy spark glint along the sleek suppressor. “Cortez could have been dealt with months ago. Maybe it was sentiment, or pride, but he is responsible for what happened today.” I slipped the holster around my shoulders and across my chest. The B&T AG VP9 Veterinary pistol was nestled against my ribcage where settled comfortably. Spare rounds were tucked into various pockets for quick access. “I am going to get every person responsible. Every person who knew.” I pulled my coat on over top and yanked the zipper up to my chin before facing my best friend. “They won’t see dawn.”

There was nothing in his features. I knew he wouldn’t beg me to spare anyone. He wouldn’t stop me. But I knew he worried. Being the best at something didn’t make you immune to getting killed in the process.

“You sure you don’t need backup?”

I moved towards him. “Stay with Mia. It’s going to be a long night for her. She’s going to need you.”

I didn’t need to be a psychiatrist to know that no one simply walked away from torture without a few emotional and mental demons to keep them awake at night. Nightmares would be a close companion for a while.

“You don’t think she’s going to ask about you?”

I moved past him. “Tell her I went to get milk.”

I made it all the way to the bottom of the stairs before he called after me.

“We actually need milk. You better bring some back with you.”

We didn’t.

There was a full carton in the fridge.

But I nodded before shutting the door behind me.

I took my bike. In a pinch, it was easy to maneuver tight corners and faster than a car in a chase. The city slept while I leaned low over my handlebars, the rush of lights and twilight blurring past. I counted my breaths, a tactic my father used often when heading for a mission. It took the mind off the pounding of your heart and kept your mind focused on a single task. I’d done this too many times for my hands to sweat or my grip to shake. I was calm when I dismounted two blocks from Eduardo’s mansion. I could have driven right up the front path and rang the doorbell. No one would have stopped me. I was a leader. I could have been there for a million reasons, but I liked the element of surprise. I liked watching the shock and horror on their faces when they realized they were no longer safe.

I wasn’t a monster. Killing wasn’t fun for me. It had always been a job, one I seldom enjoyed. Occasionally, I got the task of hunting down a predator who preyed on kids, or a man who beat his wife. I enjoyed those jobs. But this was different. I wasn’t getting paid. There was no client. This was for Mia.

The structure sat dark and empty against the night. A row of running lights illuminated the yard, but nothing else. Each window sat painted in black and still, too still. There should have been guards. There should have been more lights.

Moving on the balls of my feet, I crept along the side of the building. My attention skimmed over each window, watching for movement or sound. I was beginning to suspect Eduardo was spending the night somewhere else, a possibility, but a rookie move for not checking beforehand; my father would have beaten me blue for such a mistake.

But I was already there. Turning back was no longer an option. Instead, I tightened the wrist straps on my motorcycle gloves and pushed forward.

Moving quietly, I hoisted myself up onto an AC unit, grabbed the edge of the flat roof making up the garage and heaved up. From there, it was a matter of keeping low and creeping to the nearest window.

The first two were locked.

The third didn’t even open.

I had to circle towards the back and climb until I reached a terrace overlooking an Olympic pool. My boots made barely any sound when I dropped onto the marble patio. I waited a heartbeat, ears straining for even the slightest indication that someone had heard me. The terrace doors yawned wide in invitation, the opening shielded only by heavy drapes that swayed in the late breeze. Definitely suspicious given the weather wasn’t an open terrace kind of night. Combined with the silence and the lack of movement, I was reaching for my gun before I started forward.

It was a possibility that Eduardo had gone to spend the night at one of his mistress’s. His guards would have no need to stay at the manor and someone forgot to close the terrace. Regardless, I nudged the drapes back and eased inside.

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