Behind the Mask

by J. D. Cunegan

  Before Jorge could grab the doorknob, the door burst off its hinges and slammed into him. Both Jorge and the door tumbled to the floor, shards of wood raining down on them as a man dressed from head to toe in black crossed the threshold.

  “Get down!” Ramon ordered as Mitch dropped to her hands and knees and crawled under the table. Ramon pressed his back against the wall separating the living room from the kitchen, peering over the edge to take in their attacker. Even with the mask, Ramon knew who it was. Who else made a habit of roaming around Baltimore in black leather and body armor?

  Okay, who else besides her?

  Ramon nearly cursed under his breath when he saw the katana slung over the man’s shoulder. His hand reached for his hip, but the holster was no longer there. Shit...

  Jorge groaned, rolling onto his back and grimacing as he brushed shaved wood off of himself. Fortunately, the door hadn’t landed on top of him. By the time he noticed the masked man standing above him, their attacker had drawn his sword and was pointing the tip at Jorge’s throat.

  “Detective Gutierrez,” a faint Russian accent said. “Where is he?”

  With a yell, Ramon rushed into the living room, wrapping his arms around the masked man’s waist and using the momentum to drive him out into the hallway. Even as he charged, Ramon knew how bad an idea this was. But what other choice did he have? This man had invaded his home, attacked and threatened the man he loved... time and prudence were not on his side.

  The masked man lost his grip on the sword, and it clanged against the floor. Once the man was prone, Ramon straddled him and yanked the mask off before wrapping both hands around Piotr’s neck.

  But no matter how hard Ramon squeezed, the knowing grin never left Piotr’s face—not even as he slammed his fist into Ramon’s side. The detective fell with a gasp before curling into the fetal position. Spots danced in front of Ramon’s eyes and his insides felt like they were on fire. Each time he inhaled, the pain grew sharper.

  Piotr staggered to his feet, grabbing the back of Ramon’s collar and dragging him back into the apartment. He tossed Ramon onto the floor, as if he weighed nothing, before dragging Jorge to his feet and tossing him into a nearby chair. Both men felt as if they weighed nothing.

  Piotr grabbed the katana and wandered behind the chair, grabbing a tuft of Jorge’s hair and pressing the blade against the front of his neck. One flick of the wrist was all it would take to send a spray of red all over the living room floor, and he wanted to make sure the detective understood that.

  Ramon grimaced and pushed himself up onto his elbows, but when he saw his fiancé with a sword against his neck, the detective ceased all movement and held his breath. Dread tickled the back of his throat, but Ramon willed it back down.

  Panic and anger would only make this worse.

  “Now that I have your attention,” Piotr cocked his head to the side, tightening his grip on Jorge’s hair, “you have something I want.”

  CHAPTER 44

  As soon as she hid under the dining room table, Mitch had pulled the phone out of her back pocket and shot a quick SOS text to the number Ramon had provided her when she first moved in with him and Jorge. Pocketing her phone again, Mitch bit her tongue as she watched the masked man toss both Ramon and Jorge around like they were stuffed animals. Every instinct told Mitch to come out of hiding, to do something to help them, but she knew how futile that would be. All her intervention would do was put another person in danger.

  Whoever the masked man was, he was someone she had no business taking on one-on-one. Delusions of grandeur and the overwhelming need to protect the two men would likely get her killed.

  So as much as it pained her, she stayed put.

  Even when the sword pressed against Jorge’s neck, Mitch held station. She had to ball her hands into tight fists, bite her lower lip, and hold her breath to keep herself rooted in place. Watching her grandfather slip into death after being shot was a memory that would stick with Mitch for the rest of her life, and that memory nearly had her leaping out of hiding and into action. But their attacker would make quicker work of her than he had of Ramon and Jorge.

  She felt a bead of sweat trickle down the side of her face. No way was this happening; no way was she once again watching her life crumble right in front of her.

  Things had been going well since she moved in with Ramon and Jorge. She still mourned her grandfather, unceremoniously murdered almost a month ago by a crooked cop, but having a place to call home, having a makeshift family supporting her as she picked up the pieces and began living her own life on her terms... that had helped. And now someone was threatening the very people who had made her resurgence possible.

  And there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

  She pulled the phone out of her pocket and frowned. There had been no response to her call for help. Not that she necessarily expected one, but right now, silence only fed into her fear.

  “Where is it?” the Russian man asked from the other room.

  Ramon sat as still as he could, a hand resting on his side. “I told you, I don’t know.”

  “Lie to me again.” Their attacker yanked on Jorge’s hair, causing him to cry out. “Go ahead.”

  “Tear this place apart if you want to. I’m telling you, it’s not here.” Ramon swallowed, and for the first time, Mitch caught a quiver in his voice. “Just don’t hurt him. He’s not a part of this.”

  “Why?” Mitch watched the other man’s fingers flex along the hilt of the katana, could hear the way the leather crinkled. “If I let this man go, what is your incentive to cooperate?”

  “Because you and Jill aren’t the only ones who hate David Gregor.”

  Mitch frowned. The billionaire? The guy with the red suits and the budding environmental business? What did he have to do with anything? She dug for her phone again. Still no reply. For a moment, Mitch considered dialing 9-1-1, but remembering the situation Ramon’s former partner was in, that might not have been such a good idea.

  “Damn,” she whispered before cupping a hand over her mouth.

  Ramon staggered to his feet, his hands in front of himself in a show of peace. “People have been trying to bring him down for years. He’s got decades of blood on his hands, so many of this town’s problems trace back to him. Believe me when I say I want to bring him down as much as you.”

  “No.” Piotr’s nostrils flared and he tightened his grip on the sword again. “I do not want to bring him down. I want to watch the life leave his eyes when he draws his last breath. I want him to stare at the blood pouring out of his body before the lights go out. I want to wipe my hands of him forever and live my own life on my terms.”

  “And you can do that.” Ramon shook his head. “But only if we help each other.”

  “I only want one thing from you: that flash drive.”

  “Which I already told you is not here.”

  “You have wasted enough of my time.” Tugging on Jorge’s hair again, Piotr dug the blade into his neck. But as the first drop of blood rose to the surface, a black blur slammed into Piotr’s side, sending him careening into what had been the wall separating the living room and the kitchen.

  Drywall crumbled around Piotr. Before he could get back on his feet, Jill grabbed him by the collar and tossed him up into the ceiling. He left a massive dent in the surface before falling to the floor again. Jill grunted and rolled him onto his back, straddling him and slamming her fists into his face. Over and over again, she punched Piotr until the bottom half of his face was caked in blood. He made no effort to escape or fight back, simply laughing as each blow left him bruised and bloodied.

  Jill backhanded him with a scream. “The fuck is so funny?!”

  Mitch crawled out from under the table, using the distraction of Jill’s entrance to grab the weapon. She stared at it, caught in her own reflection in the blade, before turning to glance at Ramon. He was pressing a cloth to the side of Jorge’s neck, but he was conscious and even had a soft smile
on his face. Mitch allowed herself a small grin; Jill couldn’t have timed that any better.

  “Jill!” Mitch called out, tossing the katana into the air. “Catch!”

  Jill grabbed the weapon with one hand, twirling it before wrapping both hands around the hilt. She studied the blade, cursing to herself at the drop of blood on the tip. Still on top of Piotr, she tightened her grip and slammed the butt of the weapon into his forehead.

  Piotr recoiled, grabbing the blade with both hands. Even as it dug into his palms, cutting his gloves, he pushed so hard that Jill came up off of him. He leapt to his feet and charged before Jill could react, slamming her back against the wall. The sword fell at her feet as a lamp in the corner fell, the bulb shattering.

  “I was hoping you would show up,” he growled before headbutting Jill—the sound of metal on metal reverberating throughout the room.

  “Careful what you wish for.” Jill spat blood in Piotr’s face before driving her knee between his legs. When Piotr dropped to his knees, she socked him in the chin with an uppercut—one that lifted him off the ground and sent him landing on top of the coffee table.

  She approached to grab Piotr again, but he recovered to grab her wrist and toss her into the air. Jill slammed into a bookshelf, falling face-first as the books toppled onto her. A hand yanked her back up by her hair before a black-clad fist smashed into her nose. Blood poured onto the ground and Jill doubled over. A fist to the gut knocked the wind out of her. Another made her knees give out.

  Yet another sent her face-first into the floor again.

  “I gave you a chance,” Piotr said, kicking Jill in the side. “Yet at every turn you have stepped in my way. That ends tonight.”

  Another boot to Jill’s side sent her into a coughing fit, her metal ribcage not enough to protect the soft tissue or the organs underneath. The pain blinded her, and Jill could barely get a hand up before Piotr kicked her again.

  Piotr grabbed the katana before his other hand reached through Jill’s hair and wrapped around the back of her neck. He lifted her back to her feet, smiling at the sight of the blood pouring down her face.

  “You have been a worthy adversary.” The smile on his face diminished. “But in the end, you are no different than the others.”

  Gritting her teeth, Jill mustered the strength to smash her fist against Piotr’s right temple. They both howled in pain, and Jill fell back to the floor. Thankful her knuckles were coated in titanium, Jill cursed under her breath as she crawled to pick up the discarded weapon again.

  Piotr got to his feet first, pulling a handgun and aiming it at Jill’s head. “You asked if I was bulletproof. I already know that you are not.”

  Jill flinched when Piotr pulled the trigger.

  CHAPTER 45

  For the second time in the span of a few weeks, a bullet ricocheted off Jill’s eyeplate. The force sent her on her ass, and it felt no better the second time around. In fact, it dazed her to the point that Piotr closed the distance again, jamming the weapon under her chin as his free hand tugged on a tuft of her hair.

  Jill gritted her teeth to keep from crying out in pain.

  “I will find a way to kill you,” he muttered. “And then I will handle the others... leaving your cop friend for last. After all, he is the reason I came here.”

  Jill stole a glance to her right. Ramon was still holding Jorge as Mitch dug through a first aid kit for bandages. She couldn’t help but sigh in relief; Jill would have never lived with herself if she had been just a split second later and Ramon had to live the rest of his life being widowed days before his wedding.

  Her attention came back to Piotr, a surge of adrenaline curling her hands into fists. She hit him in the temple again with every ounce of strength she could muster, dropping to her knees when Piotr let go of her and fell back to the wall. Catching her breath, and feeling the blood on her face drying, Jill got back to her feet and approached the staggering vigilante.

  Once Piotr was upright again, Jill kicked him square in the throat. He gagged and gasped, wrapping his hands around Jill’s ankle. She pressed down even harder in response, pinning Piotr against the wall. Stealing another glance over her shoulder, Jill locked eyes with Mitch and Ramon. They both nodded that Jorge was okay.

  “You said if you saw me again, you would kill me.” A sly grin crept onto Piotr’s face. “So go ahead.”

  He was right. Jill had actually said that. Not that she had expected to have to go through with it, because in her naiveté, she had believed Piotr would ultimately be the least of her concerns. But he had proven the lengths to which he was willing to go to free himself from David Gregor’s clutches. And if he was willing to be this ruthless, then what choice did Jill have?

  Even if this meant going against everything she stood for.

  But the practical matter was... how? His bones were as indestructible as hers. If he had any intelligence at all, he was wearing armor over his most vulnerable organs. Piotr was Jill’s physical equal in every way. So while they were both bloodied and out of breath, they were ultimately none the worse for wear.

  “Do it.” Piotr demanded, punching Jill in the face before grabbing her neck with both hands. “Do it! Kill me!”

  Jill expected to be gasping for air, but his thumbs weren’t pressing against her windpipe. She felt more blood oozing from her nose down over her mouth, yet she couldn’t get herself to move. Her hesitance was born of her reluctance to kill in general, but also the realization that Piotr was almost impossible to kill. Her armor, though aged, was sturdier than one might expect, and she was sure he was wearing something better. Possibly military-grade.

  So what could she actually do?

  “And what?” Jill shook her head. “Become like you? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “You promised!”

  “All you’ve known is death. War.” Jill pushed Piotr back against the wall, slamming her elbow into his nose. If nothing else, it shut him up for a few moments. “You were a monster before Dr. Roberts got to you, and you spent so long alone in your depravity that you were desperate to corrupt someone else.”

  Maybe that was what had drawn Piotr to Gregor in the first place. Their methods were different, but there was no mistaking: David Gregor was as dark as they came. The fact that he seldom, if ever, got his own hands dirty was irrelevant. Those people her father had killed were just as much on Gregor’s hands as they were on Paul’s. In fact, in some twisted way, Jill respected Piotr more than Gregor, because at least Piotr was willing to do things for himself. He wasn’t the sort to send lapdogs to do it for him.

  Piotr sucked in as much oxygen as his lungs could fill, glaring at Jill through hooded eyes. “Perhaps... perhaps Lori was right. No one escapes him alive...”

  Before Jill could react, Piotr lifted a hand to his mouth and bit down. He locked eyes with Jill, a knowing smile on his face before the seizures took over. Piotr crumpled to the floor, his entire body spasming. Limbs flailed, white foam oozing out of his mouth and down the side of his face.

  “No!” Jill dropped to her knees, grabbing Piotr by the collar. She shook him with both hands, watching as the life slowly faded from Piotr’s baby blue eyes. After a few minutes, the convulsions stopped and Piotr lay still.

  Jill waved a finger just beneath his nostrils, but she felt no breath. She didn’t bother checking for a pulse.

  “Dammit...”

  CHAPTER 46

  “Is he dead?”

  Jill looked over her shoulder to see Ramon standing over her. His shoulders hunched and his hands were balled into fists, and the anger in his eyes was unlike anything she had seen before. She sighed and got back to her feet with a shake of her head; she understood. Really, she did. Piotr had invaded Ramon’s home, attacked the man he loved... and for what? Jill still had no idea what Piotr was doing here. Unless all this was all along was a suicide mission... but if that was the endgame, why go through everything? Why not just kill himself and be done with it?

  �
��Yeah.” She chewed on her lip. “How’s Jorge?”

  “Just a small cut, pretty shallow.” Ramon sighed and ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Mitch is gonna take him to the ER just to be safe, but your timing was impeccable.”

  “I should’ve come sooner.” Jill shook her head and turned her back on Piotr. Truth was, he didn’t deserve any more of her time or stress. “If I had come sooner...”

  “Jill.” Ramon grabbed his former partner’s shoulders, the move catching her so off-guard that she frowned and cocked her head to the side. “You made it. Jorge’s alive. That guy—whatever his deal was—isn’t. That’s all that matters.”

  “What did he want with you?”

  “He the one who killed that reporter?”

  Jill nodded.

  “I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but the night I interrogated you, an FBI agent paid me a visit.”

  Jill fought the urge to roll her eye. She had wondered when McDermott would surface again. Especially after the conversation they had that night. McDermott was predictably evasive and short on details, but what he had said stuck with Jill, even as everything else unraveled.

  I can make it all go away. I can help you rebuild your life.

  It was tempting. Jill would be a fool not to think so. But everything had gotten so out of whack in recent days, it was the last thing she could think of. She wanted to think Piotr’s demise would clear things up, but somehow she knew better. Her life hadn’t made any kind of sense since before her father was arrested and charged with murder.

  She wouldn’t allow herself to believe that would change now.

  “He gave me a flash drive,” Ramon continued. “Said it contained everything you could ever wanna know about our not-so-friendly neighborhood Russian. I didn’t think much of it for a while, cause we were knee-deep in these investigations, but I read up on it all last night, and... Jill, let’s just say this isn’t someone I’m gonna miss.”