I can jump to the roof from here. He glanced at the figures. They think they’re being smart, but the lights only reach so far. They can’t see what’s in the darkness beyond.
Shawn launched himself into the air and landed with a thud on the rooftop. He didn’t bother checking to see if he’d been heard. Instead, he stepped forward along the surface in a crouch to the front of the building, boots barely making a noise.
Shit. There’s more than I anticipated. He counted three armed men guarding the operation. Three more stood behind them in a loose line, peering into the white van. Taking stock of the weapons, no doubt.
Shawn easily dropped behind another smaller stack of lumber merely four yards from the riverfront.
“Did you hear that?” a voice said.
“Hear what?”
Silence followed. Shawn held his breath, back to the logs, knowing if they rounded his hiding spot he’d easily outrun them, but it would still foil his entire plan.
“Quit being paranoid,” the second voice sounded. Shawn relaxed and moved away from the stack of lumber. Careful to stay out of view, he hunted for anything heavy and dangerous.
His eyes fell on a small pile of bricks and concrete blocks stacked against the building. He grinned.
Stooping, Shawn picked up four bricks, which he cradled in the crook of his arm, and a cinder block, then moved back to the lumber pile. Peeking around it from the right side, he took a breath, cocked his arm back, and let loose a large red brick. It sliced through the air with barely an arc, his inhuman strength propelling it forward almost faster than his mask's cameras could track. He heard a satisfying snuck as the brick hit the target, and he turned and sprinted around the building.
Cries of outrage sounded as Shawn pulled up behind the first larger pile of wood, his breathing barely increased. He leaped onto the lumber and scurried up it, one arm still full of projectiles, and jumped onto the roof. Running to the edge, he didn't hesitate to grab another brick and take aim. He took out a second guard, whose body dropped heavily to the ground near the first victim. Shawn hefted the concrete block in one hand and tossed it underhand. It landed on the hood of the furthest SUV, knocking out the headlights in a loud crunching noise.
The final guard was approaching the building by way of the smaller lumber pile. Shawn took aim at the white van, as the three men behind it were out of sight. The brick he threw punched a hole in the vehicle's windshield, but Shawn was already on the move and only heard the glass shattering. He clutched the final brick in his left hand as he hopped to the ground behind the smaller lumber pile, just in time to reach out and grab the muzzle of an AK-47 and wrench it forward. The guard was pulled off kilter, stumbling forward with a cry. Idiot, Shawn thought as he gripped the man by the throat. What did you expect? Shawn's stomach flipped a second later, however, as the three from the white van fired on the lumber pile he hid behind. He shoved the man into the line of fire, his body twitching violently as bullets from his comrades ended his life. Shawn fell into a crouch, one hand over his head, the other now gripping the guard's automatic weapon.
The firing continued, loud and harsh in what had been a quiet night. The wood trembled, and splinters flaked down around him. For a moment he felt panic in his chest, and contemplated making a run for the edge of the building again, but then the sounds stopped.
Shawn looked down at the AK-47 he held. I have no idea how to use this, he thought wildly, but knew he had no choice. With a grimace behind his mask, he stepped out from behind the lumber and opened fire.
All three men from the white van had surged forward, stopping next to the bodies of the guards who had met their demise from a brick to the skull. When Shawn pulled the trigger of the gun, a burst of power shot through his arms, flinging them upward. One man fell, but Shawn was forced to take a small step back and release the trigger to stop the spray of bullets that now flew into the sky. Within a second, he dropped the nose of the AK-47 level while planting his feet, and shot again at the men who scrambled to find cover.
Another fell in a bloody heap, but the third managed to hide behind an SUV. Shawn, weapon aimed forward, began to stalk along the ground. He heard a scuffling noise and his trigger finger tensed. As he rounded the truck, he squeezed off another burst of bullets, but they only embedded themselves into the soft ground.
Where the fuck...? Shawn glanced up as the tires of the white van spun rapidly, sending up a spray of grass and dirt. No no no no no. He fired at the retreating vehicle, but it continued forward. He growled and turned toward the SUV that didn't currently have a heavy concrete block inserted into its hood. Jumping into the driver's seat, Shawn floored the gas, but the vehicle only roared, didn't move. Frantic, he cursed at himself; he'd never learned how to drive.
A quick glance around showed him the gearshift and he pulled at it. Nothing happened. Shawn let out a loud, frustrated yell and began pushing buttons and stepping on the pedals. The gearshift moved underneath his hand then, and he floored the SUV after the retreating white van.
Shawn was flung backward into the leather seat as the vehicle shot forward. He struggled to maintain the jumping steering wheel as his speed increased. The white van swerved ahead of him. Maybe I did hit him after all, he thought. Reaching down, he pulled at the truck's seat belt and snapped it into place, swerving himself but keeping out of the ditch. He gained on the white van just as it tried to turn right onto a connecting street. Shawn slammed the hood of the SUV into the back half of the van, and it spun, tires squealing over the noise of the collision.
Thankful of his last minute decision to use the seat belt, Shawn gritted his teeth as the face of his mask collided with an air bag. Not even dazed, he shoved open the door and jumped out onto the street. No one was in sight as he stalked over to the white van, now still and quiet. He might shoot you. Go back for the gun. Shawn ignored his thoughts, adrenaline at full surge. He wrenched open the side door of the van and flinched, half expecting a spray of bullets, but none came.
The driver was slumped over the center console. A bloody bullet hole in the side of his hip was seeping. Shawn watched the man reach toward a gun on the floor for a moment, grabbed a handful of the man's shirt, and pulled him out of the vehicle. Without hesitation, he lifted his booted foot and brought it down on the skull beneath him, enjoying the crunch. Six more pieces of filth wiped out.
Shawn sucked in air and stepped up to the undamaged side of the van. He raised his forearm and used the steel blades of his suit to carve two X's next to each other, then swiped his arm downward underneath them, scratching a few vertical lines into the metal. With one last glance around, Shawn sprinted away from the scene, a wide grin spread across his face.
Chapter Six
“I can’t believe you’re telling me this.” Isaac slammed a card onto Emma’s large wooden dining table. He took a sip of his gin and tonic, running his tongue across his front teeth in irritation. Parts of a new deck building card game sprawled across her table, half ignored as his mind conjured unwanted images of Alex fondling Emma.
“Isaac, what the fuck?” Her eyes were incredulous. “I always tell you about my targets. We tell each other everything.”
“That’s work. I don’t want to fucking hear who you’re sleeping with.” He looked away, painfully aware of how immature he sounded.
“So is this. He wouldn’t give me better jobs before this. I flirt with him a little, and bam, I’m in charge of my first infiltration.” She snapped her own card on top of his. “You know damn well I’m sick of having whorish jobs. I want better ones, work that I can be proud of.”
“Emma, this is a crime ring. What work could you possibly do that would garner pride?”
“You know what I mean, dammit.”
“You do see the irony in what you’re doing, right? Fucking Alex to—”
“I get it, I get it, yes. But if I dropped the play now, he might take me off of the infiltration, and I’d never get my chance to impress Vance.”
“Wh
y does it have to be Alex? Of all people available to you? Something is off about him, Emma. Something isn’t right.”
She put another card into play. “Take seven damage,” she said and drew two more. She sat in her grey sweatpants with her legs propped up on another chair underneath the table. “Nothing is ‘off’ about him. You just don’t like him, and you still won’t tell me why.”
“Look,” Isaac cleared his throat, his eyes on hers. “You barely know him. He’s our boss. When is that ever a good idea?”
She stared at her hand of cards, hurt obvious on her face.
“And he’s old,” Isaac continued. He leaned forward in earnest, trying desperately to say anything that would change her mind about Alex.
“He’s only thirty-five,” Emma protested.
“And we’re twenty-nine.”
“So?”
“And he didn’t use protection.” Isaac’s upper lip curled in disgust. “Did he even ask you if you were on birth control? Or tell you if he was clean?”
“I can’t get pregnant, remember? After that whole...issue when I was younger,” Emma said, not meeting his gaze.
Isaac looked away. Way to bring that up for her, you dumbass. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, but Emma, he doesn’t know that. And he didn’t even ask first. That’s a selfish, piece of shit move.” Isaac dropped his cards face down on the table and leaned forward. “I know you’ve been under Vance’s eye since you were a child. I get the connection, the drive to follow his orders. I understand the anxiety if you even think about leaving, because I feel it, too. I may not have been controlled by him my whole life, but the few years I’ve been involved have been enough to show me that we either grow a pair and disappear, or eventually piss Vance off and get ourselves killed.”
“He’d kill us either way. If we ran, he’d find us.”
“That’s impossible. And even if he did try to find us, at least we’d have a chance. We’d have hope, Emma. We’d be taking our future into our own hands instead of being forced to do things we don’t want to.” Her eyes were faraway.
Please be thinking about Henry. How you told me his face looked after Alex’s torture. How you said you felt cold dread in your stomach at the sound of his bones snapping. Isaac covered her hand with his, but her gaze didn’t focus.
“Emma.”
All at once, she snapped back to the present. “Can we finish this game please?” She gestured at his cards and grinned, although he noticed it didn’t reach her eyes.
Isaac looked back down at his cards, then picked them up and studied them. I thought pining for her hurt enough. Now she’s romantically involved with a man I loathe. You fucking idiot, why didn’t you just tell her when you had the chance instead of staying in the friend-zone? Staring at his cards, vision blurred, Isaac recalled other times in which Emma had been with other men, relationships that always ended quickly or, sometimes, badly. He made sure he was always available as a shoulder to cry on whenever she needed it, but fear would hold him back each time. Soon, enough time had passed that if he’d told her of his feelings, it would be too awkward, and might end their friendship, so he endured. His heart ached each time hers was broken, and now she had gotten herself convinced Alex was someone she should be sleeping with.
“Hey.” Emma was looking at him with concern in her eyes. “Look, I know. I want to. Believe me, I want nothing more than to disappear with you, but hear me out.”
Isaac stared at her. She does?
“Right now, I’m nobody,” she continued, “but if I finish this infiltration successfully, impress Vance, there’s a huge chance I’ll rise up in the ranks. If that happens, yes, I’ll get better work, but both he and Alex will trust me more. With that trust, I can be deemed as loyal. They might send me on longer jobs, further out in the city, out from underneath their gaze. I’d also get paid more. Once things have settled, we can make a break for it then.”
Isaac shook his head. “The more they trust you, the more they’ll look for you if you do disappear.”
“But I thought you said you had some places in mind that even they couldn’t find.” Emma smiled her soft, simple smile that always sent his heart bounding. “Plus, the deeper in I get, the more cash I’ll have if we do run.” She kicked him playfully underneath the table. “See? I’m smart sometimes.”
“Of course you are.” He looked up and placed a card in front of him. “But this isn’t one of them. Take eleven damage. Which, I believe, kills you. Kills you dead.”
“Dick.” She laughed, then threw her cards on the table and finished her wine in a fast gulp. “I’m hungry,” she said. “Do you want Chinese or pizza?”
“You know my answer to that.” Isaac chuckled as he let her pull him from the dining room, through the kitchen, and onto her plush red couch. A pleasant heat emitted from the fireplace, the soft orange and yellow flames creating a calm flicker throughout the living room.
“Pizza it is.” She pulled out her cell and began an online order from Rosita’s.
An open sketchbook sat on her coffee table. As he neared it, however, he felt his lips turn down into a sneer. “You’re drawing him?” Jealousy burned deep in his stomach.
“What? Oh. Yeah, it’s just...I dunno, I just draw what I feel like at the time. You know that.”
“He has no eyes.”
“Alex’s eyes are hard to capture. They’re—”
“Cold. Murderous. Evil? Yeah, that’s the one.” Isaac dropped down on a cushion and stared at the sketch. “You know what will finish this off nicely? Give him some huge, sharp fangs.”
“Oh, stop. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were—”
“So how’s the new job going?” He glanced over his shoulder at her.
Emma was looking at him with an odd expression, curiosity mixed with something he couldn’t place. “I’m nearly done with the DA. We meet with him tomorrow. As long as it goes smoothly, I’ll only have the Grim infiltration.”
“When are you starting that?”
“Soon. I’ve had Grant and Marcus scoping out where Cassie and her friends like to spend their free time, what they like to do.”
Isaac chuckled. “Making them do your homework for you, huh?”
“Hey.” Emma refilled her glass of wine in the kitchen. “Perks of being the boss for once. If I’m successful with all of this, Alex might even—”
“Emma, enough.” Isaac snapped, and walked into the kitchen and rinsed his glass out in her sink. The cool water ran over his hands and brought his consciousness forward a bit. “Let’s discuss this when we haven’t been drinking, okay? No more Alex talk, it’s ruining my night.”
“Right.” She paused, not making eye contact. “Another game?”
“Sure. Let’s try that new one you got last week.”
Emma moved to the living room again. “This is funny.”
“What’s that?”
“We’re supposed to be these hard-ass criminals, and here we are, sitting around playing board games.”
“Yeah, not really like it is in the movies, is it?” Isaac grinned.
Forty minutes later found the pair of them genuinely buzzed, sitting shoulder to shoulder, huddled over Emma’s table, neither of them speaking as they attempted to create a battle plan in the new game.
“This is too hard drunk,” Emma announced, and tossed her cards away.
“We can watch a movie instead.” Isaac dropped his own hand and picked up his nearly full drink. She looked over at him, face inches away, and his breath stilled. If he leaned over mere centimeters he could kiss her soft lips. Isaac stared at her for a moment, contemplating his next move, wondering if he had the courage, when her door’s buzzer emitted a harsh sound.
“Pizza!” Emma leapt out of her chair.
You have got to be joking. He closed his eyes with a dejected sigh.
They devoured their dinner, sipping their drinks while a horror movie played on her television, Emma squealing often. The night, of course, flew by t
oo fast. Before long, Isaac was at her front door. His dark green jacket in hand, he hugged her goodbye.
“You sure you’ll be okay here alone after watching that? I mean, a zombie could be right outside of your bedroom window. Or in your closet!” He grabbed Emma’s waist on one side and squeezed, laughing as she giggled and squirmed away.
“I’ll be fine.” Her cheeks were pink from the wine. “I’ll just keep all of the lights on. Everywhere.”
“Okay, but don’t be calling me when something crawls out from under your bed and tries to eat you.” Isaac grinned, hugged her one more time.
He stood in her hallway for a moment after she shut the door. It happened to him every single time he left her place: he would stand motionless for a few minutes in an attempt to talk himself into knocking on her door, telling her he wanted to stay longer, maybe even for the night. Like always, he turned and trudged away. His frustration boiled as he descended to the ground level in the elevator.
Isaac scuffed his feet along the dirty concrete of Emma’s parking garage. He unlocked his vehicle and clambered into the driver’s seat. He sat motionless, staring out his windshield at an indiscernible spot on the wall in front of him, the door closed and the engine on. She wants to leave. She wants to leave with me. Even though his heart soared at the thought, he was still unable to stop thinking about her with Alex.
“Fuck!” he screamed, and slammed both of his fists on the front of his steering wheel. He screamed again as he beat the interior of his car mercilessly, then sighed and slumped back into his seat. His eyes trailed over the bristly texture of his car’s ceiling as his rapid heartbeat began to slow. He straightened and shook himself as if it would rid him of all of his emotions, pulled out of the stall, and exited Emma’s parking garage to head for home.
—-
Emma shut her front door behind Isaac and leaned her forehead against the cool wooden frame, her eyes closed, as she did so often when he left. Do it this time, Emma, she thought to herself in an attempt to scrounge up enough courage to fling open her door and tell him to stay, but, as always, she simply sighed and walked away. You have enough with Alex right now, and should be happy for the distraction. Isaac wants to stay friends; he said it years ago, that he was too ‘weirded out’ to get together. She moved toward her bedroom as she gave herself a pep talk.
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