I slam the palm of my hand down hard on the wheel.
“Goddammit!”
I can’t believe I’ve been so blinded by everything that I didn’t see any of this coming. I knew something was off, from the moment I woke up in that bed. But I carried on anyway. And where has it got me? I only have one friend in this new life, and now I have to kill her or risk having my head blown off my shoulders.
I grip the wheel tightly with both hands until the color drains from my knuckles. I can feel myself getting angry and frustrated. I’ve not been myself since waking up in that weird room. I rolled with it for a while, but when the honeymoon was over, even I managed to recognize there was something fundamentally wrong with me. Hence the therapy. Which, don’t get me wrong, has been helping—much more than I thought it would. But there’s still something not quite right. It’s as if a part of me is missing. It’s not the killer instinct, it’s more…
I let out a long sigh as I realize what I’m getting at.
It’s the desire. The passion. My heart’s just not in it anymore. It feels as if I was doing this for so long simply because I had to. But when I moved to Devil’s Spring, it was over for me. I didn’t have to do anything. And that made me happy. But this life caught up with me and ruined everything. I was forced back into this world and I resent it for making me pick up my guns again. And now, after everything I’ve been through, I’m stuck in this vicious cycle, unable to ever walk away from this life again.
All this therapy has changed the way I look at things. It’s made me question things I would otherwise have taken for granted. Maybe that’s why I’ve been questioning everything. Why I’ve been so reluctant to put my faith in The Order… I’ve been looking for a reason to back out, to stop myself from committing to my new life… Because I don’t want it. I either want my old life, to be me, or nothing at all.
I should have just…
I reach behind me and take out the Beretta tucked into the back of my waistband. I hold it low, resting it on my lap. I look down at it, admiring its beauty, finding comfort in the feel and the weight.
I look around casually. The neighborhood is quiet. The temperature’s at its hottest right now. The light blue sky is free from the blemish of any cloud, and the sun is bright and intense. I could be the only person in the world.
I lift the gun up, bringing it closer to my face. Everyone I’ve ever cared about is either dead, or thinks I’m dead. I’m essentially a prisoner in my own life, condemned to an existence of violent slavery, working for an organization that exists only in myth. I have no freedom. I can never rest. My life, such as it is, belongs to someone else, and I’m not sure I can live with that.
I flick the safety off, work the slide, and place the barrel against the fleshy underside of my chin, in the middle of my jaw. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
Fuck it. There’s no one to miss me. I’ll finally be free. Free from the guilt. Free from the sadness. Free from…
I open my eyes and breathe out slowly.
Fuck!
Who am I kidding? We all know I’m too proud to take the coward’s way out. It’s too easy, and I don’t deserve that. If I’m going to find peace, I should be made to suffer first. To fight for it.
I put the safety back on, place the gun down on the seat beside me, and start the engine. I check my watch.
Shit. I’m already running late…
17
15:39 AST
I sit down heavily in my usual seat and glance out the window. The glare from the sun is still reflecting brightly off the windows in the nearby buildings. I let out a long, tired sigh and look over at Kaitlyn Moss. She looks slightly disheveled, which I suspect is due to a full day in a warm office. She takes off her glasses and cleans the lenses with a piece of cloth.
“Sorry I’m late, Doc.”
Kaitlyn puts her glasses back on and nods. “It’s no trouble, Brad, though I do usually prefer a bit of notice if you can’t make the original appointment time. Luckily, I had a cancellation this afternoon, otherwise we’d have had to re-schedule.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve just… it’s not been a great day, and you’re pretty much the only person I trust enough to talk to about things right now.”
She shifts in her seat, re-crosses her legs, and clasps her hands on her lap. “So, tell me what’s happened?”
I feel a little overwhelmed when I think about how to answer that question. I have to tread carefully here. I can’t say anything that would give her the impression I’ve broken the law in any way, but it’s difficult to think of a metaphor to apply to what’s actually happened that both tells the story accurately enough that her feedback can be useful, but remains vague enough that I don’t get in trouble.
I take a deep breath. “Well, I… acted without thinking earlier today. I put myself in danger to help someone close to me, and I’ve ended up putting them at risk through my actions.”
“This person who you’re close to… is it Lily?”
I nod. “That obvious, huh?”
She shakes her head and smiles. “Not obvious, but an educated guess.”
“Yeah, she came to me for help, and I offered it, but I didn’t consider the consequences of my actions, and now I think she might be in danger.”
Kaitlyn nods along thoughtfully. “Could you perhaps be seeing danger where there isn’t any? Yet again, you’ve assumed this natural role of protector… Are you possibly looking for danger as a means to justify your actions?”
I can’t help but feel as if I’m wasting her time. While I’ve no doubt what she’s saying is phenomenally accurate, based on the information I’m giving her, the fact I’m not giving her a true account of what’s happening in my life means her advice is irrelevant and, ultimately, worthless.
I shake my head. “I… don’t think so, no. I happen to know she’s in very real danger right now, and that’s a direct result of what I did. I wanted to do the right thing. I wanted to help her. But I didn’t think far enough ahead to take into account the consequences, and now she’s…”
Kaitlyn puts her hand up. “It sounds as if you’re assuming the blame for something you had no direct control over. No one can plan for something that may occur unexpectedly. All you can do is what you feel is right at the time. It’s as if you’ve expanded the guilt cycle we spoke about and you’re allowing it to encompass every aspect of your life. That’s no way to live, Brad.”
I nod. “I know. I… ah… I considered killing myself before I came here today.”
She’s visibly shocked, but only for a moment. She recovers quickly and frowns. “How long have you had those thoughts?”
I think about it. I remember back in the day, before everything went to shit. When it was just Josh and me, blasting out classic rock songs as we ran from the loss of my family. In the early days after losing them, I thought about eating a bullet every second of every day. Quite seriously. It was Josh who kept me going, until I began choosing to keep going myself. That feels like a lifetime ago.
I shrug. “Not long. I was just sitting in my car before, lost in my thoughts, and my mind just kinda… drifted toward the idea. It made sense at first. I even put a gun right here…” I point to the flesh underneath my chin. “…but when I actually—I dunno—entered that moment, I just felt detached. It was almost as if I knew exactly what was happening, and simply talked myself out of it. I see that as the coward’s way out, and that’s not who I am. I think maybe I needed to test myself—to put myself in that position to see how it would make me feel.”
“And how did you feel?”
“Honestly? Like I should live, if only to suffer through life for the choices I’ve made that have hurt other people. The memories of the people I couldn’t save deserve more. They should be able to rest knowing I’m being torn up inside, over and over again, for the pain they felt because of me.”
“Okay… ignoring for a moment the fact you’ve just admitted being in possession of a firearm, the
fact you put yourself in that position and chose to live is a good thing, whatever your reasoning. That’s a big step forward. I don’t believe you’re a risk to yourself or others. I think you needed to test yourself, like you say, to see how far you could allow yourself to go, and I think you satisfied that curiosity. I think the next step for you is learning how to live.”
She’s looking at me expectantly, but I’m not sure what I should say. I mean, she’s right. Obviously she’s right. But what can I say? I can’t exactly tell her the situation I’m in…
Or can I?
No, I can’t. Don’t be stupid, Adrian.
That’s not the kind of shit you can just—
A red dot has just appeared on Kaitlyn’s chest. I feel my eyes grow wide as I process the million different thoughts currently bombarding my mind. I know exactly what it is. Someone’s aiming a sniper rifle at her. What I don’t know is why.
The large window on my left looks out at the neighboring office buildings. Whoever’s holding the rifle has to be in one of them. The dot is steady, which means either the rifle is mounted, or the shooter has a very strong arm. I glance sideways out the window. There are three buildings with line of sight, but only two of them are as tall as, or taller than, the one we’re in.
Fuck!
I don’t know who it is, why they’re doing it, or even how they know where I am, but right now, all the questions can wait. I need to keep Kaitlyn safe. I need to—
“Brad, is everything okay? You look a little… alarmed.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah… listen, this might sound a little weird, but do you mind if we sit somewhere else?” I point to the large space next to me, away from the window. “If I move my chair there, will you sit where I am now?”
Kaitlyn frowns. “May I ask why?”
The dot hasn’t moved a fraction since it appeared.
Shit, shit, shit!
I need to remain calm, but I need to hurry up.
I shrug. “I’d just feel more comfortable facing the window, that’s all.”
She seems to think about it, but after a moment, she stands. “Of course, if that’s what you would prefer.”
I get to my feet and dash over to pick up her chair, making sure I’m standing between her and the window. “Allow me.”
I’m not worried about getting shot. If whoever it is with the rifle wanted me dead, they would aim at me. The fact they’re aiming at Kaitlyn tells me they know who I am, and they want to send me a message by attacking someone I’m close to, so to speak.
She smiles politely. “Thank you.”
I reposition the furniture and sit facing the window. I scan the buildings opposite for any sign of movement, but can’t see anything. The dot has disappeared.
Doesn’t mean the threat has, though.
Who could possibly know I’m here?
Kaitlyn clears her throat. “Brad, are you sure you’re alright? You seem very distracted all of a sudden…”
“Sorry, I just—”
I snap my head left and stare at the door.
What was that?
I frown. There was a loud noise somewhere below us. It sounded as if it came from outside, on the street. I look across at her. She clearly heard it too, but the look on her face is one of confusion more than concern, thankfully. It wasn’t on our floor—it was too distant—but we’re three floors up, so whatever it was had to be big for us to hear it at all.
An explosion?
Perhaps, but I think we would’ve felt some kind of physical repercussion from the blast. Whatever that was, it wasn’t powerful enough to shake the building itself. So it wasn’t a bomb…
A breaching charge?
Hmmm… that’s a little more likely. Which would be very bad. Most normal people wouldn’t use something so specialized to attack a building, which means whoever’s coming in is trained, and has access to that kind of equipment.
Kaitlyn stands. “Do you mind waiting here a moment? I’m just going to see what that—”
I get to my feet and grab her wrist as firmly and as gently as I can. “Ah… actually, I think you’re maybe better off staying here. Let me check it out, okay?”
She pulls her arm free of my grip and furrows her brow. “Brad, I appreciate the sentiment, but while you’re here, you’re in my care, and for insurance purposes, unless there’s a fire, I can’t let you leave the office if there’s something wrong.”
She moves for the door, but I step in front of her. “Okay, Kaitlyn, you have to stay here. This isn’t my protective older brother thing kicking in, alright? You have to trust me. My spider sense is off the scale right now, and I think we’re about to be in some serious trouble. You need to let me handle this.”
“Brad, what’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”
I go to speak, but hesitate. What can I say? I can’t exactly—
“And I read people for a living, so don’t even think about lying to me. I know sometimes, for whatever reason, you tend to be a little… vague about certain subjects. If you’ve learned anything at all from our sessions, I hope you know you can trust me enough to be honest with me, tell me what’s really going on. You swapped the seats around moments before what sounded like a small bomb went off outside the building. Trust that you can open up to me, Brad.”
I sigh. “Adrian.”
“What?”
“My name isn’t Brad, it’s Adrian.”
“Okay… so, you felt the need to conceal your true identity during our sessions. I can maybe see why—”
I shake my head. “No, Doc… Don’t try to analyze it. Right now, I don’t have the time to explain why you’ve been missing the mark with so many assumptions you’ve made about me. I just need you to trust me… I’m pretty sure we’re about to find ourselves knee-deep in shit, and if we’re gonna get out of this in one piece, you need to listen to what I’m about to say.”
She holds my gaze, and I can see in her eyes that she’s both afraid and professionally curious at the same time. And maybe a little pissed off, which I can understand.
She nods. “Okay, Adrian. Tell me what’s going on.”
I glance over my shoulder at the door, assuring myself it’s still closed. “Have you caught the news today?”
She shakes her head. “I’ve not had chance. I’ve been with clients most of the day.”
“Okay. Well, there was an incident at the Etihad Towers a few hours ago. Most of the top floor in one of the towers was decimated by a helicopter gunship, and close to thirty people lost their lives.”
Her eyes widen with shock. “Oh my God! Was it North Korea again? Do you think there’s still a threat in the city? Is that what this is?”
I shake my head. “There’s no threat in the city. I’ve not seen the ‘official’ story on the news myself. I’m just assuming the incident was at least mentioned on it. But I was there. The chopper came to rescue me, because I was trapped up there with a significant number of armed security guards who had designs on killing me.”
“I… I don’t understand… Is this some kind of metaphor you’re trying to use?”
I smile weakly. “I’m afraid not. This might be hard to believe, Kaitlyn, but sometimes my job requires me to do some… questionable things. And one of those things involved being in that tower today to kill someone.”
Her expression is neutral, as if she’s not committing to believing what I’m saying, but she’s not dismissing it either. It’s probably the professional in her—stay detached, look at the facts, and try to help the person in front of her without letting her own emotions cloud her judgment.
She nods, processing the information. “And did you?”
“Did I what? Kill him?” I shrug. “Oh, yeah, obviously. But I also killed his seven bodyguards, which I wasn’t supposed to do. I did it because it was either them, or me. They left me no choice. But—”
I look back at the door again. I can hear footsteps outside. Only faint, at the moment, but I think they’re getting
closer. We’re in an old apartment building, which has been converted for commercial use. It’s not a typical office block, so there’s one central stairwell and a handful of rooms on each floor. I think the footsteps are coming from two floors below us.
I look back at Kaitlyn. Her bottom lip is trembling. She’s breathing fast. She looks afraid.
I let out a heavy breath. Not of impatience, but of regret. “Look, Kaitlyn, we really don’t have time for this. I’m sorry, but here are the facts—I’m an assassin, and the people I work for have ordered me to kill Lily. She’s also an assassin, and the guy I killed in the Etihad Tower was a favor for her, because she was meant to kill him and failed. As punishment, our mutual employer has ordered her dead and given me the job. I don’t wanna do it, obviously, but it turns out I have a small bomb implanted in my neck, which means if I don’t kill her…” I make the explosion gesture with my hands. “Ka-boom—off comes my head. Hence me coming to you, so you can help me make sense of my shitty life. I think whatever’s going on below us has to do with that, and I don’t think it’s gonna be good. Which is why I need you to do as I say so I can get you to safety.”
“I… I… You’re—”
The footsteps are getting louder outside. Whoever it is, they’re on our floor.
I pull Kaitlyn close to me, put my hand over her mouth, and step to the side, resting against the wall next to the door. Her body is pressed close to mine, and her eyes are wide with genuine fear. I feel really bad about this, but there’s nothing I can do about that right now. I look into her eyes and place a finger to my lips.
Oh, man… what the fuck is going on?
I try to slow my breathing. My heart’s hammering against my chest as the adrenaline begins its familiar surge around my body. The low, rumbling march of multiple boots outside the room is growing louder. I close my eyes, trying to pinpoint how many people there are.
Good Intentions - Adrian Hell #6 (Adrian Hell Series) Page 16
