The Final Hour

by London Miller

  Clearing his thoughts before he went down that road again, Klaus waited around for a little while longer, hoping that he might catch Reagan if she came in during the night shift, but when she didn’t show after a couple of hours, he dropped a twenty on the table and left.

  While he might not have been as forgiving of Lauren’s secret meeting with Klaus a couple of days ago as she had hoped, Lauren had gradually smoothed things over with Mishca, but he hadn’t lost his brusque attitude, especially not when she got another call from Klaus.

  This time, however, she demanded that he meet her at her place rather than an undisclosed location. By the time Klaus got there, Lauren was studying Mishca, already seeing him on edge.

  One of Mishca’s men had already called to let Mishca know that Klaus was on the elevator heading up. Vlad was off to the side, looking just as imposing as he always did, but Luka was out of sight, a first since the Albanians had gone.

  With the way everyone were acting, it was like public enemy number one had arrived. Klaus, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered in the slightest that he was being watched by every single person in the room.

  He casually strolled over to the empty chair across from Lauren, withdrawing a blade from his jacket, a silent message that was quickly received as the others reached for their weapons. For once, Mishca didn’t bother calling them off.

  “What did you want?” Mishca asked without preamble.

  Klaus turned the knife over in his hands, his eyes going over every line and contour of the jagged edges of the imperfections in the blade. He didn’t seem to care that Mishca was speaking to him, and didn’t even bother acknowledging him at all.

  Clearing her throat—earning a glare from Mishca—Lauren spoke up. “Do you know something, Klaus?”

  “Heard back from my guy, and surprisingly, no one is looking to kill off the Russian.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense, he—”

  “How do you know you can trust them?” Mishca interrupted, the muscle in his jaw working when Klaus continued to ignore him.

  Lauren knew that he was used to a certain level of respect, partly due to his position, but they both knew Klaus could care less about that.

  One thing she was really beginning to see for herself was how much satisfaction Klaus was getting out of irritating him.

  But on this, Klaus had a response. “More than I trust any of your lot, Russian.”

  “Does anyone actually call you by your name?” Lauren asked aloud.

  “Then what do you know?” Mishca asked, ignoring Lauren’s question.

  Sighing, Klaus leaned his head back, seeming to grow bored with the entire conversation. “If I knew anything useful, I wouldn’t be here. But, I will need to borrow your female for a few hours.”

  “For what?”

  It was the wrong question, even Lauren knew that as soon as the words fell past Mishca’s lips, but once they were said, Klaus ran with them. He smiled, one that she was used to seeing from Mishca.

  “Why do you think? I thought we already had this conversation.”

  Whatever Klaus meant went right over Lauren’s head, but it got a rise out of Mishca. Before he could make a move against him, Lauren jumped to her feet, blocking Mishca’s path to him.

  “Could you two stop for two minutes? Klaus, I hired you for a job, so do it. Mishca, stop acting like an ass.”

  That made the mercenary scoff, pocketing his knife. “Whatever. If you want me to do my job, then I don’t need the Russian interfering.”

  Mishca made to interject, but this time, Lauren cut him off. “Fine. What do you need?”

  “I need to take a look at that rooftop.” His eyes searched her face, his expression unreadable. “Can you handle that?”

  Lauren didn’t know what she would feel when she went up there. The rational side of her knew that the blood and whatnot would have been cleaned up by now, restoring the place to what it once was, but the other side feared what she might see.

  “Yes,” she said, hoping that if she voiced the affirmative, it would help. “Just give me a moment.”

  With a shrug, Klaus took his exit, but she doubted he went far. When the elevator doors closed behind him, Mishca didn’t waste any time voicing his opinion on the matter.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Hell no. You’re not going.”

  While she respected Mishca’s opinion on this, that didn’t mean she was going to heed it, not on this. “You’re overreacting…again. You’re not worried about him trying to hurt me, this is about some weird rivalry thing you have going on with Klaus.”

  “Lauren—”

  “I need you to trust me, Mish,” she said.

  He finally, reluctantly, let her leave, making her promise to keep her phone on her at all times.

  Klaus was waiting for her at the curb, spinning a set of keys in his hand. With only a tilt of his head, he barely acknowledged her presence, gesturing for her to follow him to a car that had the sleek design of a race car.

  It was big and black, with white stripes going from the hood to the trunk. The windows were tinted just to the brink of legality, and from the way Klaus was admiring it, she doubted he had stolen it.

  He unlocked the door for her, slamming it shut once she was inside, a gesture she hadn’t expected from him. Even the interior was decked out with racing gear, including the bucket seats and the harnesses for seat belts.

  She had to admit, his car was pretty badass.

  Everything was the same, at least that was what troubled Lauren as they stepped out onto the rooftop where her wedding had taken place. Cherry blossoms still in bloom, every chair in place, not a stone overturned.

  It was like that day had never happened though it was seared into her memory.

  Klaus had no sympathy for her however, continuing to walk down the makeshift aisle towards the front. “Show me where you were.”

  Taking a calming breath, Lauren hurried behind him, stopping at the spot where she and Mishca had taken their vows. Without him asking, she pulled him to her side, positioning him where she thought Mishca had been standing.

  “We were about here.”

  “Run me through it.”

  She went through the day in her head. “We said our vows, exchanged rings, kissed—”

  He smirked, cocking an eyebrow. “Want to demonstrate?”

  Rolling her eyes, she said, “Mish wouldn’t be too happy about that. Besides, without him here, you wouldn’t get any enjoyment out of it.”

  “Carry on then.”

  “We turned, everyone was cheering, the sun was in my eye for a moment, then—” She remembered the smile on her face, the cheering of the guests… “—it was a soft noise, the sound the bullet made when it hit hit Mishca, then he fell back a-and—“

  “Hey!” He snapped his fingers in her face, making her blink up at him. “Keep it together, yea? Now, what time would you say you got to the part where you saw the sun in your face?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe…twelve? Twelve-thirty? Why?”

  “Point in the direction where you saw it.”

  He moved to stand behind her, looking to where she pointed.

  “But I don’t understand how this is relevant.”

  His eyes were focused across the street at the rooftop of another building. “You weren’t seeing the sun, that was probably the light reflecting off the scope of the rifle. We need to look over there.”

  Not having much time to question his logic—not that she doubted him—Lauren followed Klaus to the other building, taking the elevator up to the top floor and exiting out onto the roof through the access door. Up here, there was a clear view of the hotel.

  Klaus was scanning the ground, searching for something. Lauren tried to help—though she had no idea what he was looking for—but came up with nothing.

  After a few seconds of just standing there, Klaus canted his head to the side, his gaze focused on something near the edge of the wall. He str
ode towards it, reaching out to touch a slight scuff on the concrete.

  Without him having to say it, this was where the sniper had been.

  He dropped down to one knee, cocking one arm back, extending the other as he mimicked holding a rifle. Lauren looked from him to the roof, remembering the way Mishca flew back. It was—

  “Why did he miss?”

  Klaus’ words drew Lauren from her thoughts. She crossed to his side, trying to see what he saw when he looked across the street.

  “What do you mean? He shot him in the chest.”

  “Right, but he’s not dead.” At the confused look on Lauren’s face, he explained, “Look at the angle. The shot was clean, very little interference and he would have accounted for wind speed before he got up here.”

  “Okay…what are you saying?”

  “Something’s not right.”

  “So he wasn’t trying to kill Mishca? He missed on purpose?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “But what was the point?”

  Klaus got a curious gleam in his eye, one that Lauren didn’t particularly like, but before she could call him on it, he was rushing her out the building and to his car.

  “This,” he said as he pulled them out onto the street, “just got a lot more interesting.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Mishca wasn’t taking what Klaus had to say very well. Since they returned, Lauren had been trying to keep their arguing to a minimum, but they were like fire and ice, and there was nothing she could do to break them apart.

  “Oh right,” Klaus retorted, eyeing Mishca like he was the bane of his existence. “Because you’re such an expert on fucking rifles. Tell me your qualifications again?”

  “Doesn’t matter. You can’t know that for sure.”

  “Again. How would you know anything, you entitled little shit?”

  “Fine!” Mishca barked, taking a seat across from. “Enlighten me.”

  “They only missed your heart by an inch at the most. The shot was clean, hardly any wind that day, and zero obstruction from the other rooftop. Therefore, you lived, only because you weren’t the target.”

  “But that doesn’t make Lauren the target.”

  “According to my contact, she is.”

  Lauren and Mishca both looked at Klaus expectantly, waiting for him to continue. She did remember him on his phone when they arrived back, but since he was texting, she had no idea who he was talking to.

  And this was the reason they had been arguing. Once Klaus suggested that there might have been more to it than just wounding Mishca, then outright saying that they were probably after Lauren and were trying to get Mishca out of the way to make it easier, Mishca didn’t like the sound of that.

  “But even if that’s right,” Lauren said, “why would they shoot Mishca? It wasn’t like I was going to leave Mishca in the hospital by himself.”

  “They assumed Mishca would have sent you away—you’d be safer without him. Probably didn’t think you would hover over him every second of the day. With him out of the picture, you’d be easy enough to deal with, even with the mediocre help the Russian has watching you. I mean, that’s what I would have done.”

  “Never mind that,” Mishca chimed in. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “We use her as bait,” Klaus said.

  “Are you deliberately trying to fuck with me?” Mishca asked, a warning in his eyes.

  Lauren prepared to jump in, thinking to give her input of what they should do, but there was no use trying to jump in between an argument between two brothers…not when there was unaddressed animosity between them.

  “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  Mishca narrowed his eyes on him, the look he had promising pain. “Nyet. I’m not allowing her to go in there alone.”

  “Ooh, hard no. I’m fucking shitting myself cause of your grammar. Calm your shit, I’ll be there.”

  That didn’t seem to make Mishca feel any better.

  Rolling his eyes, Klaus collapsed back on the couch, propping his booted foot up on the table. Any time Mishca knocked it down, he just put it back up. At this point, he didn’t even try anymore.

  “She’s my employer, what does that tell you? I won’t let her get hurt.”

  “You can’t guarantee that.”

  “Then what the fuck do you suggest?” Klaus asked dryly. “Wait for the merc to knock on the front door? I’ve actually done that once or twice, but as much as I like to test my abilities, it’s not as easy as it sounds. Either way, if you want this to go away, you’ll do it.”

  “I still don’t like it.” But Mishca sounded less sure now.

  “You don’t have to like it, but you know I’m right.”

  “God,” Klaus muttered, loosening the tie Lauren had just straightened, “how does he wear these monkey suits?”

  Lauren laughed, noticing just how awkwardly Klaus was standing as he fidgeted with his clothes. He actually looked uncomfortable and the sight of his distress made her wonder if he ever wore a suit.

  “I always think he looks nice,” she replied good-naturedly, batting his hands away as she straightened the tie again.

  He rolled his eyes but stood still. “Of course you do. Maybe he needs to take that stick out his ass.”

  “I assume there’s no point in arguing on that with you. Anyway, I think this look suits you, not just because you look like Mish.”

  “He only resembles me in appearance,” Mishca said entering the room, his eyes hard as he looked over at his brother. “No one would believe he was me for an instant if he opens his mouth.”

  Smiling menacingly, Klaus shot him a bird. “Didn’t seem to matter before, did it Russian?”

  “First, you’re Russian too. Second, will you always bring that up the moment I’m in your presence?”

  “As I live and fucking breathe.”

  At this point, Lauren didn’t need to worry whether or not Klaus would grow infuriated enough to kill Mishca whenever he came around. It seemed like they enjoyed arguing with each other more than anything else, not that she hadn’t noticed the changes between them since their first meeting at the building.

  Lauren didn’t know what had happened with them between then and now, but whatever it was, she was grateful for it. Maybe, if she were lucky, they would quell whatever disagreement that brought such turmoil between them, but she doubted it would be anytime soon.

  As Klaus was readying another threat, Lauren cut them off. “If the two of you are done…we have an opening to get to.”

  Nodding, Klaus headed towards the door, but not before making a point to slam his shoulder into Mishca’s, knocking him back a few steps. Mishca was grappling for patience, not just because of Klaus’ childish behavior, but because he hated that Klaus was able to do that to him. If he’d been fully healed, a brawl might have broken out.

  Before he could retaliate, Lauren moved over to Mishca’s side, staring up into concerned blue eyes. “It’ll be fine, Mish.”

  “I would still feel better if I were there to make sure of that.”

  “Luka will be there, and Klaus, and somebody that Klaus said he would need. I doubt whoever is coming will get anywhere near me with the three of them around.”

  Sighing, Mishca lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a hard kiss to her knuckles. “Stick by them, for me. I know you. You’ll go off half-cocked and—”

  She cut him off with a kiss of her own, feeling his lips turn up beneath hers. “I promise.”

  “I mean it, Lauren,” he said earnestly. “Come back to me.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” Klaus said poking his head back in. “Come on.”

  If looks could kill, Klaus might have died in seconds from the look Mishca sent him. Ignoring Klaus, Lauren turned Mishca’s face back towards her, going up to the tips of her toes to press a lingering kiss against his lips. When his arms wrapped tightly around her, Klaus groaned, throwing his hands up in exasperation as he went to take a seat, drum
ming his fingers on the arm of the chair.

  “Whenever you’re ready. For fuck’s safe, I have shit to do.”

  Outside ‘L’, Lauren felt a bit like a celebrity, not that she had much of a choice since her wedding to Mishca had actually hit the papers—thanks in part to the shooting that had taken place.

  Before they got out of the town car, Klaus passed her a tiny earbud as he placed an identical one in his own ear. “In case you need me,” he explained, motioning for her to take it.

  She fitted the electronic device into her ear, her hair covering it. She waited a few seconds, expecting something to happen, but when it didn’t, she looked to Klaus.

  “It starts transmitting when we speak,” he said aloud, even as she heard him in her head. “I can hear everything you say and everything going on around you, same on your end.”

  “What if it malfunctions?” She yelled the last part, wincing when she saw him snatch the little device from his ear, glaring at her. She hadn’t meant to yell.

  “Trust me, it won’t. And for future reference, no need to yell. I can hear you clearly.”

  “Okay.”

  She touched the door handle, preparing to get out, but he placed a gentle hand on her arm, halting her mid-pull.

  “Are you sure you can handle this?”

  She nodded. “I never backed down from you.”

  He didn’t laugh at her attempt at humor. “Difference was, I never had any intention of killing you. The merc? He does.”

  “I get it, Klaus. I do.”

  Whatever he saw in her expression had him nodding. “Chin up then. He’s watching.”

  With only that warning, he exited the car, coming around to her side to open her door. He was smiling now, extending his hand for her to take. To anyone else, he was Mishca. He really did look the part, but only she would notice the difference between them tonight.

  They each only had one dimple, but they were on different cheeks; Mishca’s on the left, Klaus’ on the right.

  As they quickly entered the club, consumed by the mass of bodies inside, Lauren took a deep breath, forcing the tension from her body.