Broken Love

by Drake, Tabatha

  “Boxcar, there’s not a single person here who will condemn you for what you did,” I say. “Gun to the head, I’m pretty sure most of us would have made the same choice.” His grip relaxes, but it doesn’t fall. “If you want to find out what’s going on in that warehouse then this is your best chance. You don’t have to trust them but trust me.”

  He drops my hand. “All right…”

  There’s betrayal in his tone but I can’t just let him wander out there and get killed. I feel a connection to Boxcar, one I’m not entirely sure how to describe, but one thing is certain: I’m not ready to let it go yet.

  Not until I know for sure what it means.

  Chapter 18

  Caleb

  Now

  “Does this look better in green or blue?”

  I raise my head. Lilah stands in front of a mirror in the corner with two expensive cocktail dresses in either hand hanging from padded hangers. She stares at me with expectation, like we’re just best friends out for a day of shopping and caramel lattes.

  However, in my experience, one friend usually isn’t duct-taped to a chair and pumped full of a rather extreme sedative.

  My tongue feels weak and heavy but at least I’ve stopped slurring. “No idea,” I say.

  She scoffs and tosses the blue one down before sliding the green one off its hanger. “You know, you’re making this whole thing way more unpleasant than it needs to be.”

  I force a laugh and look around the abandoned boutique. It wasn’t quite this deserted twenty minutes ago when Lilah walked in here and politely asked everyone to leave while Elijah knocked out the poor check-out girl. She’ll wake up eventually, although I’m surprised they are so willing to leave a trail of witnesses around.

  Lilah pulls her shirt off and I catch sight of the black cobra tattoo swirling down from between her covered breasts, nestled inside a tight, red bra. I’ve only seen Fox’s tattoo once. He wants to have it removed but every tattoo removal place in the country has been on high alert since Snake Eyes was exposed. Something tells me the Harts aren’t too eager to remove theirs. They seem like the type who take a lot of pride in their work.

  “I’m really digging the green…” Lilah ponders aloud. “It brings out my eyes.”

  “I don’t know…” I quip, staring at the bright, crimson shiner taking hold of her forehead. “Green and red are more holiday colors, don’t you think?”

  She spins around to face me and her lips twitch. “Cute.”

  I shrug.

  Lilah pushes the dress down to the floor and grabs the blue one to try on as Elijah steps in from the back.

  “For fuck’s sake, Lilah…” he says, shaking his head and averting his eyes. “Is this really the time for that?”

  “Well, this bastard is taking too long.” She slides the blue dress down over her sizable chest. “I’m bored and I never get to buy new clothes.”

  “Because we don’t exactly have anywhere to put them,” he says. “We live on the road, remember?”

  “Not for very much longer, if you’re to have your way.” She steps back in front of the mirror to check out the dress and tilts her head in approval. “You know what, I think you’re right, Caleb. Blue is better.”

  “Yay,” I mutter.

  Elijah hops up to sit on the counter and crosses his arms. “My way?”

  “Oh, please,” she says. “You’re obviously considering going through with what Dante suggested.”

  “And you’re not?”

  “No. Of course, I’m not.”

  She pulls the dress off and Elijah twists his neck in my direction, rolling his eyes with annoyance. It’s clear which one of them inherited modesty and which one obviously has no shame whatsoever.

  “Lilah, I just think that it might be nice to try living a normal life for once in our lives,” he says.

  “Uh-huh…” she murmurs, her eyes full of suspicion as she slips back into her own shirt.

  “I really don’t think there’d be any harm in trying. It’s not like I’m about to go shopping for a mini-van or anything.”

  “Okay. Hey, Caleb.” She zips her pants. “You and I aren’t that different.”

  “We’re what?” I ask.

  “We both come from very interesting backgrounds,” she says, counting on her fingers. “We’re both highly-trained in various forms of combat and possess unique, but valuable, survival skills.”

  “What’s your point?”

  She sighs. “When you came back from the war, did normal life come easy to you?”

  “Lilah, come on—” Elijah interrupts. “No offense to you, Caleb, but this doesn’t seem like the type of thing we need your opinion on.”

  “Don’t be rude, Elijah,” she says, batting her thick eyelashes. “Her opinion is just as valid as anyone else’s.”

  “I’m not saying it isn’t, but it might be a bit tainted considering we tied her to a chair.”

  “Caleb, be honest.” Lilah crosses her arms in defiance. “You came back home and you looked around. Were you happy to be here or were you confused as all hell?”

  “Oh, it was great, actually,” I say, forcing a tight smile. “Normal life is the best thing ever. In fact, you two should start right now. Go home. No hard feelings. Bye-bye.”

  Elijah raises a victorious brow at his twin. “See?”

  “I’m going to take her sarcastic response as full agreement to my original point,” Lilah says. “As much as Dante wants to believe it, we can never live normal lives. I wish it were possible, I do, but…” She shakes her head. “He and Lucy are living on borrowed time and we all know it.”

  Elijah falls silent and subtle agreement fills his eyes.

  I raise my head up a little higher. “Who are Dante and Lucy?”

  He sighs, firing a hard look at Lilah. “Nice going.”

  “What difference does it make?” I ask. “You’re planning on killing me anyway, right?”

  Lilah snorts with a sour expression. “I don’t kill anyone unless someone pays me to.”

  “Then, who’s paying you to kill Fox?”

  They both press their lips together and their eyes lock.

  Elijah hops off the counter and wanders behind it to check the outside security feed. “I think that’s a good place to hit the pause button on this conversation, sis.”

  Lilah shifts on her feet. “Fine.”

  I watch them closely. The slight flare of their nostrils. The low twitch of their brows. The fear hidden deep in their eyes. The answer to my question isn’t a simple as I thought it’d be. There’s someone behind the scenes sliding a pointed finger along their throats to keep them quiet.

  Lilah kneels next to my chair and pulls her pack in closer so she can stuff a few slinky dresses inside of it.

  “No,” I say, breaking the awkward silence.

  She looks up at me, preparing to shoot down any judgmental snark I might throw at her. “No, what?”

  “Normal life doesn’t come easy,” I answer. “It sucks, actually. I’ve been here for two years and it’s still a struggle to even get out of bed in the morning.”

  The tension slips from her shoulders. “Would you go back in, if you could?”

  “Not sure. Depends, I suppose.”

  “On what?”

  “Whether or not anyone wanted me around at all.”

  Her face falls a little more, but a quick blink brings her attention back to me. “What about your husband?” she asks.

  I laugh softly. “If you can even call him that.”

  “Honey…” She shifts into a side-eye. “We dropped your name once and he came running out here from fucking Massachusetts.”

  A smile visits my mouth, but I hold it down. “I guess he did.”

  She stands up and tosses her now stuffed bag onto a seat near the wall.

  “Lilah, you don’t have to do this,” I say. “Just leave Fox alone and we can—”

  “Don’t confuse my docile tone for weakness, Caleb,” she says quic
kly. “I came here to do a job and I intend on finishing it. It’s nothing personal.”

  “Fox is like a brother to me.” I glance at Elijah. “Surely, you can imagine why I want to protect him.”

  “I’m sorry.” She swallows. “But it’s your family or mine.”

  I open my mouth to argue further but quickly realize there’s no point. Lilah and Elijah are trained killers. Appealing to their humanity isn’t going to get me very far. No amount of sisterly bonding over boutique dresses is going to change her mind.

  “I’m sorry about your eye,” I say instead.

  She smirks. “No, you’re not.”

  “You’re right. You deserved it.”

  Her curved brow points upward and she spins on her heel to join Elijah behind the counter.

  Before she takes three steps, the lights of the store go dark and she freezes in place.

  “Elijah…” she says, “what’d you do?”

  “It wasn’t me.” He stares at the computer again and I hear the frantic taps of keys and clicks of the mouse. “The outdoor security cams have been overridden.”

  “So, under-rid them.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Move.” Lilah nudges him aside to take control but the monitor shuts off the second she touches the keyboard. “Dammit…”

  An explosion echoes from the back rooms, sending Elijah and Lilah into a quick sprint toward the source. With their eyes finally off me, I try to pull the tight tape keeping me latched to the chair, but I can do nothing useful in my current condition. I doubt I could even stand up on my own with this shit still pumping through my body.

  “Caleb.”

  I look over my shoulder, drawn to his quick, piercing whisper. “Boxcar?” I gasp.

  He kneels in front of me and pulls a pocketknife from his pack.

  “What the hell are you doing—”

  “I tracked your phone call,” he says, smirking like a smartass.

  “Yeah, except it was their phone call. You walked right into a damn trap.”

  He pauses. “I did?”

  “Yeah, you did,” Elijah says behind him.

  I deflate. Boxcar peeks around and does the same as Lilah and Elijah raise their guns.

  “Drop the knife, Boxcar,” Lilah warns.

  Boxcar gazes up at me over the rims of his glasses. His fingers spread wide and the tiny knife tumbles to the floor.

  “Sorry,” he whispers to me.

  “It’s okay…” I say, trying to hide the fear clenching my chest.

  Now that he’s here, Elijah’s threats from earlier come hurtling back to me.

  Lilah grabs his arm as Elijah pulls up a second chair and positions it across from me. They force Boxcar onto it and Lilah keeps one hand on his shoulder to hold him in place.

  “Please, don’t hurt him,” I say.

  “Tell us where we can find Fox and we won’t,” Lilah says. “Last chance.”

  Elijah withdraws a cylindrical canvas bag and unrolls it across the counter to reveal various knives inside, each one just waiting to carve into Boxcar.

  My heart sinks.

  “Please,” I beg.

  Boxcar stares back at me and I recognize his eyes. It’s that same cocky glance like he has everything under control but he sure as hell doesn’t. He nods at me, but fear overtakes him as Elijah passes a glittering blade in front of his widening eyes and into Lilah’s outstretched hand.

  “Boxcar,” Lilah begins again, “think about it. It’s just Fox Fitzpatrick.”

  Boxcar shakes his head. “He saved my life.”

  “And he really fucked up ours,” she replies. “Along with the lives of hundreds of others. He could have gone out quietly. Instead, he chose to sink the ship while he snuck off in a damn lifeboat.”

  “Boo-hoo,” he mutters.

  I inhale sharply as Lilah flexes her fingers around the knife. “Box…”

  “No, I stand by it,” he says with even more of that damned cocky glance. “Why should we care about a bunch of assassins having a career crisis?”

  “Because…” Elijah says, clearing his throat, “it wasn’t just a bunch of assassins who had their lives torn away by all of this. I can think of one innocent girl in Illinois who may never walk again and the reason why traces right back to Fox’s actions. Who knows how far out that ripple has traveled and how many lives have been tampered with because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.”

  “Killing Fox won’t change any of that,” Boxcar says.

  “No, but it’ll make our boss very happy. Believe me when I tell you that it’s better off for everyone involved, including the two of you, that she stays that way.”

  “We’re not giving up Fox,” I say through my teeth, drawing Boxcar’s shaking eyes.

  He nods back at me. “Do what you want. Cut me, kill me. I don’t care.”

  “You’re willing to die to protect him?” Lilah asks.

  Boxcar doesn’t hesitate. “Yes. He’d do the same for me.”

  “Are you willing to watch her die to protect him?”

  I can see it in his eyes. No. He’s absolutely not willing to watch me die at all. His tense shoulders submit down and his jaw flexes.

  “Box, no,” I say. “They aren’t going to kill me. They’ve already told me that.”

  Lilah smirks. “And you believed me?”

  Her hand slips off Boxcar’s shoulder as she steps in my direction. He shifts in his chair but Elijah forces him back down with a strong hand.

  “We were told to take care of Fox Fitzpatrick,” she says, calm as ever. “The reward is well-worth an extra one or two lives and I will bear that weight if I have to.”

  She touches the cold blade to my neck and Boxcar pinches his eyes closed.

  “Please, stop—” he says.

  “Tell us where Fox is,” she says. I feel the sharp pressure on my skin and Boxcar’s resolve crumbles even more. “You have three seconds before I spill every drop of her onto the floor.”

  “Box, don’t—” I cry.

  “Three.”

  He grits his teeth.

  “Two.”

  The knife digs deeper.

  “One—”

  “Okay!” Boxcar shouts. “He’s here…”

  I exhale as sadness overwhelms me. “Box…”

  “In Los Angeles,” he tells them. “I’ll take you to him.”

  Lilah lowers the blade and passes it back to Elijah. Her cold eyes return to me and she turns up an even colder smile. “I guess he didn’t rush out here just for you after all,” she says.

  The twins wander away from us to gather their things. I feel Boxcar’s stare on me, but I can’t bring myself to even look at him.

  Dammit, Boxcar. She was bluffing. Even if she wasn’t, you shouldn’t have traded Fox’s life for mine.

  Elijah walks back over to my chair and swipes the duct tape around my wrists with his knife. My arms slink down into my lap on their own. I think for a moment that I’ll try to lift them, but I can barely get them elbow high before they fall again. He moves to lift me up and carry me out.

  Boxcar steps forward. “No,” he says. “I’ll do that.”

  Elijah pauses and releases me, taking a slow step back as Boxcar kneels in front of me.

  “You okay?” Boxcar whispers.

  I don’t answer. Instead, I give a half shake of my head.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, his eyes dark with shame. “There’s no other way. He’ll understand.”

  “Let’s go,” Lilah barks, growing impatient.

  Boxcar helps me out of the chair. I feel my knees caving beneath my weight already. I lean against his willing shoulders to keep myself up. He sighs and bends over to scoop me into his arms, but I don’t do a thing to argue. The swelling warmth in my chest wouldn’t allow it anyway. He holds me closer. I rest my head on his shoulder, accepting the embrace.

  As twisted as she is, Lilah is right. Boxcar would sacrifice just about anything to save my life. I can’t deny or igno
re that fact any longer. He may be all I have left once this is all over.

  I wrap my arms around his neck, moving as quickly as my dead muscles will allow and his grip tightens around me. He holds me as close as possible, almost as if it’s the last time he ever will.

  The Harts lead us out into the back alleyway and into their black car. The two of them sit up front while Boxcar keeps a firm grip on me. Fox’s address passes off his tongue and he squeezes my hand to beg for my forgiveness.

  “If you’re lying,” Lilah hums from the driver’s seat, “I’ll kill you.”

  “He’s not,” I murmur, leaning against Boxcar’s shoulder.

  “I figured, but it’s fun to say.”

  I don’t have the energy to laugh at her joke, nor would I if I did.

  I can’t believe I’m about to go through this all over again.

  The death of Fox Fitzpatrick.

  Chapter 19

  Boxcar

  Then

  “So, let me get this straight…”

  Rhys heaves a thick sigh and I feel the phantom noose tighten a little more around my neck. He leans forward from his spot on the edge of the table in the command tent, his eyes burrowing a little deeper into mine.

  “You got kidnapped by an old lady?”

  Rogers and West chuckle behind my chair but I ignore it. “It wasn’t so much the old lady as it was the giant men with assault rifles,” I say. “But… yes.”

  “And you think she’s here?”

  I shake my head. “Not her but they are. I saw them on the local surveillance footage from Kabul.”

  He raises a brow. “And how did you get a hold of that?”

  “It wasn’t difficult. Isn’t it my job to keep an eye on things around here anyway?”

  “We’re a little far from Kabul, kid.”

  My head drops. “You can press charges against me later but — please — we’ve already wasted enough time. They could be gone by now.”

  Rhys pauses as his eyes scan the others behind me. “Fawn,” he mutters, “you vouch for this?”

  “I wouldn’t have brought it to you if I didn’t, sir,” she answers.