I felt the breeze hit my face as the doors opened. There was a stiff east wind and I could smell the Atlantic. My car was at the end of the ramp and I had decided to make my move when I opened the passenger door. I turned, but it was too late, apparently Jack had plans of his own. The gun hurled toward my face with a hard, painful thud and I blacked out.
I came around to the sound of a high performance sports engine being down shifted and then climbing up a slow rise. A pair of hands pulled roughly at me, dragging me from the car as I struggled to open my eyes. I was in a garage. I heard Jack’s voice saying to tie me up. I was flat on the concrete, the coolness of it feeling good against my throbbing head. A younger man was pulling my arms behind me and binding them together, then he rolled me over and moved to my ankles. I resisted feebly as he held my feet together and finished the job.
I was finally able to focus as I watched them standing there discussing what plans they had for me.
“Are you sure Sharon won’t be back until after four?”
“Yeah, but I told her I’d meet her and let her know what was happening. She’s paying the guy to get rid of Gavarreen, but it can’t look like a hit.”
“She should just let us finish him off.”
“She has her reasons, but we’ll have enough fun while she’s occupied. You think you can handle keeping our mark secure until I get back?”
“Oh, she’ll be secure. I don’t know if I’m going to wait for you, but I’ll save you a little.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, Ricky. Wait until there are two of us to make sure the little princess doesn’t get loose.”
Ricky looked at me, noticing I was awake. “Well, good morning little princess,” he turned back to Jack. “Don’t be gone too long. You’ve had Sharon to keep you satisfied. I’m ready for some satisfaction of my own.”
Jack smiled, got into a small white car and pulled out of the garage. The door came down as I felt Ricky pick me up off the floor and carry me upstairs. My head was still trying to come out of the fog that had filled it when Jack hit my temple with the gun. I looked at Ricky. He was brown eyed like Jack, but at least ten years younger. His hair was a curly, dirty blond, his features were finer than Jack’s, and he was taller and, apparently, as strong as Micah because my weight didn’t seem to faze him as he walked up to the second floor.
The house was large and I could only assume it was the beach house that Micah already knew about. He carried me into a wide, open living room. I could hear the sound of the waves in the Atlantic hitting the shore and I could smell the salted air.
He laid me down on the couch and seemed to study me for a moment. “You’ve been a real pain in the ass,” he finally spoke. Then he squatted down on his haunches to get close to me. He moved my hair away from my shoulders and neck, exposing my cleavage. I’d seen that look in a man’s eyes before and at the moment he wasn’t thinking about killing me. He smiled as he began lowering his face.
“Don’t you listen to what your brother tells you?” I managed to say. My voice was soft and trembling because I had no defenses with my feet and hands tied.
The smile got bigger, flashing surprisingly white teeth. “So you’re going to talk to me, now?”
“Yeah, well it isn’t easy after being clubbed with a pistol.”
His hand reached up and softly touched the tender area on the side of my head. “Jack can get pretty rough.”
“And you?” I asked. I had to keep this conversation going.
“I can be gentle, for the right person. Now you need to ask yourself if you’re the right person because if you piss me off,” he pulled out a gun from the back of the waistband of his jeans. “I have a really short fuse, and I don’t have to have you while you’re breathing.”
That caused my stomach to roll. I looked at the gun; it was a Glock-17.
“Do you like it?” he questioned, a funny expression on his face. He seemed to understand that the look on my face wasn’t fear, but recognition of the kind of weapon he was holding.
“Glock-17,” I said, closing my eyes for a moment to slow the throbbing that was expanding from my temple down to my cheek bone.
“You know, I think I’m starting to like you.”
I opened my eyes and smiled at him. “You’d like me a lot better if I could wrap my arms and legs around you.”
The surprise hit him and his eyebrows went up.
“I’m not stupid,” I continued my daring plan. “Why do you think Gavarreen has kept me alive this long? He said I’m the best he’s ever had. I guess I can be the best for anyone who’s willing to give me a little more time, besides I enjoy a good thrill ride. Didn’t I hear you say that Jack’s had Sharon and you’ve had to do without?” I could see my words were taking a firm hold on him. “Why is she sleeping with Jack anyway? You’ve certainly got a lot more to offer than he does.” I gave him a thorough look over to let him know I approved of his physique.
He placed the pistol on the coffee table and then his face descended to my exposed skin, more direct than Micah had ever been. His hands moving over places I didn’t want him touching, but I continued to pretend that I was enjoying his caress.
His mouth moved toward mine, but I carefully turned my head to whisper in his ear. “You aren’t afraid of me are you? I know you’re stronger than Micah,” I lied. “You and I shouldn’t have any trouble spending a little time together.”
The look in his eyes was telling me he was over the edge. If he didn’t untie me then I was in big trouble. I put my teeth to his neck and I felt him stiffen, but when my tongue touched his skin he lost all ability to refuse me.
“Yeah, you and I are going to get along just fine,” he panted, grabbing me, roughly this time and rolling me onto my stomach. Now my heart was pounding with a fury that I’d never known. I had in no way ever imagined that I would have to fight a man in hand to hand combat, but as long as the gun wasn’t involved, I felt I had a chance. My arms were free now and he was frantically sliding his hands up the sides of my shirt trying to remove it.
I stopped him and smiled, reaching down as if to undo the top of my jeans. “I can’t take these off with my legs tied together.”
He was obeying my every request at this point and I was almost free. As quickly as he untied my legs, I moved to an upright position. I could tell he was going to try to force me to lie down on the couch, but I stood, crossing my arms and gripping the bottom of my shirt. I pulled it off as he remained wide-eyed watching with eager anticipation.
He fairly collided with me, his muscled arms wrapping around me. My hand slipped down to his pants and his legs parted to give me access to what he was certain I wanted. And I did want exactly that as I slammed my knee as hard and high as I could into his most vulnerable area.
I heard the air leave him as he doubled over in agony. I swung my fist into his windpipe and then grabbed two handfuls of his curly hair, pulling downward, and brought my knee up to crack his nose with all the force I possessed. He hit the floor writhing in pain, blood splattered across my jeans. I grabbed his Glock and my shirt and took off running.
I flew downstairs to the garage, grabbing at a door that was locked with a keyed dead-bolt. My Porsche was there, but Jack had taken my keys. I could hear Ricky swearing upstairs and I knew I was trapped. I dropped the magazine from the gun and made sure it had bullets and then slammed it back into the handle. I ripped the top of it back and chambered the first round, safety off. My hands were shaking so hard that I knew I’d never be able to hit my target, even if he stood perfectly still. I was slipping into a strange type of fear, an animal and instinctive kind of state, and it frightened me more than the man I was trying to escape from.
He was coming down the stairs and I took aim. I’d never shot at anything other than a paper target and I didn’t know if I could fire on someone who didn’t have a weapon. He saw me when he was half way down the staircase, blood staining his face and shirt. He was still bent forward in pain from our last encounter, an
d then he tripped and tumbled down the stairs landing in a heap several feet from the base. I seized the opportunity and charged back upstairs, frantic to find the closest exit. The sliding doors to the second floor patio were right there and I made my choice, I’d jump.
I could hear him once again, the profanity worse than before, the anger hotter and more vicious. I heard a loud cracking sound of wood being splintered and hitting the wall. I pulled at the sliding doors. A pin at the top was lodged tight, preventing me from opening it.
“Damn it!” I pulled at the pin and it didn’t move. There was no choice. I spun around with the Glock and would simply start firing until I hit him. Something was in the opposing hall and was moving toward me from my right and I guessed that Jack had returned.
“Où êtes-vous? Annalisa, où êtes-vous?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing; it wasn’t Jack, it was Micah. I didn’t believe my eyes when he came around the corner. The gun was still clenched in my fists and pointed out in front of me.
He had his hands open in front of him, looking directly into my eyes, “Ne tirez pas, mon amour.” He was walking toward me slowly, as I was backing up, “Stop, Annalisa,” he was crooning.
I could hear Ricky coming up the stairs. Micah put his finger to his lips to tell me to be quiet, motioning me to step into the closest room down the bedroom hallway. It appeared to be the master bedroom. I went to the left of the bed and Micah went right, but just inside the doorway.
When Ricky walked into the room, he evidently had no idea that Micah was standing there because he was intently focused on me. He was still swearing about what he was going to do to me when he got his hands on me. I raised the gun his direction, but before I could take aim Micah simply called his name and Ricky turned to face him. Micah drew both pistols and blew Ricky’s chest completely apart. He never knew what hit him, death was instantaneous. I looked at Micah’s face and it was absolutely expressionless as he re-holstered his guns. I crumpled to the floor. I heard a sound of someone wailing and realized it was coming from me. Micah was at my side, taking the gun from my hands.
“Are you okay?” he kept repeating over and over. “Did he hurt you?”
I couldn’t answer, I couldn’t speak. All I could do was stare at the body lying a few feet away. Blood splattered in a wide pattern over the bedroom wall. He was pulling a piece of fabric from my hand when I realized it was my shirt. He was putting it back over my head, dressing me like a parent getting a small child ready to go somewhere.
His hands were cupping my face, forcing me to look at him. “Leese, did he hurt you?” He asked very slowly this time. Once his question finally sunk in, I shook my head no. And I crumbled into those strong arms, the place that had been both my safe-haven and my death sentence. I was crying and he was shushing me, telling me we had to get out.
“I have to get you out of here before Jack returns. I’m taking you next door.” His arms were scooping me up and I felt like a rag doll.
“Sha—Sharon,” I finally managed to say. “I heard them talking. She’s going to pay someone to kill you.”
His forward motion stopped. “She can’t do that, Leese. If she decides that on her own, she’ll not only start a war, but her own family will turn on her. You must have heard them wrong.”
“No, I didn’t. She wants you dead, too.” I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, burying my face against it. “I couldn’t take it if something happened to you, Micah.”
He didn’t say anything else as he continued into the hallway; that was when we heard the sound of a car pulling in. Micah was swearing. He turned and went back down the hall, past the bedroom where the body was lying, and down to the next room. He put me into a large closet and placed Ricky’s Glock beside me on the floor.
I watched the emotions wash out of him like the tide pulling away from the shore. His eyes were frightening, keen, yet void and heartless. Even the movement of his eyes had become mechanical. And for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, I was overcome by the sheer terror of him. When Ricky had made the mistake of trying to get to me, I watched Micah draw and fire without blinking an eye. His aim had been deadly even when it happened at lightening pace. He pulled out both of his weapons and checked them and then placed them back into the holsters. He checked my weapon and put the safety back on when he realized I had already chambered a bullet.
“Stay hidden. I’ll take care of Jack.”
My stupor was dissolving. “Take me with you…”
“No—I’ll come back for you when it’s done. Don’t move.”
“Be careful,” I whispered, but he was already gone.
I listened as Jack was cursing and coming up from the garage. He was calling Ricky’s name and I knew there would be no response. I could hear him heading toward the hallway where the bedrooms were located. I heard a choked sound as he must have come upon Ricky’s body. There were some mournful sounds and a stifled sob. That was when I remembered Micah saying they were brothers, not just partners. I heard the sound of his gun chambering a bullet and then all was silent.
It seemed that I had waited for such a long time in the closet. I was afraid to leave it, but yet again, the house felt vacant because it was so utterly quiet. I pulled off my shoes to make sure that I could move undetected. I picked up the gun and pushed off the safety with a hand that was still trembling from the last battle. The gun was like a live grenade, one gentle squeeze, one accidental squeeze, one split second of decision or indecision could alter everything.
If I truly believed everything I told Micah, then I knew none of this was simply chance. God knew all along that I would be facing this battle. I only wish that I knew how it was going to end. I was glad that he hadn’t hidden me in the main bedroom; I didn’t want to have to walk around the gruesome body. But he must have guessed it was better that way so that I didn’t dwell on what would happen to me before this day was over. There were only hours left of my life and I knew it would end just as fast.
Every movement was agonizing as I looked and listened carefully before advancing. I turned the next corner into the hall and caught my breath. Across the living room, now moving from a shadow into a sliver of light, I saw the unmistakable flash of a small refraction off a nickel plated barrel. It was Jack coming down the hall from the front door, taking aim toward the garage stairway. Jack and Micah were locked in a deadly game of cat and mouse. They had moved silently around the house and now were about to come face to face.
I watched as his arms became visible, then his shoulders and finally his evil face appeared. He was nervous to be facing Micah; even though the house was cool, I could see the beads of perspiration on his face. I repositioned myself low on the wall and slid around the corner behind the leather sofa. His chest was still hidden behind the wall and I knew better than to try for the shot.
Then I saw what he saw. A silent shadow was moving up the stairwell. I knew from the tiny amount that I could see, it was Micah. He was working his way back to where he had left me and now, if he made it to the top and took that fateful quick step through the short open space between the top of the stairwell and the gallery wall, Jack would shoot him, and a war would begin.
Jack was no longer moving, and there was only one place for me to aim with any hope of hitting him at this distance; his head came forward by another fraction of an inch as he was taking aim and preparing to fire. If I stood, he would see me and he would have to come around the corner of the wall to get a clean shot. He would have to make a rapid decision to either get rid of me and face Micah as he flew into the room, or retreat. Either way, Micah should be out of the line of fire.
With no more time, and Micah getting too close to taking that one exposed step, I had no choice. My gun would have to be lowered or he would not try for the shot. I stood up.
What happened was so fast it didn’t even seem possible. Jack made his choice and swung out into the living room, readjusting his aim at me as I turned sideways and raised my
arm from behind the couch with Ricky’s Glock leveling at him in the same moment. My only saving grace was that I believe it surprised him to see the gun in my hand. All this occurred within a hundredth of a second and I had no choice, but to fire before he did. I watched the shell fly out the top of the gun, the blast causing my hand to sting and my ears to vibrate. He fired, but my bullet had already struck in his upper left shoulder causing his aim to be too high.
It was as if Micah had ghosted into the scene when he had heard the swish of fabric as we drew on each other. Jack was down, writhing in pain. His gun had fallen from his hand. I hadn’t killed him, but I must have broken through the clavicle and shoulder blade. Micah was on him, kicking the gun away and before I could say anything, he pumped one more round without thought, without mercy, without flinching into Jack’s heart ending his life immediately.
He turned and looked at me, almost as if he was seeing a stranger. I had begun to tremble, the gun in my hand feeling like burning steel. I reached down with my left hand to push the safety back on before I dropped it and caused a misfire. It was as if when I moved to bring my hands together on the weapon, his reaction was automatic. His guns came up. I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t watch what he was going to do. I couldn’t watch the uncaring, inhuman, untouchable Micah fire at me.
“Annalisa,” came my name whispered from across the room. I still couldn’t open them. I heard his footsteps and then the feel of his hands carefully removing the gun from my own. Those warm hands cupping my face, “Annalisa, open your eyes.”
I took a breath and opened them; his face was right there, his eyes still void yet struggling. “You shouldn’t have stood up, he could have killed you.”
“How—how did you know?”
“I heard the noise from my right. I knew where he was, but I didn’t know where you were. And then I realized you were trying to draw his fire.” Micah was coming back to me, the void was disappearing. “You shouldn’t have had a chance to fire. Why wasn’t your gun raised?”
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