by Carmen Faye
It was less than a hundred yards, but he still took the time to estimate the cross wind speed, and settle himself into a stable and unmoving kneeling position, resting his elbow on the facade lip-wall.
Neil was facing him, at the head of the long table. No one sat at the other end. In fact there wasn't even a chair there, which was interesting to Simon. The two girls sat closest to Neil, the eldest on his right, and beside them were the two women. They were just beginning to serve up the food, which looked like it was Thai. There were lots of smiles and even some laughter. Simon, in the quiet of the Miami summer night, exhaled, stilled his body, sighted on Neil's forehead, and pulled the trigger.
Chapter 26
Friday afternoon, Shayla was in a good mood. Better than good really. There was no sign or word from Anton, or any dark warnings from Neil's friends of impending doom. The twenty-four hour mark had passed, and then passed again, with no one showing up at the door to kill them. And, the girls were on their way over to spend the night with them.
Sydney had two older brothers, but Shayla was an only child from a home with little family in the house. She was sure she had grandparents on her mother's side, somewhere in Arizona, but she never met them, and knew nothing about them. But now, Shayla had a large and growing family with Neil and Sydney. The girls were a wonderful part of that family, and she was smitten with the both of them — though Sandy, the youngest, was in full possession of her heart-strings.
Sandy and her sent many text messages to each other every day and shared digital pictures of book covers, movie posters, cute boys, jewelry, sunsets, awesome cars, cute boys, painted fingernails, painted toenails, funny faces, cute boys and anything else they wanted to share with the other — and cute boys. They talked on the phone together at least three times every week, and Sandy always sent her a good-night-heart message when she went to bed.
She liked Jill, Neil's oldest sister, but Jill gravitated more toward Sydney, who — if Shayla's radar was working correctly — Jill had a bit of a crush on.
She wondered if Sydney realized this, and if she should bring it up, but so far it seemed harmless, and perhaps more of a hero thing than an actual romantic crush. She wouldn't be surprised at all to find that Sydney was oblivious to Jill's clandestine attentions. She also wouldn't be surprised to discover that Jill herself was unaware of her shy and furtive glances at her wife. She also got the impression from Jill's manner that she would be upset at the suggestion that she was gay — so Shayla kept her mouth shut. Not everything needed to be voiced or discussed.
When they got back home with Thai food, the girls were already there with Neil, and in his studio. After setting down the boxes of carry-out food, they both went in to see what the three of them were up to, and found Neil explaining how he mixed up music and then added in his guitar music. Then he played them his latest composition, turning it up so that the bass could be felt across their skin.
It was good., and when Neil's guitar began to play she got goosebumps, and began moving her hips to the rhythm.
After the song was over, she and Sydney clapped their hands and the girls and Neil turned around to find them in the doorway. Sandy ran to her and hit her in the gut with a hug.
"Shayla!" she screamed. "Did you hear that? Wasn't that great!"
"Yes I did. It made me want to dance," she agreed.
"Me too! It rocked!" Sandy agreed, then she gave Sydney a hug. "Is diner here? Can I help?"
"Sure," Sydney told her and then gave a smile to Jill who, Shayla believed, almost blushed. "Want to help too Jill?"
"Sure," Jill said, her voice and manner much more controlled than Sandy's, but not so much she didn't seem pleased at the offer.
Shayla turned on the lights in the living-room and in the dining-room, and then turned on the radio. Then she went into the kitchen with the others and helped to dish up the food into serving plates and bowls. Jill set the table with plates and ware. Sandy grabbed up a vase of flowers that Neil had brought home the day before and put them on the table.
It was a good night, and all around her was laughter and smiles and a feeling of domestic excitement — just happy to be together. It wasn't a party, or an event, or celebration — it was so much more than that. It was Friday night, with family.
Once Neil came out of his studio and sat down at the head of the table, the girls sat down at each side of him, leaving the other two chairs to her and Sydney, which felt perfect. She sat down next to Sandy, with Sydney next to Jill, and the sparkle in her eye was unmistakable, again making her wonder if she shouldn't mention something to Sydney after all.
But really, what would Sydney do? Probably be nervous, which would be the worst thing she could do, because Sydney was generally aggressive when she got nervous — so, no, she wouldn't mention anything. Just let it be.
Jill was a teen-ager and still figuring herself out and dealing with hormones that didn't need any logical or real reason to rage. Just because her body was attracted to Sydney, didn't mean anything really. Sydney was a beautiful woman, as well as strong, aggressive, and fun. Why wouldn't Jill, an aggressive soccer player, be attracted to her? If for no other reason than as a role-model, which could get all fucked up with teen-age hormones raging and messing with a girl's body chemistry.
She was just wondering if she should talk to Amanda about it though, when Sydney reached for the noodles and spilled her wine glass. She jumped up, grabbing for the glass, which was silly really, the wine was already covering the table side, when she felt a tug hit her shoulder, and then she was spinning, and crashing into Sandy who had stood up as well.
Then Hell broke free, and the world erupted into violence and screams.
A dark wind roared and lifted the long table, to stand on end, sending dishes and glasses flying to the floor. She fell into Sandy's chair and then landed on the carpet as the cold winter wind ran past her heading for the front door, with a gun in his hand. Sandy was screaming and pushing her little hands on her shoulder and yelling for Sydney. Then Sydney was there, saying "Oh my god! Oh my god!"
But Shayla's eyes were on the beast that formed out of the winter wind. In the beat of her heart Neil had changed from a calm, fun, older brother and lover, to a storm of violence. His right hand hammered into the wall beside the front door and ripped out a huge rifle, dropping the pistol to the floor. Then he threw open the front door, got down one knee bringing the rifle up the sending a thunder of bullets into the night.
The roaring stream of bullets felt like it would never end, and then there was a loud pop! A second later a massive explosion of roaring flames, and car alarms. The street, went mad. Neil ran out into the night. The rifle thundered another stream of hot lead, then popped again.
Sydney ran toward the door and scooped up the dropped pistol and then ran back to her.
"It's alright baby! I'm calling the ambulance right now," Sydney told her.
Ambulance? Why? Who was hurt?
Then she saw the blood all over Sandy's and Jill's hands from pressing the wound on her shoulder.
Another explosion rocked the night outside, followed by another stream of rifle fire.
"I love you pixie," she said to Sandy, and then the world faded to black.
* * *
Simon ran down the street. He knew Neil was behind him. He was not only sure that Neil could see him, but was certain that he could smell him as well. Never before had Simon felt so well-marked, and exposed.
Neil had reacted without a second of hesitation to his wife being shot by the bullet meant for him. It was if he were waiting for the moment. No confusion as to what had happened, what the threat was, and where it was located. His first burst of fire destroyed the facade was he was behind sending shattered wood and plaster into Simon's eyes.
How could he know?
The first 40mm grenade nearly landed in his lap, and would have if he wasn't already running.
Simon was in the best shape of his life, but Neil was gaining on him. He could hear
his boots getting louder, closer, and feel his iron gray eyes on the back of his neck -- back where his skin crawled with the dread of teeth baring down on his exposed flesh.
Simon's trained mind decided on a defense and his assassin's body readied itself to respond to a grapple or a tackle, but then his rear foot was kicked so hard it tangled with the other and he fell splayed out onto the sidewalk. And with a roar Neil was on him.
With lightning fast strikes, Simon desperately hammered skilled fists into Neil's chest and throat. The iron eyes held his without a blink, as if his blows were squirts of water.
Then the eyes flared, Neil snatched both of his arms out of the air by the wrists and with a vicious twist Simon's wrist bones snapped.
"It's too bad I can't kill you twice," Neil growled and gripped Simon's head. There was a sudden, violent cracking sound, and Simon realized it was the sound of his neck breaking.
Simon Grim looked into the savage gray eyes rimmed with the gold of a tiger, and died.
Chapter 27
The first time Shayla woke was confusion and chaos. The gurney she was on landed on the ground outside of the ambulance and medics were rushing her into the emergency room doors. Doctors were suddenly in her face with flashlights and barking orders. Ceiling lights rolled by above her as she heard words like 'STAT' and 'Surgery'. The pain in her shoulder throbbed and burned.
The next time she woke was in a room with crying women, and then Sydney was there, holding her hand.
"Shayla?" Sydney asked softly. "Shayla? Are you awake baby?"
She met her wife's eyes and nodded. She tried to speak, but her throat was too dry. She forced the word "Thirsty."
Sydney offered her a cup of water with a bendy-straw. She sipped, and then nodded as relief swelled in her throat.
"Hospital?" she asked Sydney.
"Yes," Sydney agreed. "They got the bullet out. It took a while because it was fragmented."
"There goes our Italian photo-shoot," she sighed with what she hoped was a playful grin.
Sydney looked confused for a moment, and then laughed and wiped away some tears.
Sandy and Jill came around to the other side of the bed and Sandy took her hand, "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine pixie," she told her.
"After you said you loved me, I thought you died," Sandy blubbered.
"I said I loved you, to let you know I wasn't going anywhere," she told her princess.
She looked back to Sydney, and asked, "Neil?"
Sydney looked behind her, checking that the door was closed, and then said, "No Neil. Not to anyone else, alright?"
Her mind pieced together the last events before she passed out at the house. "Alright," she answered. "Now, tell me."
Sydney checked the door again, and then said quietly, "He killed the man who shot you, and then left on his trike with that rifle he had hidden in the wall. I think he went after Anton because the news had a story. We're not sure though. The cops are pretty sure someone else was in the house with us, but we've kept quiet."
She processed this, and then told Sydney, "Call our lawyer, right now. Find her." Then to the girls she said, "Good work, but keep it quiet. Don't say anything about Neil. You were visiting with us."
Both of them nodded solemnly and she knew they would do exactly what she asked of them.
It took a little more than an hour for Margaret House, the lawyer that helped them with getting their names changed, to arrive.
"I don't want to talk with them here," Shayla told the older woman.
Margaret nodded her head and then went out to the hallway and talked with the detectives. She left the door open and they could hear her say, "My client is a victim, not a criminal. If you call my office, we'll be glad to come down and make a statement after she is released. We'll only be making a statement however, not subjecting her to any type of examination."
"Look," said the detective, a man in his early forties with balding brown hair and an over-sized gut, "We know someone else was in there with them, and we're pretty sure that he killed a man, which is a crime. So is obstruction."
"I'm clear on the law detective," Margaret said patiently. "I have a degree and everything. So, unless you intend on arresting any of my clients now, then this conversation is over. Here's my card, call my office and make an appointment for next week. Perhaps Wednesday or Thursday."
"All of them are your clients?" The detective asked suspiciously.
"All of them, and the girls are minors, so you aren't talking to them at all," Margaret told him.
"Fine," said the detective. "Since they aren't involved at all, then they won't be needing police protection from whoever hired a professional killer to shoot up their house. Right?"
Margaret didn't flinch, "That's probably true detective. Now, I'm going to talk with my client for a while and you can go find this killer you are referring to."
"It's more than true," said a deep male voice from behind the detective. "We got her back."
The detective turned and Shayla could see West and Brian standing there.
"Who the fuck are you two supposed to be?" the detective asked.
"Watch your language in front of the girls detective," West growled at him. "We're licensed bodyguards, here's our ID's and our concealed weapons permits. Any further questions can be directed to Shayla's lawyer, because we're just hired hands, and know nothing about what is going on, except that no one, except medical personnel, is allowed in that recovery room. That includes you."
The detective turned back to Margaret, "You be sure to inform your client about obstruction Ms. House. Make sure she understands, because if I find the smallest fraction of evidence that she has answers we need, then I swear to you I'll arrest her."
"Threatening my client will be unhealthy for your career. That, detective, is a promise," Margaret returned.
The detective and the uniformed police officer left, and Margaret came back into the room, "Alright, now, the more I know the more I can help." Then she looked at the girls and added, "But perhaps it should wait?"
Shayla looked to the girls as well and then shook her head, "No, they've both been shot at because of this. They should at least know why." But then she asked Jill, "Have you called your mother yet? Does she know what's going on?"
Jill looked at the floor, "No, we didn't know if we should."
"She shouldn't learn about it on the evening news. So call her now. Tell her what happened and let her know you're alright."
Jill called her mother, Amanda, and told her what happened and that they were alright but that Shayla was hurt and in the hospital. Then she handed her phone to Sandy who talked with her for a while and assured her that she was alright as well and wanted to stay.
When Sandy handed the phone back to Jill, she told Shayla, "My mom is on the way."
"That's good. Sydney and you two should spend the night at your house where it's safe for now," she told her.
"But I want to stay with you," Sandy protested.
"And I love you pixie, but I'm safe. I have two large, protective men outside the door and you should get some rest so you can help me when I go home tomorrow," she told her.
"You'll be home tomorrow?"
"I don't see why not," she told Sandy. "They'll probably want to keep me tonight, just to make sure I'm not going to have any problems, but other than the pain, I'm fine."
"Maybe you should come to our house as well," Sandy told her.
"That might be a good idea. I'll think about that," she said, and then to Jill, "Tell your mom that you two are going to come home with Sydney. There's no reason for her to come down here. I'll see her tomorrow. Alright."
Jill nodded and relayed the information, then said, "Mom said not to be foolish, she's coming down to see you."
"Tell her visiting hours are over, I'm probably going to have a pain pill here in a bit and pass-out. At least I hope I am."
Jill relayed the message again, and then looked at Shayla and nodded her hea
d, as a nurse came in and started fussing around and then took vitals and said her doctor would be in to see her shortly.
Sydney re-took her hand after the doctor left and Jill hung up the phone. Then she asked that West and Brian shut the door and make sure they weren't being listened in on, then she told her lawyer, and the girls, about trying to go straight after dealing cocaine for two years.
After she was done, the girls were wide-eyed and her lawyer thoughtful.
Margaret looked her over and said, "They can get you for obstruction for not telling them about Neil. There's not much I can do for you there if that detective was a serious as he sounded."
