Even as sweat dripped down my temple, and my mouth went dry, and I wet my mouth with the tip of my tongue in a nervous gesture… I couldn’t say yes. Not even as a lie. Even knowing I could tell a convincing lie and we would be out of there.
"No."
He just looked at me, his eyes dark. The smile was gone, leaving his face dark. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest, wondering what he was going to do to me. I wanted to whimper when I saw his hand rise with the gun. But he wasn’t pointing it at me. I felt my eyes widen, following the gun's aim. He didn’t hesitate, and I heard the gun go off and saw Gabe go down. I thought I screamed in the same second, but both sounds seemed to be lost in the music coming from below.
Stunning Cop
Clay
I could almost feel sorry for the woman. Scratch the almost; I did feel sorry for her. She was young, and if the grapevine proved true, still new to the police force. She wouldn’t know all that much about death. I didn’t think secluded police academy training prepared people for that kind of reality.
She was shaking in place, her breathing loud even with the music, wide eyes staring at her partner. I wondered if she saw him, or something else. The human mind was a fascinating, at the same time tricky, thing. It only let you process what you could stand to. It had taken me a while to be able to see the people I killed as dead bodies.
It was the worst kind of situation to find yourself in, the worst way to experience cold-blooded death so closely, seeing your partner get killed.
I could hear Jimmy laugh as he came closer. I didn’t think the boy was all that right in the head, a lot worse off than his father. He wasn’t bothered by death at all, and it made me wonder if he'd been born so uncaring or if his father just got him accustomed to it sooner. I couldn’t decide which was more tragic.
Then the loud-mouth started taunting her;
"Well, Officer Foley. Looks like a little accident just happened, hmm?" he smiled, almost like his father, but his held too much glee.
Eric practically looked at him with stars in his eyes, a father made proud.
"You do realize, now, that with the ballistics on your gun, we could easily frame you for the murder of a fellow cop. I hope you seriously reconsider your options before giving an answer to the question this time."
When had the kid grown this evil? Though considering who his dad was, I was more surprised he knew such big words.
Eric told her again, short and to the point: "Blow the trial."
He probably thought he had her. I would have thought the same. But I had angled myself to watch her face, and behind the fear, the dawning horror and disgust was plain fury. I almost felt impressed, no matter how stupid it was. This girl wasn’t going to back down so easily.
And then she did something I hadn't expected, something I had never seen outside of a movie before. She spits, right in in his face, even as she stood there trembling and her breath wheezing in and out of her chest. This girl was brave.
I knew Eric was angry, but he was good at hiding it. All for the sake of intimidation and saving face among his admirers, who were all used to his behavior by then or they wound up dead.
Instead of blowing up, doing something rash like striking out at her, he just wiped off the spit with his sleeve, eyes never straying from hers. He wasn’t young and brash anymore, he could do this sort of thing. He turned his back to her, took a few steps away, and sparing a glance for her fallen partner's still bleeding body.
"Newbury."
I knew what was coming when he called my name so casually. I could feel my body tense, automatically wanting to reject it. No.
He walked up to me, handing the gun to me, butt first. I took it slowly, not wanting to but not having much of a choice.
"Newbury, kill her."
He said the words blandly, almost casually. It almost sounded like a command to his dog. Down boy, roll over, speak; kill. Jimmy, the idiot, whooped behind his back. But I wasn’t anybody's dog. He could have just as easily killed her himself or asked Jacque to do it. Hell, even Jimmy, the one who's reputation got maligned. I had an insane moment where I wondered if he'd overheard me when I called his son a little shit that should have stayed in prison.
I met the officer’s eyes, Miss Foley. I was surprised when she didn’t look away immediately, focusing more on my eyes than my hands holding the gun. In those eyes, I could see fear. But besides that, there was a spark there, the spark of life.
That pretty sparkle in her eyes, one that would never appear in her partner's eyes again, because there was nothing left of him but the body. I wondered what it was that made me hesitate; was it that sparkle in her eyes, or was it my conscience not wanting to see it snuffed out, another life, this one still so innocent, gone because of the work of my hands.
This is just a job. You're getting paid to follow orders, so just do it. You've done it before. Plenty of times before. I raised the gun in my hand, aimed right at her head. I cocked it and saw her jump slightly at the sharp sound. She tried to make herself still, even though I still noticed the fine tremor along her body. She was exerting a lot of effort not to show she was scared. Most people I stared down a gun at would have been crying by now, or pissing themselves, the few who did get to see me coming.
She was either incredibly brave, or incredibly stupid.
"C'mon, you idiot!" I twitched in annoyance at Jimmy's grating voice. "What are you waiting for? She's right in front of you so stop stalling and just take the fucking shot!"
A thread of excitement was woven under his voice like he wanted to see it happen. I didn’t know if it was a thirst for blood, or thirst to see someone who humiliated him so publicly put down like a dog.
Still, I hesitated with my finger on the trigger, my eyes meeting hers. They were glossed over with tears, and I was impressed by the tight reign of control she held on herself not to let them fall.
"Newbury."
My head tilted slightly, at the call coming from Eric. His voice was lower, threaded with silent anger that I was sure only I heard.
"Newbury, I asked you to kill her. Stop stalling and do as you're told, or I am going to take that gun from you, put it to your head, pull the trigger, and then do your job for you.
I felt an eyebrow rise in disbelief. Though I couldn’t tell what expression was suddenly on my face, the cop was looking a little less afraid, and a lot more confused.
Was this fat ass threatening me? He paid for my contract, but he was yet to pay me after the last renewal. I usually did as he asked, but he hadn't been there to see me hesitate the few times I had. He may have been a big bad mobster that wasn’t new to killing, but my kill count had probably hit three digits already, as well he knew since a good portion had been on his orders.
And the bastard had the balls to threaten me with a gun that I held in my hand like I would just hand it over so he could shoot me with it.
Now that, that just pissed me off. I may have been having a few pangs of conscience, but I wasn’t suddenly suicidal.
The cop's eyes, still holding mine, widened just a little. I wondered if she had seen the hardening of my eyes, and guessed rightly that it was because of anger. But she wasn’t scared now, at least I didn’t think she was. Could she read my mind, see what I was going to do? Because her slightly wide eyes slid from me to Eric.
I took the cue from her looking away from me, in case someone else wised up too quickly. Eric was close, too close for me to just swing the gun at him and shoot before I gave myself away and someone jumped me. Plenty of the revelers he'd brought with him were just ornaments to stand in place, but I knew plenty of his personal bodyguards were mingled in with the crowd.
Instead of aiming at him with the gun, I aimed for his head with my arm as I swung it around, moving too quickly, going by surprise. I managed to hit him on the side of the head with the butt of the gun, and he stumbled back, but he didn’t fall.
I saw motion in the corner of my eyes and I moved back a step to avoid a hit f
rom Jacque. I shifted my hold on the gun because I didn’t mean to take a shot at anyone. I didn’t know how many bullets were in it, it was heavy enough to make me think it had been full before Eric took his shot. I would need every one remaining to get out of there.
I felt a presence at my back once I dealt with Jacque, and I whirled around, surprised to see the woman taking down Jimmy.
I hadn't meant to help her, but I was doing it anyway, and she was covering my back for me. I tried to remember when the last time someone did that for me was.
Our eyes met for a second, but then there was a shot, and I watched her go down.
Dammit! Focus!
I wanted to run to her and check if she was okay. But I was surrounded by hostile people, clearly some of them with guns. Not that it was a problem for me. I knew how to fight my way out of a gunfight. The lighting was dim, to begin with, and though the room wasn’t crowded, I didn't need that many people in it, just enough of them to be a distraction.
I used the people starting to panic around me as human shields to keep away from the guards. I didn’t think they'd have a problem shooting recklessly if their boss ordered them to, so I had to work fast before Eric regained himself enough to give the order. I reached the table where Eric and his guests had been sitting, grabbing a bottle.
It was the expensive crap, but I didn’t like drinking anyway. Someone bypassed the crowd and got close to me, and I knocked him over the head with the heavy glass. I swung it around like a club as more of them came at me, adding in a shove or a kick, and I was surprised it took a while for the bottle to break. I tossed it aside when it did, I could have stabbed them with it, but there were around five of them, though a couple, one of them the one the glass broke on, were already knocked out.
I whirled around after putting the rest of them down. I didn’t know if there were more, but I wasn’t going to wait around to find out. I looked back to the girl, frantic, but she was, surprisingly, not dead. I felt my chest squeeze when I saw her getting to her knees, wincing as she touched a spot on her abdomen to the left of her stomach. Was that where she was shot? But then how was she…
It took me a moment to get it, but I wasn’t an idiot. She must have had a vest under there. Nothing else would explain her moving from a kidney shot.
I glanced around, decided we might as well make the getaway before someone got beyond the panicking stage long enough to realize we were running. I strode toward her, shoving other people aside. I saw her look up and her eyes meet mine in pained surprise. I didn't stop, just grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to her feet, then pulled her behind me.
More shots rang out, accompanied by a few screams, and it made me walk a little faster. Her feet dragged a little, but I could tell she was doing her best to keep up. But then, I felt pain shoot up my thigh, and I stumbled, but only for a bit. I could tell, without looking down, that I had been pegged, on the fleshier part of my thigh. It burned with every tug as I moved, but I couldn’t let it slow me down, even as I felt the blood trickle out of the wound.
We made it out of the VIP lounge, and the idiots on the ground floor seemed to have wised up that something was seriously wrong. The chaos was even worse than upstairs, and I might have thrown a few people to the ground and trampled on them, but it was their fault for not getting out of the way quicker. There was a clear view of us from the balcony, and I thought I heard shouts from there, followed by the sound of more shots that made the screams and stomping feet even louder.
I ignored them, my eyes trained on the exit.
Saving Me
Lara
We just barely made it out of the club.
The crush of the rushing, panicking crowd pushed us toward the door, even as a lot of them blocked the way. Newbury, the man that Eric Randolph would have had kill me, didn’t even slow down, just pushing them roughly out of the way. No one thought to protest at the abuse this time, too panicked to care about anything besides getting away.
I was still surprised he'd grabbed me when I was down instead of just leaving me there. Good thing the person who aimed at me had no idea I had a vest on underneath. He could have aimed for my head, or lower, and I would have been dead or dying in all that sudden chaos, lying only a few feet away from Gabe's body.
I felt the bile rise in my throat as my stomach rolled, but I swallowed it down, pushing back the urge to vomit. I didn’t have such luxury just yet.
Newbury dragged us over to a car. He released my hand, but the momentum made me slam up against it. He didn’t even spare me a glance, just reached into a pocket and pulled out a small pocket knife. He jammed it in the car lock, forcing it in, and turned. I didn’t think it would work, I'd never seen that trick done before at least, but when he pulled it out and tugged on the handle, the door opened. He reached for me as he glanced behind us, shoving me towards the door.
"Get in, crawl over to the other side."
My body trembled at the cold command, even as I did what he said. As if I didn’t know this man was dangerous already, just the sound of his voice, so cold and clinical, made me want to cower. I slid over the console into the passenger seat, and he followed me. I wondered if he was going to hotwire it, but he just reached for the ignition. When I saw his hand turn, I realized in disbelief that there was a key there. I must have given my surprise away. He glanced at me, eyes dark and unreadable.
"It's Jimmy's. He's the only idiot I know that always forgets his keys in the ignition."
He glanced behind the car, to see if the way was clear so he could pull the car out of the lot. I glanced around, my eyes freezing on a figure just spilling out the door of the club, several more behind him.
It was the other guy, the maniac one, and probably a bunch of bodyguards. I saw him aim at a civilian that pushed him aside to cut in front of him, and I made a strangled sound as he shot her down without blinking. Then the car was moving, and he was looking our way. He shouted something at the other guys, and three of them took off on a different side of the lot while he and one other guy ran straight for us.
But then we were peeling out of the parking lot, the car swerving as he tried not to hit the panicked civilians. I was smacked against the door before I remembered I needed to put on my seatbelt. I didn’t think I could, though. My body didn’t feel like my own, even though I could feel the ache in my abdomen where I must have taken the shot. But shock made my limbs heavy, made a fine tremble work its way through my body.
Then there was the sound of a car horn from behind us, pressed down several times. He glanced at the rearview mirror, but I turned around in the seat to look out the back window.
I could hear the man sitting beside me curse. He must have seen it, too. The maniac was in the lead car, a couple more following behind him, and speeding to catch up to us. Then I heard a shot ring out, and I was slammed against the door again as Newbury swerved the car. I could feel my heartbeat pick up because they weren’t just chasing, they were shooting at us.
Crap! What do I do?
I couldn’t think of much beyond the panic, couldn’t think of much besides panicking. I should have been better than this. I hadn't been long out in the field, but I had never been this weak. Still, I felt unhinged. He made another swerve as a couple more shots rang out, and I cried out this time, scrambling for the seat belt to secure myself to the seat, but the car was unsteady for a while.
"Hold the wheel!"
I heard the call come from Newbury, the first time I had heard him speak. His deep, low voice distracted me for a moment, then I felt my eyes widen as I registered his words.
"What?!"
I thought I must have heard him wrong, but then he shouted them at me again.
I jumped to do it as he released the wheel, opening the window all the way, and pushing his upper body out, twisting his body. Even then, to shoot well and keep his foot on the gas, he had to use his left hand.
But there was no hesitation. I couldn’t mark his precision myself, but I heard him fire t
wo clean shots, and I heard a loud squealing from the car behind us, and it fell back. He slid back in, but I was too terrified to just let go of the wheel. I jumped a little when his hand touched mine, and our eyes met quickly. I released the wheel, his hands smoothly replacing mine.
"We lost him." The words were cool and precise as if the past few seconds hadn't just happened.
I couldn’t help being impressed with this guy. The kind of crap he just did… it was movie awesome kind of shit, stuff I knew wasn’t particularly easy—or particularly safe—without all the props.
And whoever he was, he had helped me. For a guy that seemed so dangerous, he was being weirdly gentle with me.
It was… kind of touching.
Don’t be an idiot Lara. Not only is this guy dangerous, I am sure he's a criminal—you know, one of those you should be arresting, as a cop?
Except I couldn’t think of that just then. I'd start to think about Gabe, and I would break down. Because I technically caused his death.
Bandaid
Clay
I pulled the car to a stop. My target was the building across the street.
I picked this specific building, because a few service shops were open there, even this time of night. One of those service shops happened to be a little pharmacy/clinic, with an open doctor's office, mostly for consultations. It was independent of a hospital, which is why I chose it.
I turned to the woman to find her sitting sideways in the seat, her back to the door, watching me. She was still, and it was a bit dark, so I couldn’t see much. Was she still scared? I couldn’t honestly tell her not to be. I didn’t plan to harm her, but it wasn’t like either of us were in the clear.
I could have found a place for us to stay, it would be simple to walk into a random pharmacy and purchase all I would need to bandage myself up. The bullet was lodged in the fleshier part of my thigh but thankfully hadn't hit an artery. The blood had at least slowed if not stopped. I could have taken care of it, I had before.
His Betrayal: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Omerta Series Book 5) Page 3
