Page 6

CHAPTER SIX

ST. CLARE

I run. Hard. Ignoring that I’m shirtless and bleeding. Ignoring the way people stop and stare and one woman calls out Are you okay? as I bolt past her. My heart is hammering so fast I feel like I’m about to vomit it up, and I’m pretty fucking sure that’s not a good thing when you’re trying to stop the rapid bleeding.

I need to get to Saint Clare’s. To Lars. Until then, I can’t stop in case this is some sick game. Nearly kill me, set me free, then hunt me down like prey.

My ear is fucking burning , and I don’t know if the bleeding has stopped, but I’m woozy from the adrenaline flooding through me. The through road behind my building comes into view, but I don’t feel any better running down it. It’s as empty as the alleyway was, and every second that passes, I expect to be shot in the back.

I can barely process what happened; my brain is too full of run, run faster , and that’s what I do.

The courtyard gives me an illusion of safety, and I think I take my first breath once I get back inside. I don’t stop running though, just fly along the hall, then sling myself up the stairs two at a time.

Even my office door can’t bring me relief, and my hand is trembling and sticky with blood as I try to get the door unlocked. It finally clicks open, and I stumble inside, then slam it, lock it, and the relief hits all at once. I stagger toward my desk, and the last of my energy leaves me as I sag to the floor, leaning back against the wall.

What. The fuck. Just happened?

I pull out my phone and quickly text Lars to get his ass here now. He’s going to be pissed I went alone, but I doubt it will come close to how pissed I am about being shot.

And then … everything that happened afterward.

I close my eyes, and the masked man flashes in front of my face. He was … that was … I don’t even know what to make of it.

Watching him gesture like a madman with that gun in his hand was fucking terrifying, but …

Well, it’s the “but” that has me thrown. Because I’m sure he helped me at the end there. I reach up to touch the shirt he’s tied tightly around my head, remembering the concentration on his face. Those huge brown eyes that looked better suited to a dog than a person.

I open the messages to Lars and quickly add:

Bring painkillers .

Now that the rush is slowing down, the pain is coming in hot. It’s less like a burning sensation and more like a whole head explosion with the way the migraine is building. He said he only hit my ear, but did he? Am I actually dying and don’t fucking know it?

I could grab my phone and check, but I’m sort of terrified by what I’ll find.

The office door flies open, and Lars rushes in. His eyes cast over me before scanning the room, hand on his gun.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Not sure, actually.”

“Were you attacked? Are they still here?”

I give him a bemused smile. “Went for a little walk. Got a little shot. Do you have the painkillers?”

He releases his gun to pull them from his pocket, eyes still wild with concern. “Reilly, I?—”

“Let me take these. Then we can talk. Drugs first.” I throw two pills into my mouth and swallow them dry. The discomfort ranks low on my list for tonight, and I know Lars is dying for information, but I need a second. Need some of the pain to go away so I can fucking think right.

“First,” I mutter, reaching to untie my makeshift bandage, “I need you to take a look. He said he got my ear, but with how much it hurts, I wouldn’t be surprised to find there’s a giant hole in my head.” I grit my teeth as I remove the shirt. Peeling it away from my ear feels like a thousand tiny tears, and I’m hoping since it’s so stuck to the site that the bleeding has stopped, but I have no clue what’s happening up there.

“Shit …” Lars mutters. “What happened?”

“Just tell me if I’m going to die or not.”

“Ah … no. No dying.”

“Right. Then how bad is it? On a scale of You’re being a Dramatic Asshole to Probably Need a Hospital ?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“You had an ear at one point, right?”

My eyes screw closed because that’s definitely not what I wanted to hear. “It’s gone?”

“Maybe, like, fifty percent? Hard to tell.”

“Shit.”

“You definitely need a hospital.”

I push to my feet and make my way over to the wet bar, where I pour myself out a glass of scotch. I’m itching to take a sip, but trying to drink anything right now makes my stomach turn. Everything feels so unsettled. I’m torn between whether to pace or drop to the floor. To punch something or curl up into the fetal position.

All I know is that I can’t go to a hospital. First, there’s no way my insurance will cover a bullet hole. Second, the police will definitely be called, which folds into third, the masked man.

His pinky swear.

“All I need,” he said, expressive eyes pinning my gaze, “is for you to promise you’ll go away. If you disappear, no one will know that I didn’t follow through, and then if they think you’re dead, no one else will come for you. Get it?”

“You want me to fake my own death.”

That threw him for a second. “Not in the leave blood trails or a suicide note way or whatever. But leave the city. Disappear. Take your family or whoever with you, and try not to kick any puppies on the way.”

“What do you get out of it?”

“A payday I really fucking need.” He held up his little finger between us. “Do we have a deal?”

I’m still not sure I believe him. “Fine,” I’d snapped. “But I’m not doing … that.”

He bounced his gloved pinky between us. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go unless you seal the contract.”

So I did it. Wrapped my little finger around his and watched the way those curious eyes crinkled at the corners, over the top of his unhinged mask. Under his hood, I’m sure I made out dark hair, but who knows if it was real or a wig or a trick of the shadows around us.

“Reilly?” Lars pulls me from my head as he takes my arm and turns me to face him. “I’m serious. We need to get that looked at.”

“Do we have a first aid kit here?”

“Dude, no. Come on. You were shot . We need the hospital, and we need to go to the police. Maybe if they see all this, they’ll start to take things with Colin seriously.”

And maybe they’ll catch the ridiculous man with the gun and terrible aim, or maybe they won’t. One of those things is more likely, and when they don’t catch him, he’ll come back to finish the job.

“No.”

“What do you mean no ?”

“No, we can’t go to the hospital. Or the police.”

“That’s going to get infected.”

“Then you better clean it really fucking well.” It’s risk infection or a redo of tonight, and I know which one I’d prefer.

He’s silent as he studies my face. “What the fuck happened?”

Now that the pain has started to trickle away, I take a sip of my drink and walk over to collapse in one of the chairs by my desk. I kick out the other one, and Lars takes it.

“Is this the kind of story you’re going to tell me and I’m going to wish you didn’t?”

“Probably.”

He takes a long breath. “Okay. I’m ready.”

I fill him in on everything. Starting with the anger that drove me to Rev in the first place and ending with my very close brush with death and an elementary school promise.

“So he tried to kill you?” Lars asks, looking as confused as I am.

“Obviously.”

“And then he helped you and promised to let you go if you keep quiet?”

“Exactly.”

Lars huffs, leaning back in his chair and extending his long legs out in front of himself. “You’re a fucking idiot for going there alone.”

“You weren’t here.”

“I was … fuck. I was stuck in traffic.” He’s barely holding his frustration together. “You should have called me. You almost fucking died .”

“But I didn’t.”

“But you might have.”

“And yet, here I am.”

Lars crosses his arms. “This sounds fishy.”

“Wouldn’t know. I’m deaf now.”

He rolls his eyes and for the first time almost looks amused. I’m not totally joking, though, because there’s a soft ringing when things are silent. “It’s a cosmetic … setback. You can still fucking hear.”

“Maybe, but not with all this blood in my ear.” I tilt my head to the side like I’m trying to clear out the block.

“I’ll get the first aid kit and try to …” He gestures at my ear. “I think you might need more scotch.”

“Noted. ”

“And …” Lars studies my face again. “You’re going to do it? Hide out?”

“I don’t think I have a choice.”

“But you also don’t have the luxury of disappearing. Colin beat you to it.”

That makes me straighten, hit with an idea. “Wait. Do you think this guy got to Colin first?”

“You think he’s the reason Colin’s missing?”

My heart is beating a little faster. “It’s not exactly a stretch? He showed up to kill me and told me to disappear. If someone put a hit out on me, wouldn’t they have done the same to my brother? And if it was the same guy …”

“Colin could be dead, or he could have been issued the same ultimatum you were.”

He’s right. “Schrodinger’s Colin.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to joke about your missing brother after being shot.”

“How many people do you know with a missing brother who’ve been shot to fact-check that?”

He thinks for a moment. “Just you.”

“Cool. Then it’s allowed.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking we need to find this fucking guy and hope he gave Colin the second option.”

Lars’s knees bounce beneath where his elbows are resting on them. “That doesn’t sound like you’re planning to disappear.”

“Nope.” Maybe I’m just asking for the guy to show up and kill me, but getting him alone again is sort of what I need. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to dance down the fucking street and advertise that I evaded a hitman, now am I? I can keep a low profile while I look out for this guy. It’s no issue.

“Fine,” Lars says. “But from now on, you don’t go anywhere without me. Got it?”

He really thinks he needs to threaten me? I point to my ear. “There is no fucking way I’m letting you leave my side.”