Page 1 of His To Erase

The phone vibrates against the table, an unwelcome intrusion. I glance at the screen, my jaw locking the second I see the name. No way I’m answering that.

I let it ring out, watching as the screen goes dark. A second later, it lights up again—this time with a text.

Stop ignoring me. Pick up.

My fingers flex, a slow inhale filling my lungs. The phone buzzes again, and this time I answer. “You’ve got ten seconds.”

The voice on the other end is a ghost from a past I buried. “We need you for one last job.”

I exhale slowly, forcing control into every muscle. “I’m retired. You already told me the last three were my last ones.”

“I know,” his tone edged with something I don’t like. “But you’re going to want this one. It’s Calissi.”

The air shifts. My grip tightens around the phone, but I don’t move.

“He’s in Colorado,” he continues. “Figured you’d want to settle the score.”

Calissi. The unfinished job. The mistake I never should have made.

I lean back, trying to steady my pulse. I should say no. A bigger man would let it go. Instead, I hear myself say, “I’ll think about it.” Then I hang up.

The silence in the room is suffocating. My pulse is slow and even, but my mind is already there.

Calissi’s on his knees. Sweat drips from his temple, mixing with the blood running down his face, but the bastard still smiles. Like he’s not seconds away from dying. Like he knows something I don’t.

I tighten my grip on the gun, aiming between his eyes. I have him. Finally. After months of tracking, weeks of picking off his men one by one, of circling each other in the dark like animals. Every single step has led me here. To this.

The barrel of my gun is pressed to his skull.

He spits blood onto the warehouse floor, grinning like a man who still thinks he’s got the upper hand like this is all a big joke. Like he’s untouchable.

"You look like shit, Stevie." His voice is all smug amusement, despite the split lip, and the bruises already forming on his face. "What, been losing sleep over me?"

I cock the gun with a steady grip. "Not anymore."

He chuckles. "You really think this is how it ends?"

"Yeah." I flick the safety off. "I do."

A muffled cry cuts through the space and I freeze.

No.

I turn, slowly. Please, no.

Why is she here?

One of his men has her in a chokehold, dragging her forward, her eyes are wide and filled with something I’ve never seen on her face before—fear. Her wrists are bound, and her mouth is taped. Her body jerks as she struggles, but it’s useless.

Calissi sighs, tilting his head like this is some minor inconvenience. "Had a feeling you’d come sniffing around eventually. Figured I should keep a little insurance, just in case."

My heart pounds like a war drum.

"You fucking touch her," I warn, keeping my voice low, "and I will—"

He just laughs.

"You’ll what?" His voice drips in mockery. "Shoot me? Please. Let’s be real, I own this town." His eyes flick to her. "But, hey, I’m a reasonable guy. Drop the gun, and she walks."

I know it’s a lie.

I know it down to my goddamn bones. But she’s staring at me, silently pleading, and my hands feel like iron around the gun.

I drop it.

The second it hits the ground, he moves.

My eyes are on her, so I don’t see his guy come up behind me. A fist slams into my ribs, hard and unrelenting.

Another cracks across my jaw, snapping my head to the side. Pain detonates, and stars burst behind my eyes.

I barely get my footing before he’s right in front of me. His knee drives into my gut and I double over. A boot slams into my ribs, and my body hits the ground.

The taste of blood floods my mouth as he crouches next to me, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking my head back, forcing me to look at him. His breath is hot against my face, his smirk dripping with amusement. I know there’s nothing I can do to fight back, or he’ll kill her.

"You stupid, stupid motherfucker." He clicks his tongue, feigning disappointment. "Dropped your gun over her? Really? Thought you were smarter than that."

I don’t answer. I can’t. My lungs are barely able to drag in air. He sighs like this is all so tedious.

"And here I thought you’d be a challenge."

Then I hear a gunshot, and I feel the next one fired off as white-hot agony tears through me as my body seizes.

Above me, he shakes his head, wiping the blood from his mouth. "This could’ve been so much easier," he muses, stepping back. "But hey—I love a good tragedy."

The world is slipping. My pulse is a dull, slow drum, while blood is pooling around me.

I force my head up, jaw tightening against the pain. And then I spit right on his polished shoes.

He stills. For the first time, his smirk twitches. I can see his mask slip for a second. Then he laughs. A deep, smug chuckle, shaking his head like I’m the dumbest son of a bitch he’s ever met.

"You should’ve just shot me when you had the chance," he says, almost disappointed. "Now look at you."

He lifts his boot, walking away.

And then—darkness.