Page 62 of With A Little Luck
Although Keir and I had a moment of mutual distaste outside of his office when Quincy and Ridge bonded, I can appreciate him as a partner.
It’s time Costa Maloney became an issue of the past.
The three faces of the men who approach with Costa are familiar. They’re the ones I flagged as being in town, which is a solid reminder that I’m good at what I do.
“I told you to come alone,” Costa says as he comes to a stop five feet away.
“I work alone.” I shove my glasses up, gesturing to Keir as he comes around the front of the vehicle. “However, I don’t conduct face-to-face transactions without backup. You felt the need to come four deep to a hand off. I brought one associate.”
“We’ve got a vehicle approaching,” Calder says through my earpiece. “One SUV incoming with… One, two, three…could be more guys. It’s impossible to tell with how dark the windows are.”
“I’ll check it out,” Ridge says.
“Fuck no,” Easton growls in response. “I’m circling the building to appraise the threat.”
“He’s already climbing out of the van,” Calder says, and we can hear evidence of that over the feed.
Jesus Christ.
Ridge is still healing.
That pain in the ass.
Now I need to conduct this business quickly so I can get out there and ensure he doesn’t die when I promised Quincy I would keep him alive.
“All right, let me see it.” Costa rocks on his heels, shoving his hands into his pockets. “The transfer won’t proceed until I give my accountant the go-ahead.”
“The package,” I say to Keir, holding out a hand.
It’s more like a small plastic bin with a box and wrapping inside.
It does contain a head.
That head just belongs to David.
It seemed fitting to serve Costa the severed head of one of his minions, but I’m grateful that I wasn’t the one who handled the beheading. It’s messy and gruesome, no matter what steps you take to try to prevent a grisly outcome.
“I swear to fucking Christ, I’m going to shank you myself if you step around that goddamn wall before I’m at your side,” Easton hisses through my earpiece. “Leo, if you can provide us with coverage from your position, I wouldn’t turn it down.”
It’s quite difficult to keep my face placid, but Keir steps forward, shoving the container at me.
“It would require a one-eighty turn, and I’m in Costa’s line of sight, but there is a window. I can make it work if you give me thirty seconds,” Leo whispers.
Well, they clearly need the backup more than we do. Which means I need to have Costa and his associates firmly focused on me so Leo can swap his location without being noticed.
I stride across the concrete, handing the box off to Costa. His team gets twitchy, but I don’t retreat. “Open it. Verify and approve it. I’ve already been in town for an additional day simply waiting for you. I have other assignments that require my attention.”
More arguing comes over the comms feed, but I’m hyperfocused on watching Costa as I pop the buttons on my suit coat.
He tilts his head down, undoes the clasp on the bin, and reaches inside.
“Say hello to David ,” I murmur, grabbing the knife under my left shoulder.
David is the code word for the action to happen.
The sound of bullets whizzing through the air is an excellent backdrop as Costa pulls David’s head free of the box.
His face betrays his confusion for a half second before I slide the blade over his throat and bury it into his heart.
Pulling my foot up, I connect with his knee and shove him backward. The blade falls free, and I pivot to assess the situation, but the three men he brought with him are down.
Well.
Now I’m just holding a bloody knife. I bend down and wipe the blade off on Costa’s thigh. My glove must have some splatter, but the black material hides it well.
If this were any normal kill, I would leave a King of Hearts playing card with his body and take a picture as confirmation to supply as proof the job had been completed.
The playing card became my calling card at my mentor’s goading after missing the heart on my first real contract.
Even from the grave, he continued to taunt me about my greatest failure.
It’s been many years since then. If nothing else, it became a convenient way for others to confirm one of my kills.
“All five on the exterior are down,” Leo says through the earpiece.
“Costa and his three guests are too,” Keir says. I can hear it both in person and as an echo through my earpiece.
“You guys didn’t even need me,” Shaw says, chuckling. “One of my bullets hit, but Keir was on it .” The last few words ring with more of his slight country accent.
“Is Ridge okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, but East is currently ripping him a new asshole for breaking protocol,” Calder says, distractedly. I exhale in pure relief. “All right, everyone rally at the van. The cleanup crew is ten minutes out.”
“Are we bringing the car or leaving it?” I ask Keir.
“I think we’re riding out with the others in the van, but Easton can tell us once he’s no longer verbally eviscerating your packmate,” Keir says, ripping off his mask.
I nod.
Whatever gets us out of here the fastest is the method I would like to take. I have an omega to snuggle with.
Our post-op briefing makes it clear the second vehicle that joined us after my meeting with Costa began was filled with one of the other teams that took the higher bounty.
Luckily, they weren’t expecting a sniper, Easton, and Ridge to pick them off while they were still in the process of exiting the vehicle.
By the time we decontaminate and make it home, Quincy and Hartley are asleep. Ridge and I break off for separate showers, but I help him bandage his shoulder before we fight to see who can make it to the bed the fastest.
I’m just a second quicker, so I take Quincy’s front.
Ridge can snuggle with Hartley.
“You’re home. Thank God.” Our little omega’s eyes pop open as soon as I’m situated. “Where’s Ridge? Did you handle the problem?”
“We did,” I assure her, brushing her hair back from her face.
“Right here, Mama.” Ridge stretches an arm over Hartley and cradles her stomach. “We’re free. Get some rest.”
“Glad you’re both alive,” Hartley mumbles. “Sleep now. Tell us what happened in the morning.”