This had been both. In her mind, she wanted justice for her family but in her gut she wanted revenge, and both were measured on the same scale, achievable by the same means. And though she’d finally broken the law, she knew she’d done right.
Novakovic was dead but she felt an uncontrollable urge now to hit him, to spit on him, or to do what Lucas had done, to fire a bullet into him. A part of her wanted to feel what it was like, but more than that, she wanted in some small way to claim this first act of revenge for herself. She felt a mix of shame and excitement at the thought of it, but she wanted his blood on her hands.
Lucas was still holding the gun at his side. She held out her hand and said, ‘Do you mind?’
He seemed puzzled and glanced at the body as if to make sure he was dead. Then he gave her the gun. Holding it in both hands, she aimed at the bloody mess of Novakovic’s head. She closed her eyes as she started to squeeze the trigger, but forced herself to open them again.
The noise and force of the shot still came as a shock, and she didn’t see if she’d hit him. His face didn’t look any different so she turned to Lucas and said, ‘Did I hit him?’ He nodded and reached out to take the gun from her. ‘Thanks. I’m sure it seems sick but . . .’ She felt weak suddenly, like a blood-sugar dive, ambushed in mid-sentence by a shakiness and a swell of emotion. She tried to rally herself, not wanting Lucas to think it had anything to do with seeing Novakovic killed. ‘I had to.’ That was all her voice would allow.
‘Sure.’ He put the gun away and walked out. Once they were sitting in the car, he said, ‘Don’t ever ask me to do that for you again.’
She wasn’t sure why he was unhappy with her. ‘I thought that’s what we came here for. And I didn’t ask you to do it for me. I asked you to do it for my family.’
‘I appreciate that, but don’t ask me again. I’m finished with killing people.’ He started the car and pulled away.
‘But what about when we find the person who . . .’
‘I’ll make an exception, but only the one. This is revenge, not therapy. You need to work something out of your system, join a gym.’
‘Sorry.’ She wasn’t sure why she was apologizing, except that she felt chastened, uncomfortable with the thought that she might have earned his disapproval. She didn’t know what he expected of her, but she was disappointed that she’d fallen short in some way.
Trying to move the conversation on, she said, ‘You were pleased when he told you who’d sent him.’
‘Bruno Brodsky. He’s a fixer, based in Budapest. Some of these people can be slippery but I’ve known Bruno a long time; he’ll tell us what he knows.’
‘So we’re going to Budapest?’
‘There’s no need for you to go. I thought you’d want to see the killer.’ He laughed. ‘And boy, did you want to see him. But there’s no reason for you to see Bruno.’
‘I want to. I mean, I’ll only sit here wondering otherwise. And I wanna hear what he’s got to say because I wanna understand. I need to know everything.’
‘Okay. There’s no reason you shouldn’t come if you want to. I’m warning you, though, don’t even think of asking me to kill Brodsky. He’s a middleman, that’s all, and he’s going to help us find who ordered the hit. You have to respect that.’
‘I will.’
They were back on the road now and she relaxed into her seat. She was strangely content, fulfilled. They were getting somewhere. Lucas seemed to be having doubts, maybe out of some desire to shield her. She was certain he’d come around, though. He had to, because she was determined these people would pay for what they’d done, all of them, and she could see no reason to make an exception for Bruno Brodsky or anybody else.
Chapter Fourteen
Lucas sat in the limousine. Ella’s flight from London had landed so he didn’t expect her to be long. He’d considered going to see Bruno before Ella arrived but had stopped himself. The way she’d acted with Novakovic had thrown him but that was no reason to start cutting her out of the loop.
He’d tried to imagine himself in her position. She’d led a sheltered life, only to see her security violated, so maybe she deserved a little hunger for revenge. And it had been born out of love, a love for her parents and brother that he couldn’t begin to comprehend.
He could think of only two people in the world he’d be that desperate to avenge and yet one of them couldn’t bear to look at him and the other barely knew he existed. That didn’t leave him in much of a position to judge Ella for her bitterness.
The door opened and she got into the back seat next to him, smiling, saying hello, a few words about the flight. She was wearing a vaguely oriental-looking trouser suit, still casual but smarter than he was used to seeing her.
They chatted on their way into Budapest, about her flight, about the city, but all she wanted was to see Bruno. When they got to the hotel, she said, ‘I’ll just take a quick shower and get rid of my bags. Half an hour?’