“You’re my kind of girl. Elizabeth, right?”
“It’s whatever you want it to be; I’m not here to make friends.”
“I like you,” he says before taking his aim off of me and swinging his arm around to Matt.
“You’re a fucking idiot!” he scolds and then pulls the trigger, sending a bullet straight into Matt’s leg, collapsing him down to the ground in an instant. Marco doesn’t bat an eye when he holsters his gun and turns back to me while Matt screams in agony.
I watch as Declan picks up Matt’s gun before I look back to Marco and shove my pistol into the waist of my pants. “I give you my word that we have no intention of doing you any wrong. That man right there,” I tell him, nodding my head to Declan. “He’s not too happy that your client has put me in harm’s way. So, let me tell you how this night is going to go. You give me the account number you want me to wire the money into. I suggest it be whatever offshore account you no doubt hold, because I intend on dumping a lot of fucking cash into it. Then we wait. When the money is transferred, my friend holding the gun is going to teach Matt a lesson. You’re more than welcome to watch, but I’ll leave that choice to you. Then I plan on going home and getting some sleep.”
My orders are to the point.
“You’re good,” he compliments.
“I’ve dabbled in enough cons for one life.”
“Elizabeth!” Matt’s voice is terror-stricken. “What the fuck is going on here?”
“Shut the fuck up, dickfuck!” Declan shouts, and when I look at Matt over my shoulder, I tell him with a smile, “Who’s the cunt now?”
“Please, man. Don’t kill me!”
Declan steps closer and presses the muzzle of the gun against Matt’s forehead. “I told you to shut the fuck up.”
Matt continues to flap his pathetic mouth, begging Declan to spare his life, but I turn back to Marco. “Let’s speed this up; I’ve had a long day.”
“My phone is in my pocket,” he tells me so I don’t assume he’s reaching for a weapon.
“I’ll get it.” I trust no one.
I pull it out and hand it to him before retrieving my own phone. I wait as he pulls up the bank account he wants to use for the transfer. He proceeds to provide all the information that I need to conduct the wire, and once the country code and numbers are all entered, we wait for the delivery. It takes about fifteen minutes for Marco’s bank account to update and reflect the deposit.
“Fuck me.” His face grows in satisfaction when he sees the amount of zeros in the transaction.
“Are we done here?”
His eyes meet mine, and he shoves his phone back into his pocket. “Done and forgotten.”
“Marco, come on, man! Don’t leave me here,” Matt begs through the pain of his bloody leg.
“I’m not leaving. Not yet anyways.” Marco backs up, and when I turn over my shoulder to look at him, he straightens out his coat and says, “Can’t be getting my new coat dirty,” with a wink.
When I focus back on Matt, his eyes spiral out of control as he continues to plead. “Come on! I swear to you, I’ll leave you alone, Elizabeth. Don’t shoot me.”
“You threw my life away to keep yours, and now you’re begging me to save you? You’re unsaveable, Matt. You always have been.”
“It’s me, Elizabeth! Come on!” His body tremors in inexorable fear. It coats his face in a layer of sweat.
“The only thing I owe you before you die is a thank you.”
“What the fuck?”
“Thank you for handing me the match the night we burned Carl and Bobbi. It’s the best gift you ever gave me.”
“You fucked up the moment you put her life in danger.” Declan’s voice is guttural, his eyes merciless.
“Don’t do this, man. Plea—”
BANG.
Matt’s blood sprays across the side of my face and clothes as the crack of gunfire echoes through the night. His body collapses as dark blood pours out of the hole in his head. Clumps of his brain litter the gravel surrounding us. Declan stands above his unmoving body, aims the gun down, and ensures his death.
BANG.
BANG.
Behind the ringing in my ears, I hear Marco’s distant voice, “That’s gonna be a bitch to clean up,” followed by stones crunching under his feet and the slam of his car door. The tires of his SUV roll over the rocks of the train yard, and then he’s gone.
Declan remains fixed above Matt’s dead body; he’s a cold-blooded phoenix, no longer the man he once was when I met him in Chicago. He’s the creation of my monstrosity, forever changed as a result of my demented soul. He fell in love with the devil when he fell in love with me.
When his eyes shift to me, I go to him, grab his blood-streaked face, and affirm, “I love you,” before kissing him through the metallic taste of death.
“AT LEAST YOU got to see him. You always said you’d do anything to have him back for just one more second. You got that and more.”
“It still hurts.”