Flipping the gun, Jacob pressed it into my hand. He didn't stop there. Curling his fingers over mine, he made me grasp the pommel. Together, we held the gun as he studied me. “Are you sure you want to carry this burden?” he whispered.
Lifting my chin, I pulled away. He let me go without a fight. “The only burden here is the one I've been carrying for sixteen years.” It was going to end. I was ready for the weight to come off my back, for the guilt over being the only survivor to dissipate.
Kite had told me I'd fail my first time trying to kill this man. He'd been right, I'd fired and missed in my panic. Lars had come close to destroying me out here.
And then they saved me.
They hadn't needed to. They could have let me die. How had they found me, and why had they bothered?
Lars was panting, sitting on the ground and looking grim. He watched me as I stood a foot away, the gun pointed at his skull. “You're a fool for doing this,” he coughed. “Killing me is going to bring the Diani family down on you. The police are in my pocket, too. You're fucked if you pull that trigger.”
My mouth tasted funny, rust flavored. “I don't care. I never cared about dying.”
Lies. Lies and more lies.
Stiffening, I buried the taunting words and stood tall.
“Wait!” he spat, crumbling in the hour of his destruction. “Aren't you going to ask me why I did it? Why I killed your family, burned their business?” His smile was nervous. “Ask me anything, go ahead.” He was stalling for time. It wouldn't help him.
“No. I already know why.” Lars was pale, no longer the big, burly man who'd frightened me. He seemed so small now. Tightening my hand on the trigger, I breathed until I was steady. “Obey or be killed. That was what you told him. You wanted to send a message to everyone who would stand up to you. Now, here's my message.”
The shot wouldn't miss. I was too close to his gleaming skin.
I whispered, “You can't murder my family and live happily ever after.”
The explosion went through my forearms and into my gut. It wasn't the kinetic power of it, though. Pure release, freedom from the ghosts that had haunted me... these tremors came from my soul.
Shivering, I watched my breath make clouds in the cool air. Lars was still, no longer capable of hurting me or anyone else. I should have collapsed, my energy had vanished in that bullet.
Jacob approached first, his hand open, expectant. Looking down at the gun I held, I realized I had the only weapon among us. Kite had found his Ruger on the road, but it was empty. The hatchet couldn't compare to a gun.
If I wanted to, I could shoot them both and escape.
I could secure my life.
“How did you find me?” I asked, not releasing the pistol.
“You stole my Mercedes,” Kite said, his grin brittle. “I have a GPS tracker in it, it goes to my phone. Jacob drove us here.”
Of course. He loved that car, hated anyone else driving it. I should have expected a precaution from thieves.
Shifting, I turned towards Jacob. He was a statue. I wished I could read his mind, know what he was planning. “You found the letter,” I whispered.
His nod was subtle. “Yes. It was where you left it.” His fingers twitched, summoning my attention. This was a standoff; kill them and live, or give the gun up and put my future in their hands.
Hands that had murdered.
Hands that had made me whole.
Closing my eyes, I placed the gun gently into his palm. It was a steel clamp, closing on the weapon and pulling away. “What are you thinking now?” he asked me.
Keeping my eyes closed, I made fists at my hips. I summoned all the strength I had, looked for the piece of me that had been there before these men had transformed my heart.
“I'm thinking... it's done. I did what I wanted to. Lars is dead, and whatever happens now...” Looking up, I stared into Jacob's face and refused to crack. “Whatever happens, I'm ready for it. I told you I wasn't scared of death. I meant it. Do what you want.”
The two hitmen shared a long look. The messages I couldn't see telegraphed through the air.
Not knowing was better for me.
Especially when Kite snapped forward, catching me around the mouth with his palm. This was the move he'd been about to inflict on me way back when, that fateful first night in the Corner Velvet bar.
My scream went no where. Cloth filled my teeth, yanking around to tie in place. I was gagged, they'd been prepared. Was this really happening?
Jacob looked on, placid and unmoving. The last thing I saw was a thick wall of fabric.
They'd blindfolded me for the second time.
Neither of them spoke. Efficient machines, I couldn't tell who was tying my hands behind my back or my ankles together. It wasn't like earlier tonight, back when we'd still pretended this confrontation wasn't waiting for us.
One of them hoisted me; the scent in my nose was clean, minty. It had to be Jacob.
Disoriented, I landed on something hard. I knew it was the trunk of a car when the metal clicked shut heavily above me. They were going to erase me.
I'd told myself I was fine with it.