Chapter 6 #3
Bohnes is beside me, straddling a guy and wrestling over a revolver.
I knock a hard punch to my attacker’s chin and then plunge the blade into the front of his neck.
It goes in so easily. No wonder Kellin was worried about getting a shave here.
Jesus Christ. I release my makeshift weapon, turning to help Bohnes.
Too late.
The man underneath Kellin is in his death throes, a blade protruding from his eye. Bohnes turns his icy gaze to me and smiles tightly. Behind him, I see two more dead bodies. Ten total. We just had an entire group of thugs break in here and we’re the ones still standing.
The power I mentioned before, it’s so fucking real. Heady, it’s heady. I’m sick with it.
Blood is everywhere, splashed across the walls, dripping down the mirrors. Jack is still smoking. The old man folds the newspaper and sets it on the chair beside him, picking the kitten up and stroking it with wrinkled hands until it calms down. The dog never even woke up from its nap.
I realize belatedly that not one of us shouted or made much noise at all.
I didn’t use the gun I had on me and neither did Alexei or Bohnes.
We know Ash likes the sword. He flicks some gore off the end of it with an annoyed sigh, a streak of blood on his right cheek.
I’m dressed liberally in red. Wet with it.
Bohnes lifts up his arm, his too-long white sweatshirt sleeve covering some of his fingers. He curves the three I can see, topped with black nails and dripping blood.
I open the door at the back of the room, catching a hint of Scarlett’s laughter. Good. The trouble was only on our half of the building.
“Hey, babe,” I call out, unwilling to walk bloody footprints outside of this room.
The cleanup is going to be shitty enough as it is.
I’ve learned pretty quick that dealing with corpses sucks.
No wonder Bohnes has so much money. Being an undertaker is a rough business. “Can you come here for a second?”
“I see that regular diagnostic testing is in our future,” Alexei murmurs, tossing his gloves on the floor with a splash of red and replacing them with fresh ones from his pocket.
He’s the only one of us not drenched in blood.
“A single test no longer seems sufficient. Monthly, perhaps? Blood-borne pathogens are a real concern.”
Scarlett appears in the salon’s doorway, her red heels edging a puddle of spreading blood. She lifts a brow at the carnage.
And then she sees my haircut.
She sees it and her breath catches. Our eyes find one another through the spill of red.
“Dude, nice cut,” she says to me, a little flush in her cheeks. And then she addresses the mass murder in the room. Scarlett narrows her eyes and slices them straight through the four of us. “How did you do this without making a single sound?”
“Didn’t want to interrupt your manicure.” I lift a brow and then turn to Bohnes. “Best way to get rid of all these bodies?” My eyes flick to Jack. Best way to get rid of witnesses?
“Crap. Uncle Burt is not going to like this.” Scarlett gestures at the scene with frustration. “We squared-up with the family yesterday and already we’ve had two incidents? You’re right, Alexei: we don’t just look bad, we look weak.”
“This’ll be Chet’s work.” Ash toes one of the corpses with his ruined sneaker “Big, bold shows of violence are his favorite.”
Scarlett waltzes into the room, nice and slow, pausing purposely in front of me.
“You need somethin’, sweetheart?” I ask, wishing I could put my hand on the side of her neck and kiss her.
It’s a never-ending want. It’s near constant.
I don’t though. I know better how bad this really is.
I feel like I did when I murdered that police officer: like my life was over. I’m already wanted by the law.
Scarlett is right. I don’t want to live like this forever.
“You’re lookin’ fresh, Adrian.” She blows me a coquettish kiss, batting her long lashes.
There’s a moment between us there, even with all the blood and the bodies.
This is what it’s like to really want somebody.
Scarlett’s phone rings and she sighs, tugging it free and giving it an unpleasant look.
“Please answer it.” Alexei puts his fingers to his forehead, frustrated. “Ignoring their calls is a surefire way to end up dead.”
With a sigh and another longing look sent my direction, Scarlett answers. Bohnes comes up behind her like a shadow while Ash drags the sword over, his eyes a little too wide and a tad too twitchy. He’s good at this killing shit, but he really fucking hates it.
The kitten no longer wants anything to do with him.
“Burt,” Scarlett says by way of greeting, the phone now pressed against her ear and held in a not-yet manicured hand. We haven’t been here long enough for Scar to finish her beauty shit. “What? Who said we were having problems? Nah, we’re just chillin’ at the barbershop, friend.”
A long, tense pause follows before Scarlett’s lips press into a tight line.
While she’s occupied with the call, I end up finding Bohnes’ gaze in the mess. Ash’s next. Alexei’s. The four of us communicate without words. Body language and facial expressions are enough.
Good work, boys.
That feeling of power? It ricochets through my bones and straight into my heart and soul.