Chapter Twenty, The Plan
I was counting. Numbers tumbled out of my mouth in a whisper, as if saying them quietly would somehow make this whole thing less terrifying.
My lips were dry, my voice cracking as I tried to focus.
Focus on anything but the fact that Atlas and Gio were either in a psycho’s clutches, or about to be, and I’d been left behind because I was a sucky hitwoman.
“Nine hundred ninety-seven… nine hundred ninety-eight.” Atlas’ knife felt foreign in my hand, like some cruel joke the universe was playing on me.
Me, Heather Motherfucking Kane, stripper turned accidental badass, holding a weapon like I had a clue how to use it.
It was heavy in my hand, the cold steel biting into my sweaty palm as I gripped it tighter.
It wasn’t something I could use without feeling like a fraud, and I didn’t wanna be a fraud. I wanted to be a real badass. A protector. A warrior like Malivore was.
“Nine hundred ninety-nine… one thousand.” The second I was finished counting, I exhaled shakily.
With pursed lips, I looked around. The woods were still.
Too still. The air was thick, the night air settling like a blanket over everything.
The sound of the tires crunching down the gravel road echoed in my ears, even though the cars were long gone by now.
I had heard them disappear, no doubt carrying the two people I loved more than anything in the world, and I hadn’t done a damn thing to stop it.
The panic bubbled up again, threatening to choke me, but I forced it down.
I couldn’t afford to freak out. Not now.
My whole body screamed at me to do something, to run, to cry, to scream at the top of my lungs and rage at the world for being so unfair.
But all that would do was make me more of a target. I couldn’t lose my head now.
I was going to be the damn boss I’d faked being when I kidnapped Gio. Only this time, I would use what he and Atlas had taught me these last few months.
I wouldn’t make mistakes.
“Mali…” I whispered, glancing down. The dog was standing rigid beside me, her ears pricked and nose twitching. Blood stained her muzzle just enough to make me dizzy. She was on high alert, sensing the tension in the air. I wanted to tell her it was okay, but I couldn’t. Because it wasn’t.
Her daddy was missing or dead. Murdered or kidnapped.
I couldn’t stand still any longer. The waiting was killing me, making my skin itch. I had to move. I had to do something. So, without really thinking, I ran. Straight toward the cabin. Back to where the mess had started.
I bolted through the woods, the damp earth crunching, and every twig snap and leaf rustle made my heart leap into my throat. But I kept running. Until my lungs burned again and I felt even sicker.
I had no idea what I was going to do when I got back. For all I knew, the cabin could already be crawling with more of Gio’s dad’s men, waiting to snatch me up too. But I had to take that chance. I couldn’t just stand in the woods like a scared little rabbit, hoping the wolves wouldn’t come for me.
As I neared the cabin, there was nothing waiting for me but a few dead bodies of men in masks. No monsters. No bad guys still breathing.
No Gio or Atlas.
“Shit.” The word slipped out before I could stop it. Almost a yell.
I stood there, staring at the empty road, as if it could give me some kind of answer.
But there was nothing. Just silence. Silence and the cold realization that I was too late.
Too fucking late. Even if I could run fast enough to find the car that had taken them, what was I going to do?
Throw myself at the cars, screaming like a banshee, hoping to take down a bunch of trained mercenaries?
Yeah, great plan. That would definitely work.
It wasn’t like I could use Atlas’ truck either. Not with the guts and blood hanging off the smashed front section.
For a second, I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream until my throat was raw.
I wanted to tear the world apart, piece by piece, until I got them back.
But none of that would help. None of that would bring them home.
So instead, I swallowed the lump in my throat, blinked back the tears threatening to spill over, and gave myself a mental slap.
“Okay, Heather, you dumb slut. Pull it together.” I muttered to myself, clenching my fists at my sides as Mali prowled around me, still on alert. “You’re not useless. You’re not a coward. What did the guys say? What do I do with danger if I’m on my own?”
I forced myself to remember. My brain was scrambled, the panic clawing at the edges of my mind, but I grabbed onto the only thing that made sense right now.
Atlas had told me a hundred times what to do in an emergency.
Gio had repeated it too. If things went to hell, there were two people I had to call, starting with the best one for a job like this.
“Silver,” I muttered, nodding to myself. “Call Silver.”
Atlas had drilled it into my head. Silver was the one person who could fix things. She was just like him. Her brain would work the same way. She would be able to help me do all the ninja shit I hadn’t been trained for.
Then I would call Emilio. Gio said it was dangerous for me to call anyone he knew, but in a dire emergency, then his closest brother was a good bet. Emilio would do what he could to help me, and I could trust him.
That’s what I would do. Silver. Emilio. Then hide and pray to the magic man in the sky that he could make himself real for me, so I could be saved.
I glanced at Malivore, her dark eyes watching me like she was waiting for my next move. The tension in her body mirrored mine. She was ready to act, ready to protect, but I wasn’t sure I knew how to lead. I would try, though. It was all I could do.
“Come on, girl,” I whispered, running toward the cabin.
I kicked the front door open, barely noticing the bang it made as it hit the wall. With a few sharp mental slaps, I ran inside, my eyes scanning the room, looking for any sign of the emergency phone. The one hidden away purely for a situation like this.
“Dammit, Atlas, where’d you put it?” I muttered, pushing things aside in my frantic search.
I opened drawers. Boxes. The damn fridge. I moved blankets and clothes and even the bathroom products. Hurricane Heather ransacked the place for ten solid minutes before my panic lessened, and I remembered where Atlas had stored the phone.
A loose plank in the floor. Right by the window on the back wall, where Gio and I had escaped from.
With only the slightest of effort, I popped out the floorboard, finding what I needed sitting pretty in the dark. With a vicious grin, I snatched the phone up and immediately dialed Silver’s number. My heart pounded in my chest, the sound of my pulse filling my ears as the phone rang.
Please pick up. Please pick up.
On the third ring, Silver answered.
“What can I do for you, little brother?” Her voice was smooth, and for a split second, I felt a sliver of hope.
“It’s not Atlas. It’s Heather.” My voice cracked, betraying the calm I was trying to force.
There was a pause, then Silver’s voice shifted, all business. “Heather, what’s going on?”
I spilled it all in a rush, words tumbling over each other as I tried to explain. My breathing was ragged, my heart still racing. I felt like I was going to hyperventilate, but I kept going. Silver listened; her silence was almost comforting. When I finished, she didn’t waste any time.
“Lock all the doors and windows. Barricade yourself in the bedroom, but leave the window unlocked for an escape route.” She cursed to herself. “I can be there in an hour, maybe a little less.”
Her voice was calm, so calm it almost made me believe everything would be fine. Almost.
“Okay,” I choked out, my hands shaking as I held onto the phone like it was my last lifeline. “I’ll do that.”
“Get a weapon too,” she added, her tone sharp. “And take the dog with you. She’ll keep you safe.”
The line went dead, and I lowered the phone, staring at it as if it could give me answers. Forty-five minutes to an hour. I had to survive that long until Silver got here. It was easy, right? I just had to hide and be quiet and smart.
As I hit dial on the only other saved number, I raced through the cabin, locking the doors and windows as fast as my shaking hands would allow.
Malivore followed close behind me, her presence a small comfort.
She was a good girl. I owed her for the save.
Maybe a massive steak or a new toy. Something that said thanks for murdering a dickhead hitman for me, babe. I appreciate it…
The phone finally clicked as I grabbed myself a bottle of water and ran into the bathroom. My hands were trembling so badly, I could barely hold the phone up.
“Gio?” came the voice on the other end, rough and concerned but sounding so much like Gio that I wanted to cry.
“No, it’s not Gio.” My voice wavered, tears threatening to choke me again.
“It’s Heather. Um, Heaven. Heaven Kane. The stripper.
” I was more than a stripper, dammit. But it seemed easier than saying, ‘I’m the girl who kidnapped your brother, did a shit job at torturing him, then let him go because he was innocent.
But then we decided to stay in the woods together like hermits, avoiding your evil dad, and fucking a Russian hitman together. ’
Stripper seemed more concise than all that.
There was a brief silence, and I could practically hear Emilio’s brain ticking away as he moved somewhere quieter.
I had only met him at work, and each time he seemed terrifying.
He was massive, strong, always ready to murder someone.
And it wasn’t false, like with Reaper. I’d seen firsthand when Emilio put a bullet in someone’s brain.
Yet, for some reason, I felt calm talking to him.
“What’s wrong? What happened, sweetheart?” He murmured, voice soft enough to make me finally cry.
I told him, the words spilling out between sobs. My heart was in my throat, and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. Gio and Atlas were gone, and I had no idea what to do. By the time I finished explaining, my cheeks were wet with tears, and I was a shaking mess.
“Don’t worry,” Emilio’s voice was steady as he spoke to me with the same pleasant tones that Gio did. “I’ll find out what I can from here. Keep this phone on, and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”
I sniffled, trying to hold myself together as I quickly brushed my teeth and slapped myself in the face for real this time.
It didn’t calm me down. My cheek just hurt, and I wanted to cry again. But I pretended to be fine as Emilio finished his talking with an order to hide out, just like Silver had said.
“Okay. I’ll do that.” I promised.
There was a pause on his end, and then he said, “Heather?”
“Yeah?”
“Be brave. Gio always said you were.”
I let out a small, broken laugh. “I’ll do my best.”
We ended the call, and I headed for the bedroom.
I was barricading myself in, just like Silver said, but I wasn’t going to be helpless.
I sat on the bed, clutching Atlas’ knife, my fingers tracing the familiar grooves of the handle.
Malivore sat beside me, her big eyes watching me, waiting for my next move.
“We’re gonna go be hitwomen and get our men back, okay?” I whispered to her, my voice shaky but determined. “We’re gonna have to be the bravest we’ve ever been because this is it now. We’re going to have to fight to win.”
She whined softly, resting her head on my lap.
And as I sat there, surrounded by the sounds of the night, the fear started to melt away, replaced by something else.
Determination.
I wasn’t just going to sit here and cry anymore. I wasn’t going to be helpless. I was going to fight.
For Atlas. For Gio.
For me. Because I was bored with having people I loved hurt and being unable to do a damn thing about it.