Chapter Twenty Six, Die Hard
The closet was organized by color from dark to light—Atlas’ touch, as always. It was all neat and clean and reminded me just how much I missed my boys when I saw their clothes.
It was easy to see what belonged to which person. Everything I owned was in all colors of the rainbow. Everything Gio owned was either expensive suit related, or gym boy stuff.
Atlas just had black. Black T-shirts. Black jeans. Black hoodies. Mostly the same items replicated. That was it.
I flipped through the hangers, the fabric brushing against my fingers as I searched for something dark and functional. Nothing fancy, nothing loud. Just practical. Something my inner hitwoman would wear to go do hitwoman things.
Ideally, I would wear a sexy little piece with lots of holes, and some hooker heels that were good for stomping. But this wasn’t a video game where massive boobs and a slutty dress were good armor. I needed to be smart, not hot enough to make my men come running home to me, and wear something real.
My fingers snagged on a pair of black sports leggings. They were simple, form-fitting, and wouldn’t snag on underbrush or get caught if I had to climb or run. Perfect for a rescue mission, where I couldn’t afford to trip over something as stupid as my own clothes.
I tossed the leggings onto the bed and turned back to the closet, eyes scanning for a top.
It had to be something that wouldn’t restrict movement.
So I could do all my ninja stuff without getting caught on my own sleeve.
My gaze landed on one of Atlas’ long-sleeved shirts.
Black, soft, just worn enough to carry the faintest trace of his scent.
Pulling it off the hanger, I pressed the fabric to my nose for a moment, inhaling deeply. It smelled so much like him that I instantly welled up. But like the bad bitch I was pretending to be, I swallowed the lump in my throat and tossed the shirt onto the bed with the leggings.
But it wasn’t enough.
I needed something more, something that felt like Gio.
My eyes darted to the small pile of clothes he’d left folded on the shelf.
I grabbed one of his only black T-shirts, soft and well-worn, the kind that clung to his lean frame in a way that made me jealous of fabric.
I slipped it on over Atlas’ shirt, the mix of their scents wrapping around me like armor.
I took a breath, letting the smell of them sink into my skin. It was comforting and painful all at once.
God, I missed them. I wanted to kick them in the shins super hard for getting kidnapped. Then I wanted to kick the bitch who took them even harder.
A sharp pang of anger cut through the ache. Anger at the universe for putting us in this position. Anger at myself for not being able to protect them. But fear lingered underneath it all, gnawing at the edges of my resolve.
If I’d been a better hitwoman, then I wouldn’t have let them go. I would have murdered anyone who harmed them. Which was what I wanted to do. Would do from now on.
I shook the anger off, grabbed my combat boots, and shoved my feet into them with more force than necessary. Cinching the laces tight, I stood, letting the tension roll off my shoulders as I pretended I was just getting ready for work.
It was a dance. That was it. I was gonna shake some ass, get some goods, and then be on my merry way. Simple.
Next up in my attire was Atlas’ knife, gleaming on the bedside table. I grabbed it, tucking it into my waistband. But my eyes caught on the ghost mask sitting beside where the knife had been.
It stared at me, expressionless and eerie.
The mask was Atlas. It was a piece of him, a symbol of his soul. It was how I knew him first, how I knew him still when he enjoyed playing monster. It was what Gio teased him about, as though he didn’t enjoy the sight of a masked Atlas just as much as I did.
It was also what I was bringing with me. The final touch, aside from some of Gio’s aftershave, to make me feel ready to go and do some murdering.
I was going to play Wraith.
“Good girl,” I murmured, crouching to Malivore’s level.
Her big eyes watched me intently as I grabbed, then slid her harness over her head, tightening the straps snugly.
“We’re going to get our boys, okay? And you’re going to be the best damn sidekick anyone’s ever seen.
” She licked me, and I took that as her agreement.
“We’re gonna do a Die Hard and fuck some bitches up. ”
Her tail thumped against the floor as she barked softly, her excitement making me smile despite everything.
I straightened quickly, pulling my hair into a low ponytail so I didn’t have to mess around when I wanted to wear the mask. The elastic snapped into place just as Rowan’s voice cut through the quiet.
“Very subtle, Lucky.”
I turned to see him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed and a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“What?” I asked, glancing down at myself.
“The whole assassin chic look,” he said, gesturing to my all-black outfit. “Very intimidating. Definitely says, ‘I’m about to commit multiple felonies.’”
“Good,” I shot back, grabbing a pair of Gio’s fancy leather driving gloves and shoving them into my leggings pocket. “That’s exactly what I’m going for. I have to dress for the job I want. And the job I want today is badass criminal.”
Rowan chuckled, stepping further into the room. His smirk faded slightly, replaced by a more serious expression as he leaned against the wall.
“Listen,” he started, his voice softer now. “I need to say something before we do this.”
I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. “What?”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. For everything. For going to prison and leaving you behind. For not having been there after Missy died. For all of it.”
The mention of Missy made my chest tighten, but I forced myself to meet his gaze. “You had your reasons,” I said carefully.
The scar on my stomach twinged as though the reminder of how I got it, and my parent’s deaths, was making the memories come to life again.
But as I was firmly a member of the boat club that sailed the river De-Nile, I refused to let them stay.
Those bitches were shoved down into the crevices of my brain, where useless things stayed.
Like the Pythagorean theorem from math class.
“Yeah,” he admitted, “but they weren’t good ones. Killing the bastards who murdered Mom and Dad felt right at the time, but…”
“You don’t regret it,” I interrupted. I knew that without a doubt.
He shook his head. “Not for a second. They deserved what they got. But I do regret what it cost. I regret leaving you behind when you needed me most.”
The raw honesty in his voice caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Usually, I was full of words and rambles and things to offer. But there was nothing.
There was no correct answer. Wrong answer. There just was.
“You’re here now,” I said finally, my voice steadier than I felt. “And that’s what matters.”
Rowan stepped closer until he was standing right in front of me.
“I promise I’m not going anywhere again.
Whatever happens, I’m staying. I’m looking out for you this time.
” He smiled. “I mean, I have to pretend to be dead a little while longer. But we can text. Then I can see you. Every day if you want. Until you get annoyed.”
A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down, nodding.
“Good. Because we don’t have time to sit around being mad at each other.
” I sighed. “I need you, Ro. I need you to be here and make me feel safe. Because right now, I don’t feel safe.
I’m just lost and scared, and I don’t know how to fix things. ”
“That’s why you have me. I’m a certified badass; far better than those scrawny little boys you’re dating.” He grinned harder.
“Gio is taller than you.” My eyes rolled. “Atlas is scarier. Both of them could kick your ass. But I could kick your ass the most.”
“You wish.” Rowan scoffed. “Either way, I’m gonna make sure we rescue your damsels in distress, and when we’re done, you’re going to introduce me for real.
So I can warn them about how badly I’ll kill them if they hurt you.
” He pulled me into a hug that was more like him crushing the air out of my lungs.
I liked it, though. Needed it.
“Can’t. Breathe.” I choked as I held him tighter.
“Good.” He pulled away. “Alright, let’s get moving before Silver bites our heads off. Or you decide to die on me like a loser.”
As if on cue, Silver appeared in the doorway, her expression sharp.
“You ready?” She asked, her gaze flicking to the mask in my hands, and smiling softly at the sight of it.
“Ready,” I said.
“Good,” she waved me forward. “Let’s go get some extra weapons and get our guys back.”
Rowan held the door open as I stepped through, Malivore trotting faithfully at my side. It was still a little dark out, but I didn’t mind. It helped fill me with confidence that I was about to do something right for a change.
We were coming for my men. And no one was going to stop us.
Especially not me.
***
The weapons bunker’s fluorescent lights flickered above us, making me far more nervous than I wanted to be.
With each step I took, it echoed as we moved deeper inside, surrounded by racks of weapons gleaming under the artificial light.
It was like stepping into an armory on a movie set, except it was real, and every single piece of metal and plastic around us was loaded or could be.
Silver was a scary bitch. She had more weapons than most countries did. Fuck, she even had a mini-tank, and she sure as hell looked happy about it. She gushed about how she couldn’t wait to use it one day, as though that was something to be excited about.