5. Massimo
It hadn’t been difficult to discover where George Crawford lived. The corrupt bastard kept his DEA friends close during the day, but it’d been easy enough to stalk him, hiding myself in crowds as he moved through the busy streets. Now, I concealed myself in shadows, closing in on my prey in the dead of night.
The lights in their small ground floor apartment had gone out over two hours ago. They should be fast asleep by now.
Both of them: George and Evelyn, his innocent fiancée who had no involvement in my dark underworld. His criminal actions endangered her. That would’ve been reason enough for me to end him, even without my promise to Stefano Duarte.
I approached their building with a nonchalant stride, as though I was returning to my own home after a night out. I doubted any neighbors would take particular notice of me at this hour, but I kept my baseball cap pulled low over my eyes just in case.
Once I reached their front door, I made quick, quiet work of picking the lock with practiced ease. I’d have to move silently if I didn’t want to rouse George, who was likely to keep a weapon near his bed, especially after Evelyn had been targeted.
As it turned out, navigating their cramped, one bedroom apartment was almost laughably easy. I was quiet as a shadow as I moved through the darkened space, crossing the small living room in five strides before reaching the threshold of their bedroom. Soft illumination glowed through the closed curtains, the ever-present city lights impossible to shut out entirely. They caught on her platinum hair, the sheen drawing my eye to where she lay in the bed. Her fair complexion seemed to glow, like she was made of moonlight.
His slightly darker form shaped around her delicate body, an arm draped possessively over her waist. His hand curved around her hip, locking her tightly in his embrace.
My muscles tensed with a pulse of rage, an echo of the fury that’d gripped my mind in that basement and caused me to murder Duarte’s associates. This motherfucker dared to hold her when he was the reason she’d been kidnapped and brutalized. If not for me, she’d be dead now. Because of him and his selfish, greedy choices.
I took a step toward him, drawing my knife from the sheath at my belt. The wickedly sharp blade glinted in the dim lighting, flashing brighter than her moonlight hair.
My gaze flicked back to her fragile form, and my steps toward him halted. Her slender fingers were wrapped tightly around his forearm where it was braced at her waist, clinging to him in her sleep. A thick white bandage encircled her wrist, healing the wounds that’d been inflicted by her kidnappers’ cruel restraints.
Despite my remembered rage, indecision immobilized me.
Even if I killed George quickly, I wouldn’t be able to prevent his blood from marring her porcelain skin. She would wake up screaming, horrified at the violent death of the man who shared her bed.
My eyes narrowed on her hand where she clutched at him. She must love this two-faced monster. She held on to him for protection in her sleep, cuddling close to the man she’d pledged to marry. Her small diamond ring glittered through the darkened space, seeming to flash bright enough to sting my eyes.
She was innocent, but she loved this bastard. His murder would haunt her forever.
My own memories of brutal violence flickered through my mind in an unwelcome, macabre film reel. I’d lost my innocence on the day my parents had been butchered in front of me. I’d been too young to save them, too weak. And the last thing my mother had seen was my enemy’s blood on my hands. The horror in her eyes before the light had left them was seared into my soul.
I took a jerky step back from the sleeping couple.
No, I couldn’t do that to Evelyn. She’d suffered enough when Duarte’s men had beaten her. I wouldn’t add to the nightmares she’d carry for the rest of her life.
As though she sensed the danger lurking in the darkness, she stirred, tensing in Crawford’s arms. My breath caught at her soft, fearful whimper, all my muscles locking up tight. If her nightmare roused him now, I’d have no choice but to act. He surely had a weapon stashed near his bed, and a moment of hesitation could cost my life.
But the selfish bastard didn’t so much as stir at her distress.
Her shaky breath huffed through the silent bedroom, but she kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut. In the dim light, a single tear glittered on her luminous cheek as it slipped through her thick lashes.
Fuck.
She was awake, but she was hiding her residual fear from Crawford. She was likely reliving her trauma, and he slept peacefully beside her.
A reckless urge to wrap my arms around her and drag her away from him clawed at my mind, but I ruthlessly forced it down. I had to get the fuck out of here in case he did wake up.
Her next breath was a muffled sob.
I held my own breath and backed away, slipping into the shadows of the living room and out their apartment door before melting into the night.
I tasted copper on my tongue and realized I’d cut my cheek on my clenched teeth. That’d been too close. I never put myself at risk like that. In any other circumstance, I would’ve ended Crawford without a second thought. I’d survived this long because I was decisive and followed my most violent instincts without hesitation.
I shook my head sharply, as though I could toss the memory of her moonlight skin and glittering tear from my mind. Evelyn would be better off once her fiancé was dead.
I would just have to find a way to kill him so that she wouldn’t be the one to find his dead body.