52 - Jocelyn
~ 52 ~
JOCELYN
The roar of gunfire ended, but the smoke lingered for a while longer. When it finally cleared, one thing was absolutely certain:
Roman Wynter was one thousand percent dead.
Ironically, death hadn’t changed the look of smug indifference on his somewhat handsome face. I didn’t mind it at all, though. It made it all that easier for my mind to accept the absurdity of what had just happened.
“The lake out back, huh?” Morris asked Andre, the two of them staring down at the remains.
“Yup. It’s surprisingly deep.”
Morris sighed and scratched at the back of his neck. “Well, if it’s good enough for Foley, I guess it’s good enough for him.” He shook his head. “Shame, though. Fouling up such a pretty place with scum like this.”
My stomach went tight. Everyone in the room was looking at Morris. Roman’s men — now his men — stood in silence, rifles pointed at the ground.
“What now?” asked Andre.
Morris laughed softly.
“What now?” he repeated, adding a shrug. “Now we start over. The cancer’s been cut away. Blight’s streamlined again, made up of only good people like these.” He pointed around the room. “We can do great things, useful things. Things like we used to, before pieces of shit like this took over.”
He half-nudged, half-kicked Roman Wynter with his foot.
“I think he means what now with us ,” said Bishop.
Morris paused in contemplation. “Oh. That what now.”
He paced a little, circling the crumpled form of the larger than life mercenary king. It had me wondering how much he despised this man, and just how long he’d planned this coup.
“I guess that all depends on the extent of your vendetta against Blight.”
Andre coughed. “Our vendetta was always against Roman,” he said. “Never Blight.”
Morris nodded. “Good answer.”
“As of right now, we’ve accomplished everything we wanted to,” said Bishop. Glancing my way, he shot me a wink. “And then some.”
Morris finished pacing, while Andre and Bishop remained still. He returned to stand before them.
“You sure you don’t want in, Delaney?” he offered. “Considering your background, we could definitely use you.”
“No,” Bishop answered quickly. “But thanks.”
The mercenary shook his head sadly, then set his hands on his hips. In doing so, he looked around as if seeing the mansion for the very first time.
“This is the perfect place to start over, too,” Morris added. “Once we get everything cleaned up, we can sit down and figure out how to rebuild.”
He turned again, this time in our direction. He was still brandishing his weapon, but the man was so accustomed to having one he didn’t even notice.
“I don’t suppose you’ll want to stick around and feed us?” he asked Kayden directly. “If we’re gonna stay here another day or two, I guess we’ll need to eat.”
Kayden laughed. “Nah,” he answered. “My cooking days are over, at least for a little while.”
Relief washed over me finally, a little bit late to the party. Up until a minute ago, I was sure we were dead. Now, it was finally registering that we might actually get out of this.
“And what about you?” Morris asked, looking my way. “Can you cook?”
“Actually, I’m pretty terrible,” I lied.
Morris frowned in disappointment.
“It’s true though,” Bishop chimed in. “I saw her burn water, once.”
The new mercenary captain of a much smaller, more streamlined Blight dropped his arms at his sides. He neck tattoo bulged a little, as he looked at us long and hard.
“Then I’m afraid this is where we part ways,” said Morris. “This time, probably for good.”
He approached Bishop and Andre again, clasping them hand-to-forearm before shaking them roughly. I wasn’t sure if it was a military thing, but it was definitely the manliest farewell I’d ever seen outside of the movies.
“Barnes!”
A more or less slender man stepped quickly forward. I recognized him as the chopper pilot.
“Sir.”
“These four people are looking to get off this rock,” said Morris. “Give them a few minutes to gather their things, then drop them off wherever they want to go.”
“Yes, sir.”
I felt suddenly dizzy. Maybe it was all the tension, the fear, the adrenaline — all of it, really, leaving my body all at once. The idea that we were finally safe. That we could leave this place, and not look back.
That we could be together again.
“Hey…”
Kayden took my hand, interlacing his fingers with mine. He gave me a reassuring squeeze.
“You alright?”
“Of course. Why?”
“Because you’re white as a ghost. In a blizzard. Wearing a—”
“I… I think I just need to eat something.”
He smiled, pulling me against him. “Shit. Now that you bring it up, me too.”
The heat of his body felt emotionally nourishing. I was still cuddling against it when the others came over.
“So… where do we want to go?” asked Bishop.
They looked at me, as if for some reason I had the answer. I shrugged.
“Anywhere but here.”
“We could go back to Mykonos,” Kayden offered, after a pause. “Or Santorini. Or maybe—”
“Take me somewhere where we can be alone,” I found myself saying. “Somewhere without people. Somewhere we can just curl up, throw blankets over ourselves, and sleep for the next few days.”
“Sleep, eh?” Bishop mused.
“Well, not all sleep,” I relented. “But sleep first.”
Morris and his men filed back into the hallway, presumably to clean up whatever chaos might still be left over. Andre, who’d been talking to the chopper pilot, returned rubbing his chin.
“Can you sleep with the distant sound of crashing waves?” he asked me.
“Are you kidding? I had a sleep machine that did that.”
“Good,” said Andre, “because I cashed a favor.”
At that, Bishop arched an eyebrow. “You don’t mean—”
“Yes, I do mean,” confirmed Andre. “Now grab your things. And don’t forget that yellow bikini.”