Chapter 15 #4
“We share bodily fluids. Please try to keep your contact with others’ fluids to a minimum.
” Alexei tucks the used glove in one pocket with a grimace, replacing it with a fresh one from another pocket.
Widow takes a pair of gloves when offered them, using the latex to cover up his bloody hands until he can get a chance to wash them.
Ash is the one with blood on his face, a fine spray of it that cuts his porcelain complexion in half.
I take a step back, my lingerie-clad ass reflected back at the boys from the mirror behind me.
“I’m about to try on a wedding dress. What do you heathens want? Who’s dead?” I ask, sighing. Less bodies is better, but an assassin? That’s where we’re at right now. Kill or be killed. “And how do you know the assassin was expensive?”
“Took all four of us to corner him,” Widow says, voice husky with the hunt. His pupils are huge. His hands are the bloodiest. But Ash has a bunch on his face. Bohnes has a few spots on his sweater. Alexei smells like antiseptic, like he’s already wiped himself clean.
“If it’s difficult for me to kill an assassin by myself, then he’s expensive,” Bohnes insists, picking up the dress I was about to try on. He holds it by the hanger, smiling as he studies the fabric. “White? Didn’t Bastian just warn you about this?”
“When you see it with the hat and shit, you’ll understand.” I reach out for the dress, careful not to let the fabric go anywhere near Widow and Ash. My eyes meet Alexei’s.
“If something goes wrong on our wedding day—which it could—then the white will show blood.” Alexei doesn’t say that like it’s a good thing or a bad one, just a plain ol’ fact.
That’s something I need to think about. Theatrics.
If something goes wrong, a bride in a white gown splattered with blood? Sensational.
“Careful.” Ash reaches a cupped hand over my head, catching a splash of something in his palm. He lowers his hand and I see a drop of blood in it. “Sorry. We haven’t cleaned that up yet. Do you mind if I borrow that chaise?”
I nod, numb, as Ash drags the furniture over and climbs on it. He removes a tin ceiling tile and hands it over to Bohnes.
Ash hops up and crawls into the blackness beyond, reappearing a few seconds later to descend. He drags a body along with him, drawing it out and trusting the other three boys to catch it.
The assassin was in the ceiling above my head.
That was close.
“Who was he looking for?” I ask, watching them lay the dead guy out on the floor. I step into the corner and slip into the dress while they’re cleaning up evidence from a murder. I’m so dizzy that my head is spinning from the adrenaline.
“Bohnes or Widow,” Ash says, nodding his head like he’s just realized something. “Yeah, this was Chet. We’re going to keep receiving visitors until someone gets the job done. If he needs to, he’ll hire a militia.”
“You guys are a militia; I’m not worried.” I step into the dress and pull it up, turning so that Bohnes can button it up for me.
His fingers are cold against my warm back.
“The assassin was after you and Widow?” I ask, thinking of the police that came to the house with a warrant.
Ash, Alexei, and I are covered by the family.
Chet will do whatever it takes to keep himself from becoming the family’s target.
But Bohnes and Widow? We predicted this, and I don’t like it.
A chill shivers down my spine, and I close my eyes against the sight of Kellin’s huge form standing behind me in the mirror.
It’s too much, the sight of him in that bloody sweatshirt with the reflection of his eyes so tender and blue.
“We’re going to have you watch the door to the dressing rooms while we carry the body out the back. How does that sound?” Bohnes runs his tongue along the side of my neck, forcing me to open my eyes and face him in the mirror.
“No response, huh? Are you worried?” I stare back at him, but he’s as smug and confident as ever.
“Not at all. This is what I do best.” Bohnes takes a step back after he finishes the buttons, ending up side by side with Alexei. The two of them are staring at me while Ash and Widow work together on the blood situation. “I took the liberty of ordering a cake for the party tonight.”
“It’s not too late to poison it with batrachotoxin.” Alexei may or may not be joking.
“Are you going to show us that dress or not?” Basti calls out, and I grin, slipping past the boys and the corpse so I can pop into the hallway without anyone being the wiser as to what’s inside that room.
Thank God this place is bougie and the dressing rooms are actually rooms and not just partitioned stalls or something. “Oh, Queen.”
Bastian turns away, putting both hands over his mouth. It’s possible that he’s crying, but not for me. I might not be cryin’ much over spilt Lemonade, but Basti and Lucy were always close. Each time we have one of these milestone moments, it feels a little more natural for her not to be here. Sad.
“The white is pretty.” Nisha walks a circle around me, admiring the fit. “What’d the boys think?”
“The boys are here?” Basti asks, looking around like he’s bewildered. Then he notices that the back door is ajar, leading into a well-kempt alley behind the store. It’s an emergency exit that was forced from the outside. “Ah.”
“Add a red petticoat and heels, some black gloves.” I take both of my friends by the arms and lead them back into the main part of the store, talking loudly about dress sizes and alternative options to what I’m wearing.
Both of the girls in the shop are all over me, helping the three of us pick out clothes to try on.
Good on them.
We’re going to spend a lot of money in here.
By the time I get back to the dressing room, you’d never know that an assassin was killed in the ceiling.
Brilliant.