Chapter Thirty-Four
I hit the ground quicker than I had expected, and it hurt like a bitch. I was winded and struggled to gasp for air.
Air—I could still breathe, which meant I wasn’t dead.
Yet.
I opened my eyes and saw the large rifle pointed at my face. I was still groggy from the fall but I managed to piece together what had happened.
The White Crow had grabbed me and jumped off the edge, landing one level below. I had crashed onto the balcony of the unfinished penthouse suites.
“Now that I have you alone, I believe we can have a chat,” the White Crow grinned, “About how you killed my brother and how I’m going to put you down like the miserable bitch you are.”
I stared at the White Crow with a venomous gaze.
“You murdered Abraham,” I seethed. “You killed him in front of me.”
“That old shit needed to go,” the White Crow replied. “Be happy it was quick. He deserved to suffer much more than he did.”
He walked over to me and licked his lips with his long slug-like tongue. “You however…”
I found myself taking a few steps back. The rifle was focused on me like a homing beacon. It was only a matter time before he pulled the trigger.
I was deer thrown into the den of a lion.
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This brought me to now. I was a lonely girl with the shattered dreams of being a musician.
Two people that I cared for were dead because of me—one of them six feet under and the other a pile of ash and bone. It only made sense that I was next to die.
It seemed foolish to think that only three weeks ago, my biggest worry in life was scrounging enough money to have a hot meal. Now, my fears included assassins, serial killers, hit squads, and the devil that waited for me in the afterlife.
The White Crow was still waiting for my decision—die by a bullet or take the plunge fifty-stories down. Both were equally unappealing.
“Make a decision girl,” the White Crow said. “Be happy I’m giving you a choice.”
“You expect me to thank you for that?” I asked; bitterness stitched into my words.
“I don’t have time for this,” the White Crow said. “If you don’t make a decision on how you’re going to die, then I’ll make one for you. I’m starting to lean towards senseless and uncontrolled bludgeoning. ”
While the White Crow continued his threats, I saw Shadow sneaking up behind him concealed in a blanket of darkness.
I allowed my eyes to divert away from the White Crow and looked over his left shoulder while I let out a sigh of relief.
The White Crow grinned.
“I see what you’re getting at,” he said, “Sadly you need a better poker face.”
He spun to his left and fired off a quick shot, but was surprised to see that no one was there.
“Wrong side asshole,” Shadow said as he blindsided the White Crow from the opposite direction and drilled him in the shoulder with a two-by-four, causing the assassin to drop his weapon.
The White Crow growled like a wounded bear, taking a step back while clutching his arm.
“Ugh, what the fuck,” he cursed. “That hurt like hell.”
“Nothing compared to this,” Shadow said as he lunged at the White Crow, hands still gripping the large piece of wood.
Despite being wounded, the White Crow’s reflexes were bursts of lightening. He was much faster than his brother, dodging Shadow’s attack and retaliating with a boot to his gut. Shadow dropped to his knees, writhing in pain.
“You fucking coward,” the White Crow spat. “This is what fighting me fairly actually feels like.” He followed up with another kick to Shadow’s ribs. I heard a sickening crunch.
I couldn’t stand here like a useless damsel in distress and watch Shadow get pummeled. I scoured the ground for the closest weapon and discovered a full bucket of primer lying mere inches away. The White Crow continued his assault on Shadow, who struggled to get to this feet but was struck back down to his knees with the White Crow’s heavy fists.
“This is what you deserve for trying to be a snake,” The White Crow continued taunting. “I can do this all fucking-”
Before he could finish his sentence, I took the opportunity to attack him with the bucket, swinging it awkwardly with two hands, and managed to catch him across the side of his head.
“Argh,” he screamed, clutching his head. “Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you people? Stop fighting like cowards.”
I came at him again but had the wind knocked out of me when he countered with an elbow to the soft spot of my stomach. The pain felt like an electric shock, originating from where he had hit me, all the way to my fingertips as I struggled to suck in air.
The White Crow picked up the paint bucket with one hand, raised it over his head, threatening to bring it down on my skull.
Shadow snuck up from behind, a hammer in one hand, and grabbed the White Crow’s wrist—still clinging onto the bucket—with the other. He pulled the bastard’s arm as far back as he could and delivered a punishing blow to the assassin’s elbow with the hammer.
The White Crow howled in pain as Shadow crushed the bones in his arm.
“You murdered my friend,” Shadow said as he continued his assault, driving the hammer into the White Crow’s kneecap, smashing it to oblivion.
The killer’s howls intensified as he took a few staggered steps back. Shadow continued the attack, making contact with every swing. The White Crow shielded his arms while backing away in retreat. The two were drawing closer to the edge.
“Shadow, watch out,” I cried out. My warnings were ignored. Shadow was too focused on obliterating the White Crow to pay any attention to me.
One of Shadow’s blows landed on the White Crow’s head and I thought for sure that was the deathblow.
Astonishingly, the White Crow failed to stay down and instead—with a surge of superhuman adrenaline—charged into Shadow like an angry bull. Shadow tried to get out of the way but wasn’t quick enough as the White Crow barreled into him, sending them both flying over the edge.
“Shadow!” I screamed, rushing towards the spot where they had both fallen over. I couldn’t stand the thought of him dying on me. I needed Shadow in my life. He was all I had left in this world and I loved him.
He was clinging onto a flimsy piece of scaffolding gutting out of the side of the building. The White Crow was gone, reduced to a smear on the concrete. I hoped he was with his brother, dancing with the devil in hell.
From the creaking of the scaffolding, it wouldn’t be long before it all went tumbling down.
I lay flat on my belly, just at the edge, and reached out to Shadow. He extended one hand upwards but we were still inches apart.
I willed my body to stretch further, hoping to defy all physical odds written by the universe. The tips of my fingers touched his and for a moment, I thought I could do it. I thought I could save Shadow’s life.
One of the bolts securing the scaffolding to the side of the building came undone under the stress of Shadow’s weight. I was devastated as Shadow sank a few inches further away from me.
He drew his hand back.
“What are you doing?” I cried. “Don’t give up.”
He shook his head and smiled at me sadly.
“I’d never hurt you Aria,” Shadow said. “Never in a million years.”
He was referring to the moment when he had the knife in his hands and I thought I was a goner. Had Sinister waited for the full three seconds, would I still be alive?
A loud creek came from the scaffolding. Any second, it was ready to give.
“Shadow, please,” I said, reaching out to him again.
“Just tell me you love me,” he said. “That’s all I need from you.” His face was red from strain, his voice hoarse.
“I love you,” I said without hesitation.
I saw peace on Shadow’s face as he closed his eyes, accepting that this was the end. If he was going to die, I wanted to join him.
“I love you too Shadow,” came a third voice. The sight of Lincoln lying down next to me, reaching out for Shadow made my heart sing. “Now come on, hold my hand damn it.”
A smile crept across Shadow’s face as he nodded and extended his hand upwards. I was relieved to see that he was able to grab Lincoln’s hand, and just in time too. A split-second after Shadow released his grip on the loose scaffolding, it came crashing down, plummeting to the ground below.
“And to think, I used to get teased for my gorilla-long arms,” Lincoln said. He clenched his teeth and using both hands, pulled Shadow up and back onto solid ground.
Shadow collapsed onto his back and sucked in a heavy breath of air.
“Remind me to fire the construction crew for installing such shitty scaffolding,” he said. “No more cash deals, ever again.”
I dove on top of Shadow and pelted him with a hundred butterfly kisses.
“Maybe you two should wait until the hotel is finished and then get a room,” Lincoln said, wiping sweat off his brow. The right side of his face was swollen and his lip was fat and bloodied.
“You look like shit,” Shadow said.
“My abilities to stay beautiful seemed to have deteriorated with each subsequent attempt on my life,” Lincoln replied.
Above, the sounds of the helicopter blades were growing louder. The chopper was fast approaching.
“The helicopter,” I said, pointing out the obvious.
“Well ahead of you,” Lincoln acknowledged as they both rose to their feet and bolted for the stairwell that led back to the helipad.
“Sinister’s mine,” Shadow said.
“Leave a piece for me,” Lincoln added. “I want the softest and fleshiest piece.”
By the time we reached the helipad, the chopper was already on the ground and Sinister was entering into it.
“No you don’t,” Shadow said as he began sprinting for the chopper, leaping over the unconscious bodies of the two guards that Lincoln had dispatched.
Shadow was fast, but when it came down to man versus machine, the latter always won. By the time Shadow reached the helicopter, it was already fifteen feet up in the air.
“This isn’t over,” Shadow cried out to him.
“Of course not,” Sinister shouted over the noise of the spinning blades. “This has been too much fun. I’m glad you survive d all of this Shadow, I really am. You may not believe me, but I still do love you…brother.”
And then the chopper was gone. Sinister’s final words reverberated in my ears.
Brother?
Shadow stood on the helipad, his eyes staring into the distance at the chopper which had become a speck in the sky.
“It’s not her,” Lincoln said, his voice pulling Shadow’s attention from the city skyline back down to us. “Thank God, it’s not her.”
“What?” Shadow asked.
“It’s not Calisto,” Lincoln repeated, cradling the dead woman in his arms, knife still buried in her heart.
I had a look for myself. He was right. From afar it was easy to be fooled.
With a new hairdo and a gag over her mouth, it was easy to transform Bria into a Calisto look-alike.
The poor girl didn’t deserve to die like this, despite her antagonizing me. Bria wasn’t a bad person, just confused and misunderstood; and now she was gone.
Lincoln laid her body back on the ground and then stood up. In his hands was an electronic tablet.
“I found this next to the body,” Lincoln said.
Shadow’s eyes narrowed when he saw the tablet. He took it from Lincoln’s hands, tapped on the screen and saw that it was loaded with a video.
The screen image was of Sinister, sitting on what looked to be a throne.
Before even watching the video, I already knew that Sinister’s message was not going to be good.
Shadow held the tablet out for everyone to see and hit the play button. I held my breath and listened to the bastard’s words, which I knew would change us all forever.
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