Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Decker
I scrambled to the bedroom I used to store my rifle and the rest of my gear. Once I gathered my nine mil, the ammo and two of my knives, I quickly crept down the stairs, keeping my body low.
I didn’t bother with a shirt or shoes and carefully avoided the windows. Judging by the bullet trajectories and the damage to the bathroom walls, I figured the hitman—or hitmen—were positioned somewhere eye-level to the second floor.
Which meant they weren’t experts. For one, they used too many bullets. And two, if they were real aces, their aim would’ve been true and Krew would be dead. That was how I would’ve done it. Quiet and clean.
I shuddered at the thought of losing Krew—or Regina, for that matter to a bullet.
When I found the asshole who’d shot Krew, putting a bullet between their eyes was going to give me great satisfaction.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard more gunshots going off.
I chanced a glance to the ceiling, and sent a silent plea. Please stay alive.
On the main floor, by the fireplace, I found more bullet holes. Jesus, it looked like the hitman had brought the big guns to the party. I’d fix that the second I located the bastard and killed the motherfucker.
Jesus. Merrick was going to have my balls for lunch when he found out what happened to his house. Hmm. Maybe I should tie up the hitman as a gift and leave him for Merrick to torture the asshole.
But I couldn’t worry about Merrick right now.
Since the damage was on the west side of the house, my only conclusion was that the assassin was somewhere on the west end of the property. A quick study of the holes, gave me a direct route to where the shooter was set up.
Avoiding the front entrance, I went out the back door where the storage shed hid my exit. I crouched behind the ten-by-ten shed and took a measure on which direction I needed to crawl. In order to get the shooter, I needed the element of surprise.
I studied the gun in my hand, and realized I couldn’t use it. Stealth was the name of the game.
Close combat , I thought to myself, before hiding the gun behind the shed and pulling out my knives.
I kept both K-bars in my hands and began to crawl through the overgrown field to where I suspected the shooter was. About half way across, more gunfire hit the house and a scream ripped through the air. I stilled as all the oxygen left my lungs, because I knew that scream. Regi .
I debated for all of two seconds when a slight movement ahead and to the right caught my attention. Bingo .
More bullets showered the upper floor of the house—hitting the exterior wall, turning the clapboard into Swiss cheese.
Wait until I get my hands on you .
Right as I started to move, a flash of metal caught my periphery to the left.
Sunshine glinting off metal. I ducked, knowing there were two hitters in the game now.
I wasn’t sure if they were working in tandem, or whoever killed first, but the sniper in front of me was closer, so he’d be the first to die.
I moved, slow and methodical, until I was ten yards from a pair of booted feet partially covered by underbrush. Closer. And closer, until I was six feet away. Then three.
I took a long silent breath, held it, then launched myself.
I didn’t give the shooter time to turn or utter a single word.
Before the hitman realized I was there, I’d already shoved my knife into his neck, then wrenched it upwards and freed the blade from muscle and bone.
It was a quiet death. Too quick, though for my liking.
Then I released the air from my lungs and breathed in the faint metallic scent of his blood. I wiped the blade on the back of the dead bastard’s shirt, and grabbed a hold of the man’s hair and lifted his head so I could see the hitman’s face.
My stomach dropped as I stared down at… “Shit. Jay—man,” I uttered before I let go of his hair. And I thought… I guess there really were no honorable killers out there. I wanted to believe Jay when he said he wouldn’t come after me and mine.
I took a deep breath, and released the subtle annoyance. No matter. One down and one to go.
I back tracked, then crawled toward where I’d seen that flash of light, taking my time until I was several yards away.
“I’m leaving, man,” a deep voice called out. “That money isn’t worth my fucking life.”
I wanted to laugh. What? Did this bastard think he was playing with a novice?
Someone who didn’t know tactics? First rule of the game.
Never trust a word coming out of a killer’s mouth.
Jay just reaffirmed that one. And second?
Never show your hand until you see the whites of their eyes, and then you pull the trigger.
Apparently, this guy didn’t get the memo.
I stayed silent. Watching. Waiting for the guy in front of me to move. A good three minutes went by and he still didn’t show his location.
“Okay. You got me. I’m not leaving. But since this is a stalemate and I’m guessing you got Jay—he’s dead, isn’t he?”
I remained silent but inwardly chuckled.
“I don’t to die. Let’s call this even. How about it?”
Okay, asshole. Keep talking.
Unbeknownst to him, I was an expert at stealth recon—one of the few good things I’d learned in the military. I could be inches from the enemy and they would never guess I was right up their ass before I ended them. And as he kept talking, I moved silently like a snake.
This douche bag would learn how good I was soon enough. I inched in until I was close enough to see that it wasn’t a person, but a fucking walkie talkie.
“Surprise?” The hitter cackled from behind me.
Shit. That’s genius. No sooner had that thought entered my mind, a bullet nailed my thigh. Pain exploded from the entry point and spread like an electric charge from the center of the damage, up my leg.
Then another bullet hit the knife blade and the force of the impact jerked the now broken weapon from my hand. Damn, this guy was good—maybe almost as good as me.
“Thought you were a smart one, huh? But I got ya. I’m the smarter mammal. Now, you got to understand, this is only business. No hard feel—” A gunshot rang out, then silence ensued.
Were there three killers?
“Fuck,” I quietly hissed, as pain lanced through my leg.
Krew—Regi . My thoughts were now centered on them, and how I was going to stay alive to protect them.
Then I saw a figure in head-to-toe camouflage gear emerged from behind a cluster of trees to the east—and headed straight for me. As he got closer, I tagged a FN Ballista slung over his right shoulder and Sig Saur Rattler in his left hand.
He got to about three yards away from me before he stopped. “The bastard in the tree is dead,” he called out before he tucked the gun away. “I’m glad I got here in time to help.”
“Who the hell are you?” I calmly asked, as I lifted the second K-bar and pointed it at this new comer, but wished I had my gun. I didn’t care how someone came at me; I didn’t trust them until I was sure they were an ally.
Since I was at a disadvantage, I tried getting up—be eye level with the man. It took two attempts before I got my footing and stood, but I never looked away from the stranger.
The asshole laughed like a hyena. “Merrick sent me.”
Merrick? Jesus.
“Why would he send you?” I asked, while trying to get a better sense of what the hitman actually wanted.
He glanced at the house and winced. “Sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his narrowed eyes. “But I’m here now to save your sorry ass.”
As he cautiously approached, I immediately recognized his face.
Bonner Kelly . Most people called him Boom, because he liked to play with explosives.
“Am I staring at a ghost? I heard you died.” Relief coursed through me, now that I knew the man standing a yard away.
I’d only come across him one other time—several years back in a dusty back alley in a small Iraqi town, before either of us became assassins for hire.
Two different units with two different missions, but one objective.
In the end, this man wouldn’t be walking around if it wasn’t for me saving his ass when an enemy sniper wanted to use Bonner’s head for target practice.
And in the end, my unit completed the mission, got to the militants first before more women and children were taken and imprisoned in a rape house.
“Nope,” Bonner said as he approached until he within spitting distance.
“Some said you were killed. Others said you ran away like a coward from a mission and left your unit to die.” I kept my voice neutral.
He stared unblinkingly at my face. A deep, dark rage filled his green eyes, before the shadows cleared and he smirked once again. “I know you. Mosul. The rape house. Did you get them?”
“Yes.” It was all I said, not needing to explain further, or expect a thank you from the guy for saving his life.
“Good. I hope those fuckers rot in hell for what they did. And all that other shit you’ve heard about me are lies. I didn’t run away, and I didn’t leave my unit. They left me for dead after I saved their asses.”
“You said Merrick sent you. How did he find out about the hitters today.”
“I caught wind of a few individuals who want you and your demented throuple dead. Now, you do you, boo—I’m the last person to tell anyone how to live their life. But dude? You have a perfectly good pussy in that house, why would you go after ass too?”
“Really? I’m standing there, bleeding out from a bullet hole in my leg, and you’re asking me about my sex life,” I said flatly.
A single eyebrow winged up before he shook his head. “You’re standing.” His eyes focused on my bloody leg.
I nodded. “Okay. Now why did Merrick really send you here? I could have handled things on my own.”
Bonner chuckled. “Yeah right. Merrick told me that you’d need back up. And from the looks of it, I got here in time—but you have to let Merrick know that I didn’t shoot up his home. It was those other fucktards,” Bonner said as he kept staring at my leg.
Then it hit me. It wasn’t the other killer who shot me. “Why did you shoot me?” I growled.
“Because it was the only way for you to hear me out before you put a bullet in my head,” he explained with a shrug.
He was right. I would have shot first—then asked questions—if I’d had the chance. I still didn’t believe him… But then, why would he lie? Bonner currently had the advantage over me.
“Alright.”
“Call him. Merrick won’t lie,” he insisted. “He sent me here knowing you needed help. And tell him I didn’t shoot his house up.”
“You want me to call Merrick right now?” I was slightly put off. “If I don’t, you’re going to shoot me? Again?”
A scary yet genuine smile slid across his face. “If I wanted you dead, Moss, you wouldn’t be breathing right now.” He extended a hand. “My friends call me Boom.”
“I know.” I glanced at the extended hand—like I was going to take it.
“I get it. You don’t trust me. Yet.” He pointed to the bullet wound in my leg. “Got to say, from my vantage point, I’m glad I didn’t nick an artery.”
“At least it’s clean through—” A roar tore through the air, and my heart ratcheted up at the anguished cry coming from the house.
“Krew.” I limped back toward the house, leaving Bonner standing in the field. I wasn’t usually so careless, turning my back on a killer, but there was a good sixty percent chance that the man was talking truth and wouldn’t shoot me in the back.
When I finally reached the back door of the house, a naked Krew stumbling out, defeat cresting his face. His skin was ashen and his eyes were filled with tears. The blood from his shoulder wound left tracks down his chest.
“Krew,” I uttered, fearing the worst. “Where’s Regi?” I glanced around, but she hadn’t followed him out. “Talk to me.”
He blinked. Then again. More teardrops streamed down his face. “She’s… But now I know why she hates me,” he whispered, his voice taut with agony.
“What? She doesn’t hate you.”
Krew’s eyes were filled with such anguish and heartbreak that the news had to be horrific. “The day we took that joyride with Teke, and he…” Krew sucked in a harsh breath and let it out. “We separated from Regi.”
“Yeah, so we could lead the cops away from her, so she wouldn’t get into trouble with them, or with her parents,” I added, knowing by heart how that day had gone irrevocably wrong, and how it had changed our lives forever.
“Teke followed her and—” Krew dropped to his knees. “I’m going to find him and kill him myself, Deck.” And a bellow tore from his mouth.
“Baby, slow down. I’m not understanding you.”
My words penetrated and Krew finally looked at me. His eyes scanned my body before they widened in shock. “Oh fuck—you’re shot.” His hands covered the top of his head and he crumbled to the ground. “I’m sorry, Deck—for everything. My brother—everything.”
“You’re not making sense, Krew. What did Teke…” My mind quickly replayed what Krew had said about why Regina hated him… And then it hit me. “Teke did something to Regina, didn’t he.” Rage laced my words as hellfire burned in my gut.
The moment I got clarity about what Teke had done to our girl hit me, I saw red. This entire time, I had assumed she was safe and away from the cops. It was that scumbag we should have worried about.
“Teke Gatlin is a dead man walking,” I seethed, never looking away from Krew.
“Need a hand?”
I whirled around, fisted my knife and pointed it at Bonner. “Why are you still here?”
“I think you need my help,” he said nonchalantly, but his attention was on Krew. “Besides, your… man looks like he’s about to crack.”
“I got this handled, you can go.” I somehow found the strength to put aside my wrath and focus back on Krew. Even though my insides were being pummeled like rocks in a dryer.
Jesus. I needed to check on Regina to see if she was alright. And here Krew was, on the ground, still bleeding from his wound, looking ready to pass out.
“I think someone is trying to take off with your truck, Moss,” Bonner snorted, then folded his arms across his chest. “If you want, I’ll watch this big boy while you go retrieve her.” I opened my mouth to say no, but he raised a finger. “I won’t touch what’s yours.”
“I heard that before,” I said gruffly.
“Probably. But I know how to keep my word,” Bonner clipped out with ferocity, as he tapped his chest. “Besides, I don’t want to be on Merrick’s bad side.”
I rarely trust anyone in this business—no one, actually, least of all a hitman. But something in my gut was telling me to trust this hitman… To a point.
“Be right back,” I grated out, never looking away from Bonner’s face. “If one hair?—”
Bonner tipped his head toward Krew. “He doesn’t have any. Get moving before it’s too late and she’s gone.” His keen stare was enough confirmation for me to leave Krew with this hitman and get Regina before she took off with my truck.