Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
LEVI
NINE YEARS AGO
I’ve learned two things about Linc within the few hours we’ve been introduced. One—he doesn’t talk much. His responses to my incessant questions are just grunts and dirty looks. Two—he seems to think that two hours constitutes the phrase, “We’re just up the hill.”
He knocked my brother out, tied him up, and threw him on the floor of the back seat of his unmarked, blackout sedan. I had the privilege of riding shotgun, but I have a sinking feeling that Colt’s fate and my own might not be too different after all.
We’re well outside of Denver now, somewhere deep in the mountains on a windy road. This late at night, it’s hard to make out any real landmarks. If Linc decides to ditch my ass on the side of the road, I’ll have a marathon to walk before I hit civilization. This far into the mountains, he could easily hide a dead body.
The car stops abruptly at a property gate that seems to appear out of nowhere. I fly forward in my seat, knocking my knees hard on the dash.
“I warned you to put on your seat belt,” Linc murmurs. He can’t be that much older than me. But he’s definitely more serious than any teenager I’ve ever encountered.
“Would you also like me to stay off the green lawn you just mowed, Grandpa?” I snark, righting myself into the seat.
“Are you always this mouthy?” He turns to face me and arches one brow.
“Yeah... Why?”
“Because your chattiness may determine how hard I work to convince Vesper to let you stay.”
That wipes the smile right off my face. “What would happen to me?”
“You’re seventeen. Even with government assistance, your mother can’t take care of you. It’s pretty obvious she needs to be institutionalized.”
I stare into my lap and am silent, picturing my mother’s hollow, pale cheeks. My stomach twists thinking about the fresh bruises my brother left on her, and how she was so frail she didn’t even flinch when he hit her.
Linc must read the shift in my demeanor, because for the first time since I met him, he reaches over and places his hand on my shoulder. “I didn’t mean that disrespectfully. I meant, she needs help, and it’s a shame no one intervened sooner.”
Linc arranged a hospital transport for my mother, but the ambulance had to arrive after we left. He didn’t want to be seen at our house.
“She didn’t always look like that,” I say. “My mom was really pretty. Like really gorgeous back in her day. She was smart and kind, too. The only ugly thing about her was her love for my dad.”
“Your dad is—”
“Dead.” I glance to the back seat and Colt’s seemingly lifeless body. “My brother shot and killed him point-blank six years ago.”
“Why isn’t he in jail?” Linc asks.
“He was thirteen. The courts ruled it self-defense. Colt got therapy and community service, and that was it. My dad was a detective, but he was also an abuser and a drunk. I think…”
“Think what?” Linc presses when I trail off.
“I think everybody knew. I mean, yeah… I’m sure of it. It almost seems like they were glad Colt did what he needed to. It was the only way my family could be free. My dad had the resources to hunt us to the ends of the world. We couldn’t run. Colt said his death was our only way out.”
Colt groans quietly from the back, causing Linc to pull out his phone. He speed-dials a number and puts his phone to his ear. “I’m at the gate; let us through. I have the target…and a plus-one… I’ll explain when I see you in a moment…” He glances at me. “Vesper, it’s complicated.”
Great. I’m complicated. All I know is Linc is not law enforcement. He’s clearly a hitman of some sort. The only reason Colt is alive is because I’m assuming they want information from him. I have no doubt torture will be one of their extraction tactics, considering the way Linc nearly snapped his neck to subdue my meth-filled brother. What they do with me is still up in the air. Linc wasn’t expecting me, that’s for sure. Now… I’m either their burden or collateral damage. Jury’s still out.
“So, I don’t understand,” Linc says after hanging up the phone, not bothering to tell me who he just called. “Your dad has been gone for years, but for some reason, your mom still looks kicked to shit?”
I swallow down the bile that bubbles up in my throat. It’s the dirty, shameful secret I’ve kept for far too long. The excuses I’ve used to rationalize for so long come to the forefront of my mind; Colt is just lashing out. It’s the drugs. I’m too young to do anything about it. It’s ultimately Dad’s fault for setting such a bad example. This will end.
This will end…
But it never did.
It’s the reason I finally had the courage to pick up the gun tonight and end Colt the same way he had to end my dad all those years ago. It was the only way. But by some miracle, Linc arrived before I chickened out. I had the pistol pointed at my brother’s forehead, but when I saw the fear in his eyes, my anger cooled, and all I felt was pity, sadness, regret, and confusion.
It should’ve been easy to kill the man who was beating my mother. Except that man was my brother.
“We needed money. Insurance wouldn’t help us, seeing as my dad’s death was a family-inflicted murder. My mother had a psychotic break sometime when my dad was abusing her.”
The doctors said it was genetic, but I don’t believe that bullshit for one second. My father beat her until she lost her mind. In a way, it was murder. But the damn doctors want to call it schizophrenia.
“Anyway,” I continue, “my mom is highly dependent on prescription medication, and we needed money. My brother started running around with some gang, dealing drugs a few years back. Mom and I didn’t ask questions. He was bringing money home. He bought my mom’s medication out of pocket and filled the fridge with groceries. But then something snapped in him.”
“Look at me.” Linc turns on the overhead lights.
I turn toward him but don’t look him in the eye. His gaze is hot on my cheek, jaw, and my left eye. He’s examining the faded bruises. “It’s nothing,” I mumble.
“Colt started doing drugs, and turned out to be just as bad as your dad, didn’t he?”
I hold my breath, refusing to let the tears form. “Even worse.”
The gate in front of us opens, swinging backward. Linc throws the car into drive, but he keeps his foot on the brakes. “Levi, I wasn’t expecting you tonight. Colt has information we need. The gang he runs around with is a little more than a gang. But I had no idea he was living with his mother and brother. Now, you’re a witness.”
“I don’t want to go into the system,” I say.
“Is there anyone else who can take you in?” Linc asks.
I shake my head. Abuse tends to create an impenetrable bubble between you and the world. Not a soul outside of my mom, Colt, and now Linc knows what we’ve been through.
“I’m going to ask Vesper, my boss, if we can help you, but I can’t make any promises. She makes the rules, not me.”
I nod silently, looking forward at the dark road ahead of us. “Okay.”
“One more thing,” Linc adds.
“What’s that?” Reaching up, I turn off the cabin lights, not wanting the spotlight on the bruises on my face.
“My mother was really beautiful, too. Before the drugs took over her life, she was a different person. Those are the memories I focus on. The more I stay focused on the good, the more all the other bullshit fades away. Make sense?”
“Yeah, makes sense.”
Linc slams his foot on the gas. I fly backward into my seat which such force, it steals my breath. Rolling my eyes, I grab my seat belt and fasten it across my waist.
I’ve been waiting in the car for at least half an hour. When we arrived at what can only be described as the haunted mansion on the hill, Linc told me to sit tight. He dragged an immobile Colt out of the car and slung him over his shoulder easily, as if he had the strength of two men, double his size.
The adrenaline from the past few hours has finally calmed, and I feel restless. I can’t sit in this damn car a moment longer. I open the passenger door, and the first thing I hear is unmistakable gunshots. The nervous flood of energy returns, and I hate that I immediately worry about Colt.
But the gunshots aren’t coming from the house that Linc walked into. They are coming from what looks like a large steel barn about 200 meters behind me.
The gunshots fire off again, and I realize it’s the same exact pattern. Three rapid shots, a brief pause. One more shot. A longer pause, then one more shot.
This whole sequence happens two more times before I finally hear the unmistakable roar of frustration. A woman’s roar.
It must be cold out because I can see my breath against the night air. But for some reason, I can’t feel it, even in short sleeves. My heavy combat boots grind loudly into the dirt trail leading to the barn. I have zero stealth at the moment, and it dawns on me that walking toward gunfire is probably a bad idea. But when I hear the same shot pattern again, I can’t help my curiosity.
There’s a padlock on the barn, but it’s unlocked, just dangling over the two handles. I free the lock and toss it on the ground before peeling the barn doors open.
Far across the barn, a small blonde, dressed head to toe in black, wearing combat boots that look similar to my own, looks at me with her eyes wide. She raises the pistol in her hand and takes a few steps forward with the gun pointed at my head. “Who the fuck are you?” she calls out in a thick, Irish accent.
There’s a gun in my face, but for some reason, I feel pretty relaxed. Or hypnotized, more accurately. Holy shit. I’m seventeen with raging hormones, and honestly, a cool breeze at the right moment can turn me on, but I’m not exaggerating when I say this is the most excruciatingly beautiful human being I’ve ever laid eyes on.
The closer she gets, the more paralyzed I get. She’s literally so stunning, it hurts. I might end up with a bullet in my brain, but if she’s the last sight I see… Well, there are worse ways to go.
“Talk,” she snaps, when she’s about five feet away from me.
I force out the words as quickly as I can. “Linc brought me in.” I hold my hands in the air. “I’m not armed. I was waiting in the car for him to come get me, and I heard gunshots.”
She squints one eye. “Linc left you alone in the car, unsupervised?”
I nod in reply, eyes fixed on the strange way she’s clutching the grip of her Glock.
“Then you must be no harm. Linc doesn’t take risks like that.” She lowers her gun. “Unrelated, are you on a suicide mission?” She cocks her head to the side, her long ponytail swishing behind her.
I have to look down to see her big, green eyes. I must be almost a foot taller than she is. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“So you normally just burst into a live fire room?” She points to the target boards with steel backings in various places around the barn. “That’s a good way to die. PALADIN doesn’t have a lot of safety rules, but don’t be an idiot is definitely one of the ones we try to abide by.”
“PALADIN?” I ask.
“I thought you said Linc brought you in?”
I exhale. “He was after my brother for information. I was an accidental tagalong, I suppose.”
“Did he catch him?” she asks.
I give her a clipped smile before glancing over my shoulder at the main house in the distance behind me. “Yep. He’s probably ripping his toes off one by one as we speak.”
The blonde nods with a serious face. “Interesting. It’s been a while since Linc used that tactic. It’s awfully messy.”
The blood drains from my face. “I was kidding. You don’t think he’s—”
She interrupts me with a loud chuckle. “So am I. Sorry, spend too much time around here, and your humor will grow dark.”
“Noted.”
Using her gun, she points over my shoulder. “Close that, please. It’s fucking freezing. I can’t hit my targets as it is. The cold doesn’t help. Slows me down.”
I do as she asks, sliding the doors together until I hear them click and latch. When I turn back around to face her, I say, “It could be ninety degrees in here and you’ll never hit a target with that weird eagle clutch you have on your grip.”
She drops her jaw. “Really? Insulting the woman who has a loaded gun and is pretty frustrated at the moment?”
“Your accent,” I say, digressing. “Irish?”
“Oh, you hear it?” she asks.
“Very much so.”
“I’ve been watching YouTube videos since I got to the States, trying to lose my accent. It makes me stick out like a sore thumb on a job. Not that I’ll get any jobs until I can clear a room like this.” Again, she gestures to the target boards surrounding us.
“I hope you don’t,” I say.
“Clear the room?”
I grin at her. “Lose your accent.”
I swear she flushes. Just slightly, but it was there—I saw it.
“What’s your name?”
“Levi,” I answer.
She holds out her free hand. “Nice to meet you, Levi. I’m Cricket.”
Shaking her hand delicately, I show her a little smirk. “Your parents named you Cricket ? They must’ve hated you.”
She gives me a dangerous look, but then her face relaxes into a clipped smile. “You really just open your mouth and let whatever roll on out, don’t you?”
I laugh, still holding her cool hand in mine, unwilling to let go just yet. “My underappreciated superpower.”
She must be getting uncomfortable with the way we’re eyes-locked, like we’re trying to fall in love or something, because she rips her hand out of mine. “Fiona,” she says. “My real name is Fiona.”
“Ah, Fiona. Irish princess, destined to fall in love with an ogre.”
“Huh?”
“ Shrek ?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “What is that?”
“A movie.”
She gives me an odd stare. “Oh… I’m not a big movie person.”
“Oh, you’re into books?”
“Eh…”
“Sports?”
She shakes her head.
“So, then what do you do?” I ask.
Fiona wiggles her wrist, twisting her pistol. “This.”
Now, my brain is spinning. What the hell is PALADIN? I thought this was a group of off-beat cops, trying to be secret vigilantes. They seem more elite than that, though.
“What’s wrong with my grip?” She holds out her arm, showing me the way her fingers are wrapped around the textured handle.
“What kind of Glock is this? A 19M?”
Her eyes light up. “Yes. You know your stuff.”
“I do,” I admit. “I study this shit religiously.” I wink at her. “But I still make time for movies. Can’t have all work, no play.”
“You’re a cop?” she asks.
“I’m seventeen,” I answer. “Almost eighteen, so no.” I don’t know why I felt the need to add “almost eighteen.” I guess because now would be a really good time to seem a little more manly than I actually am. “You?”
“Eighteen”—she smirks—“almost nineteen. Okay, show me what you’ve got. Can you clear this room in under eight seconds?” Fiona taps the G-Shock watch on her wrist. “I’ll count you in.”
“What are my marks?”
“You enter from right where you are. Take out the three targets in the back, all in a row. Head shots. They all need to fall as close together as possible. Then you have a backup man on your left who is firing.” She points to the opposite side of the barn. “You dodge, shoot, then fall. Then, you have one more unexpected man at the door.” She points to one more target board right behind me. “You have to take that shot from the ground on your back.” She hands me the gun. “Let’s see what you got, hotshot.”
“Are you loaded?” I ask as I take the gun from her.
“You should have enough for five shots,” she mutters as she tinkers with her watch.
“Watch the ricochet,” I warn. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Yeah, yeah. Eight seconds.” She taps her watch. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
I grip the handle and check the sight line. This is not a hard maneuver with a semi-automatic. I’m certain the issue is her grip. I stretch my neck side to side, then exhale.
“Ready.”
The first three quick pops are child’s play. I take two large strides forward, and fire again at the side target before falling to the ground. I can barely feel the cold concrete against my back before I fire off the last shot, eyes fixed on the black target board just to the right of Fiona.
She stops the clock and practically jogs past me to the target boards in the back. She crosses to the other side of the barn to check the far-left target. Finally, she paces to the target board by the barn doors as I pick myself back up. I walk to her side.
“Who the fuck are you?” she asks in a whisper, backing away from me like she’s scared.
“I told you…Levi,” I answer, unsure of her change in demeanor.
She holds up her watch. “Five seconds and all kill shots, right in the center of the forehead… You’re not a hostage…you’re an assassin. You didn’t come with Linc. You’re here to kill me, aren’t you?” Her eyes widen. “I’m so stupid,” she mutters, “I put the fucking gun in your hand.”
“Fiona,” I say, stepping closer. Her back hits the wall, and she has nowhere left to retreat. I hold up the gun. She clamps her eyes shut tightly and braces herself. “Fiona,” I say again.
She opens her eyes to see me holding her gun out, handle first.
“You’re misfiring because you’re clutching your handle like you’re afraid your gun is going to run away from you. Let the gun rest into the back of your palm. Lock your wrists—”
“Bad advice,” she says. “With one hand, the recoil would break my wrists.”
“Wrong. Your wrists are strong. Actually, your hands are surprisingly big for a woman of your size.” I smile when she scowls at me. “What I’m saying is trust your wrists. Brace them and let the recoil absorb up your arm. It’s your shoulders you need to relax. But loose wrists equal shitty aim. Here, give it a try.” I step aside and point to the furthest target across the room. “See if you can match my shot. Tight wrists, okay. Trust your strength.”
She widens her legs slightly as she positions her weapon.
“Don’t overthink it. Just shoot and trust,” I bark.
She exhales and yanks the trigger.
I cross the barn to examine her work. After ripping the paper off the steel board, I walk it back to her. “Look at that,” I say proudly, holding it up in her face. “Really, really close.”
Fiona’s mark is barely a millimeter off my shot. All the other holes in the target sheet were below the neck.
A look of awe painted across her face. She grabs the sheet from me as if she needs the proof in her hands. She opens her mouth to say something, but she’s interrupted by the barn doors ripping open once again.
Linc is standing there looking really pissed off. “Thought you ran,” he growls at me.
Standing next to him is a woman, clearly older than all of us. She’s dressed like Fiona, in all black, but they couldn’t look more different. She has straight, dark hair and pale skin that’s practically glowing off the moonlight. It’s a stark contrast to her ruby-red lips.
“Levi,” she says in a deep, husky tone. “I’m sorry. We need to take you back now. Get in the car. We’re meeting my contact in child services.”
Oh, shit.
Linc’s cold stare is on the ground. His icy demeanor is evidence he didn’t get his way. I’m grateful he tried.
I shake my head. “I… Please… I can make myself useful here. I don’t want to go into the system.” I also don’t want Colt’s gang poking around asking me where he went. Even if I were to escape child services, I’d end up biting the curb with a boot wedged into the back of my skull.
“Vesper,” Linc says, “I really think—”
Vesper raises her hand. “Levi has a better shot at a normal life if he forgets all of this. Colt will live, and his mother will live. He can’t disappear like the rest of us.” She looks at me. “Our way of life is a last resort, Levi. If you have a chance at anything else, you should take it. Please understand, I’m not trying to put you in harm’s way. I’m trying to keep you from it. You’ve been through enough.”
“But I…” I trail off, seeing the hard look in her eyes. Her decision has been made. Now, all I can do is let the fear and worry flood through my veins. What now? What the fuck am I going to do?
“He goes, I go,” Fiona says.
Four simple words that are barely above a whisper. But they ring through like a fucking bullhorn. I look at Fiona, my eyes wide.
“Look at this, Vesper.” She holds up the target sheet. “Not Linc, or even you could teach me how to do this. Levi taught me with two sentences. He needs us…and we need him. He stays. ” She meets my eyes. “If you want to, I mean.”
“I want to stay,” I say, looking back into her bright, emerald eyes. At first, my desire to stay was for safety. Now, it’s for an entirely different reason.
Vesper lets out a deep sigh. “Linc, if we take a vote, will it be two against one?”
“Yes,” he says. “He stays.”
“Then I won’t bother.” Vesper looks me right in the eye. “You understand Levi died tonight? That’s what we’re going to tell your brother when he wakes. We’ll get your mother to a safe place, and she’ll be taken care of, but you’ll have no more contact with her. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
I didn’t realize I wouldn’t get to see my mom again. Then again, at this point, she doesn’t even recognize me. Colt would never want to see me again, anyway. As far as I’m concerned, I’m in the hunt for a new family. “I understand,” I say.
Vesper hangs her head. “Welcome to PALADIN. Excuse me… Now I have a lot of phone calls to make.” She turns on her heel and stalks back to the main house.
“She’ll warm up,” Fiona says.
“That’s our boss?” I ask.
“Yes,” Linc answers.
“She hates me already. Wonderful.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Linc says. “In her mind, she just sentenced you to death, so she doesn’t feel great about it.”
“Thank you both,” I say. “For having my back. You don’t even know me.”
“We know how to spot one of our own.” Fiona smiles at me so wide, it sends a flood of nerves down my spine. Damn, that’s a beautiful smile. “Now, you need an operative name.”
Linc laughs. The sound kind of shocks me.
“You laugh?” I ask. “I didn’t think your model came with that feature.”
He goes back to scowling at my robot joke. “Yeah, yeah, sidekick. I’ve got a name for you.”