Chapter Nineteen #3
There had been three factions down in that basement of torture.
Two had been far larger than Czar’s. He’d kept his coalition very small.
No one had wanted the small territory that was designated Czar’s.
What they hadn’t realized was that it was under the kitchen and was warmer.
There’d been several perks to their little space the others knew nothing of.
Mostly, they couldn’t be spied on. No one could reach them without their awareness.
Czar had them spend nearly every minute of the day when they were together training to stay alive.
The guard was approaching, but his gaze was on Declan, the man he was protecting, another mistake.
One didn’t need to look at the client; the bodyguards should have been scanning for trouble.
Keys faded back against the wall. He didn’t want to chance the Ghost with Declan looking up and spotting him.
He waited in the corner for the guard to continue along the mezzanine.
Barely breathing, not moving, fading into the wall until he was a part of it.
Keys went over every move in his mind. The guard had to die without a single sound.
Declan and the two Ghosts left couldn’t be warned.
As the guard came toward Keys, the man’s gaze was fixed on the floor below.
He clearly felt safe because he’d gone through the rooms behind him and deemed them unoccupied.
He hadn’t checked windows. This particular Ghost would have been eaten alive in the Sorbacov school Keys had attended.
He had to be someone’s relative. Someone important.
Someone who kept him alive, because even in those other schools, children died.
Every member of Torpedo Ink had suffered torture and rape to keep the others alive.
All of them. Even when they were no more than toddlers.
No one was considered a weak link. Every one of them had pulled their weight. Again, Keys attributed that to Czar.
Even at a young age, Czar seemed to be able to discern who would be loyal no matter the pressure put on them.
Who would be willing to suffer and die for the others.
He chose newcomers very carefully. All of them had learned to trust his judgment.
If he said no to anyone, he wasn’t questioned.
They might not agree, but the truth was, every single time, Czar had been proven right when it came to character.
The guard walked right past him. Keys stepped close behind him, slammed his knife home at the base of the skull while his hand covered the Ghost’s mouth, keeping any sound from escaping.
The guard didn’t have a gun out, so there was no dropped weapon to alert those below.
Keys dragged the man backward into the closest bedroom, laid him gently on the floor facedown, and retrieved his knife.
He wiped the blade on the man’s suit jacket before leaving, closing the door after himself.
There was no way to know if the stairs creaked.
He had to make his way downstairs into the great room, where Declan lounged like he was king of the world in the comfortable recliner.
He had one guard in the room with him, and somewhere, a second one was concealed.
Keys wasn’t counting on an easy victory.
Just because the one upstairs had skated through his training didn’t mean the others had.
If anything, it meant they’d been strong enough to get him through.
Third down, he reported. Will possibly need distraction to get downstairs undetected.
Do we care if they know you’re coming at this point? Master asked.
We’re on the clock and have to get it done fast, Maestro confirmed.
More chance of one of us taking a hit, Keys reminded them. We’re on the clock, but we play it safe. Either one of you goes home with a scratch, and your wives might do me in.
He has a point, Maestro concurred. Master, your wife is a lethal little tiger. None of us want to have that little vicious pixie coming after us.
Lana’s soft laughter moved through Keys’ mind. Badass biker boy assassins are scared of a little woman. That’s just rich.
We’re scared of you too, Lana, Master pointed out.
Keys found himself laughing. It was silent, but no less hilarious.
He had never fully appreciated his brothers and sisters until he’d found Lyric.
In the six months he had been pursuing Lyric, without even realizing that was what he’d been doing, she’d taught him to enjoy the moments they were in.
He’d always been on guard. In control. Looking ahead or behind.
Lyric lived each moment fully, and she had given him that.
He found living the way Lyric did made him feel alive.
Aware. He was able to see clearly the people he’d grown up with.
It allowed him to fully appreciate everything about them.
He had always known he’d held himself apart and presented a mask of who they thought he was.
He hid the monster he believed himself to be.
Keys didn’t connect with others easily. There was no trust, even when every member of Torpedo Ink had earned it.
He realized that wasn’t exactly true. He did trust them.
It was himself he didn’t trust. His coping mechanism had been to distance himself from everyone.
To not care. Caring meant pain. Betrayal.
It was necessary for self-preservation to keep a space between him and everyone else.
By doing that, he found himself capable of monstrous acts.
The rage in him was buried deep, but it was there and it was intense.
How had Lyric reached him when no one else had?
People who had his back since childhood?
There was guilt that he hadn’t been able to connect, when the Torpedo Ink members deserved it far more than a woman he’d only known for six months.
How could he love Lyric so deeply, so fast, when he had avoided his feelings for his entire life?
Sometimes life doesn’t make sense, he told the others.
It doesn’t always have to, Lana said. That’s what I realized. We question everything because we’ve always had to in order to stay alive. But Blythe doesn’t. She’s happy. Even when things aren’t perfect with Czar and her, she’s happy because she lets herself be happy.
Was that the key? Allowing oneself to be happy? It seemed too simple. But did he want to die with the regret that he had lived his life refusing to be vulnerable to others because he was afraid of being betrayed? That would be a long, lonely life.
Keys made his way to the top of the stairs, testing each step before he placed his weight.
He was a big man. Dense. A lot of muscle.
It wasn’t as if he could disappear on a staircase.
He would have to crawl down like a lizard if he was going to be unseen.
The worry was that there were two Ghosts left, not one.
He could easily kill Declan’s guard and intended to do so the moment he had a clear path to him.
He was good with throwing knives, and so far, the man had stayed in the same spot, back in the shadows, in a corner, covered on three sides. He thought himself safe.
Keys practiced the movement in his mind.
He would have to throw the knife and then leap for safety, assuming Declan would be armed with a gun.
That meant landing where Declan couldn’t see him clearly.
He chose his spot. He’d made it down several stairs on his belly.
The Ghost in the corner hadn’t stirred. In fact, he was too still, which meant his alarms were going off.
“Declan, it’s time to move you to the closet where we’ve prepared a safe room.” That voice came from the other side of the room. Keys had no visual.
Do you have that Ghost in your sight? he asked Master. They were all converging on the great room and their main target, but like Keys, Maestro had to make his way downstairs.
I don’t have a visual on any of them, Lana reported.
At least these Ghosts had heeded their training. Keys had no idea why, but it made him feel better. They weren’t going up against total amateurs.
“I’m quite comfortable right where I am, Orlov,” Declan said, a small note of contempt in his voice.
“There are five of you. Five more going to acquire the woman. I think you should be able to handle any threat without me having to be concerned enough to go spend time in a closet. I hired you because you’re considered the best. Just get your job done. ”