“Alive and breathing.”
“We’re coming down. Don’t shoot.” It was Bain’s voice.
He came unceremoniously down the stairs. Boss was behind him, but came forward, running a hand through his hair. “Go around to the rear. Maurice says the getaway car is a blue Jaguar. He’s watching our grid on satellite. Harb has one alive upstairs. No one escapes. Understand?”
Viper came down next with an AR ready to go.
“What about Cleo?” Priest asked.
“If you want to keep her, I suggest you don’t let her get shot.” Then Boss, Bain, and Viper used the door into the foyer, disappearing into the smoke.
Shit.
“Stay close to me,” he said. Priest moved quickly down the hallway toward the emergency exit at the rear of the building. He had to get to the blue Jaguar before their enemies. This was more than just eliminating a threat. It was ensuring Cleo could live without being constantly targeted. Whoever wanted her dead was about to regret it.
He burst out the metal door, doing a sweep across the darkened parking lot with his gun. After a quick walk through, he spotted the car.
“Get in,” he said, holding open the passenger door. Priest slid across the hood and got behind the driver’s seat. He pulled off the lower panel and began to hotwire the car. It purred to life, and it was almost a shame he planned to fuck up this classic car. He popped the trunk and waited.
“Now what?” she asked. Cleo had been unusually quiet and a few shades paler than usual. He wanted to get her somewhere safe. When the car jostled abruptly, Cleo screamed.
“It’s okay. It’s just Harb.”
He dumped the living dead man into the trunk and slammed it shut. Then he walked around to the driver’s side window. Priest lowered it.
“Update.”
“The guys corralled what’s left of the others at the front. We’re good. Boss says to bring this one to the warehouse. We’ll meet you there,” Harb said.
Priest nodded and then immediately drove out of the lot, heading toward the place Boss liked them to use for their messier interrogations.
“What happens now?” she asked. “Do we go back to the safe house?”
“Boss wants you relocated. We’ll find out our next move after we meet up again.”
“My father? Do you know if he’s still alive?”
It always amazed him how parents held such esteem with kids, even when they’d royally fucked them over. He’d seen it time and time again. Cleo may claim not to care about her roots, but he knew her better than that. She craved that connection, a sense of belonging even he couldn’t give her. It pissed him off knowing her happiness was in the hands of a sociopath. It would have been better for Target never to make contact, to let her live her life without knowing all the filthy details surrounding him.
“I’m sure he’s fine. Things went down fast.”
“That’s good, right?”
“We had a lot of big players upstairs. They know how to handle themselves,” Priest said. He pulled onto the freeway shortly afterward. At this time of night, it was clear driving. So much was on his mind, so he just focused on the road ahead of him, zoning out.
When Cleo spoke a while later, breaking the hush and rhythmic drone of the engine, it startled him.
“You’re upset about something my father did. Who did he kill?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Why can’t you tell me? If you mean what you say and want to be with me, shouldn’t you open up more? I still feel like we’re strangers in so many ways. I’ve given you everything. My whole life is an open book whether I like it or not. I don’t have a team of spies, killers, and hackers to do my bidding.”
There was no point keeping everything from her. She’d find out one way or another. Harb already proved to have a big mouth he couldn’t keep shut. Priest wasn’t good at relationships and had never been a playboy. He needed to step up or he’d end up losing Cleo. “When my family and brothers of the church were slaughtered, I had to live with that pain. Alone. The only thing keeping me sane, giving me any sort of focus, was planning my revenge. Boss promised me the name of the man responsible for the massacre when I first signed on with Killer of Kings. The only problem was that once he actually found the information, the men had already been killed—by Target, your father.”
“Isn’t that a good thing? I mean, that they’re all dead?”
“No! It should have been me. Instead, it was just another bullet for Target, an order to eliminate the competition. Nothing more.”