Cason sighs. "Besides. What happened to the person that tried and failed to actually hit her? That wound looks like a through and through. At least it didn't hit her kidney or something."
I move us away from the door and go back toward the kitchen so there's no chance of the girls overhearing us. Dimitri heads straight for a cupboard above the stove and takes out a bottle of whiskey. He doesn't even bother with a glass as he cracks the seal and pulls from it. "I'll buy you another, Cason," he says as he swallows with a hiss and holds the bottle out to me.
I take it without a second thought and chug from it. Cason takes the bottle from me as I lower it and does the same, though not as deep of a drink as Dimitri and I took. "He's in my trunk. Probably ruining the material back there with his headshot. My poor baby. It's going to take so much time I don't have to get the blood out of everything."
Cason shakes his head. "I can't believe you brought all this trouble here. What are my neighbors going to think? We just moved in. We can't be the odd couple in the neighborhood."
I snort. "Don't worry, no one saw me bring her in, and as long as no one goes trying to take a joy ride in my car, they're not going to know about him either. I'll dispose of him far away from here. Take him out to Hart Island when it's safe to do so. Until then, he'll be in the family deep freeze."
Cason shakes his head as Dimitri takes the bottle from him. "I don't get why any of this is happening. The hit should've been simple. You're certain she's not scum? Grooming children for a ring or something?"
I shake my head. "Not unless she's doing it telepathically. She doesn't own a computer, smartphone, or tablet. She's mute from what I can tell, but I think she can hear. She literally went from home to work and back. She didn't hang out with people. On her day off she would stay at home and watch TV. She's not living life let alone being an active garbage human in any capacity."
Cason runs a hand over his face and scratches at his beard. He reaches into his pocket. "We should call Dad and let him know what's happening. He needs to know. Especially since you haven't sent him a confirmed kill photo for whoever the client is. I take over for him next month with setting up the arrangements and the money wiring, but until then, he's still in charge of it."
I put my hand over his, stopping him. "I don't know if we should. You know as well as me, he's been acting off lately. I mean he heard about you and Josie right after it happened and didn't bat an eye. A year ago he would've laid into you for that."
Cason shrugs. "He did say he had a fling with Juliet Kotov. So maybe he wasn't as serious about the promise our families had as he led us to think when we were younger."
Dimitri shudders. "Gross. I didn't need that image in my head." He drinks more from the bottle.
I look Cason in the eye. "What about at your house warming party? You can't tell me he wasn't acting off there. He kept hugging everyone, even people he didn't know. He didn't even hug us until a year ago. I hate to say it, but I think the man's age is catching up with him and you should take over fully sooner rather than later."
Cason grimaces and puts his phone back in his pocket. "Fine, I won't say anything, yet. But he's going to want to know what's up when he doesn't hear from you soon with an update, and the client isn't going to wait around long for a confirmation."
Dimitri hums. "Well, seeing as there was another hitman at your scene today, I would say that ship has already sailed. Or more than one person wants her dead."
The doorbell rings and I have to resist jumping out of my skin. Cason and I both move to get it. It's probably the doctor. I just hope he can patch her up without getting a hospital involved.
Chapter Two
Gwen
Voices surround me,but I don't recognize any of them. I was in my apartment. What the hell happened? I try to open my eyes but they flutter. A white ceiling above and someone stands over me. "This looks like a surface wound. You did a good job stopping the bleeding. We just need to give her something to keep her asleep while I do the stitches. I don't want her to jolt awake in the middle of it."
I try to move some fingers, anything to get my body to wake up more. The last thing I remember was laying on my couch watching a Spongebob marathon and being bored out of my mind, but I couldn't find anything better to watch. It wasn't like I could go do anything fun or make some friends. I have to lay as low as possible. I need to wake up more. I need to find out where I am. I can't be captured again. I worked too hard to get out.
A tear trails from my eye and down my cheek. I need to get up and get out of wherever I am. I'm not going back; I refuse to go back. Something pricks my arm.
"This should give her some relief from the pain and also have her sleeping for a few hours. It will give her body a chance to start healing, she's going to have to be careful with her movements for a few days. It's unfortunate that this is on her side. But she's lucky it didn't go deeper; it was super close to her kidney."
All at once, the voice grows fuzzy as I sink back into the comforting embrace of darkness where I can't feel anything.
Harold stands over me, his potbelly blocking out half his face from my place on the floor. Hot tears stream down my face, but I don't have the energy to fight any longer. My abdomen burns like a fire has scorched it. I can hardly get up the strength to feel it and see if my organs have come out of my body.
"You stupid, stupid girl. I've told you so many times, not to come out during my meetings and look where it has gotten you. Now you have to deal with that. Go clean yourself up and then clean up this mess."
"I'm sorry," I gasp as my vocal cords strain to work.
He kicks me in the thigh with his steel-toed boot. "You should be. Now get moving!"
My body protests every little movement as I flip myself over and use my hands to push myself to my feet. I stare down at my shirt in tatters as blood flows from a gash in my stomach. My organs aren't coming out, doesn't look deep enough for that, but it feels like it is.
Of course, the bastard would never cut deep enough to kill me, just leave a scar as a reminder of my punishment and to make sure no one will ever want me after they see how disgusting I look.
"Get moving! Clean this floor up before yourself. This will teach you to listen!"
Will it? I was trying to provoke him so he would kill me. I guess I'll have to keep trying.
