“Fuck,” I hear someone say outside the door, before their voice rises. “WE’RE COMING. START COMPRESSIONS.”
“WHAT?” I say with a breathy tone. “I . . . I . . . I DON’T KNOW HOW.”
“YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO STRADDLE HIM. HANDS BRACED TOGETHER OVER HIS CHEST AND START PUSHING. JUST LIKE IN THE MOVIES.”
Ahh fuck.
I guess I’m going to do CPR on the dead guy.
Climbing up onto his bed, I straddle him, brace my hands together like the nurse explained, and start compressions. “IS THIS RIGHT?” I call in a panic, glancing over my shoulder to the window in the door and watching as they madly scramble to free whatever is jamming the door.
“YES! THAT’S IT. KEEP GOING. THIRTY COMPRESSIONS, AND THEN YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO ADMINISTER A BREATH.”
Oh fuck, no. Over my dead, assassinated body am I putting my lips on this motherfucker and breathing into his lungs. Who knows what kind of diseases this cheating bastard had.
Security arrives and starts trying to break down the door when the nurse yells through the door. “BREATHE.”
Fuck.
Cringing, I lean down over him, blocking his nose and grasping hischin, forgetting that I’m supposed to be pretending that I don’t know what to do, but hell, I’m in the moment. I give two breaths and feel his lungs inflate before moving straight back to compressions. “HURRY!” I cry, working up a sweat as the heart rate monitor catches my untimed compressions. “HE CAN’T DIE! PLEASE!”
It takes almost two minutes before security is able to bust down the door, and the second the room is flooded by doctors, nurses, and security, I’m pushed aside and told to wait outside.
I cry and cry, tears streaming down my face as someone grabs me. “Miss, how did the door get jammed? Who did it?”
I let out an exaggerated wail, my heart all but falling out of my chest and splattering against the sterile hospital linoleum, and honestly, with the amount of tears welling in my eyes, I can’t even tell if it’s a man or woman holding on to me.
“Save him,” I sob, clutching onto the person’s arm and squeezing, snot now starting to run as I excel in my performance, knowing there’s not a chance in hell they will revive that man. “Please! Save my uncle.”
The person, who I now see is a woman, looks between me and Preston before cringing and deciding to let me go, assuming they’ll be able to question me once the situation is under control, and the second all eyes fall away, I slip out of the room and run for the fucking hills, a shoutedclearechoing down the hallway behind me.
Getting back to my apartment complex in no time, I’m filled with nothing but steaming hot rage. I’m not just going to kill him, I’m going to gut him like a goddamn fish, and I’ll enjoy every second of it.
Pulling into the underground parking garage, I don’t even bother to glance up as I pass the horizontally parked Audi across my parking space and continue on to my new space of 410, only the once vacant space is now occupied by hundreds of empty moving boxes.
I scream until my throat hurts, slamming my hands against the steering wheel and trying to sort through just a fraction of the frustration that burns through me.
I stare at the boxes, not willing to get out of my car and move them, so instead, I simply back up and double park Raiden, leaving absolutely no way for him to get out of his ridiculous little spot, not without at least taking out both my car and his in the process. And in that case, I dare him. If anybody is going to take out my car, it’ll be me.
Satisfied that I’ve at least done something to get back at him, I make my way up the emergency stairs, not having the patience to stand still and wait for the elevator, and just as I reach the third floor, my phone rings.
Taking the call, I immediately hear Milan’s voice in my ear. “What the fuck is going on? Did you accept a local job for a hundred grand?”
“Yep.”
“Wait. What? This doesn’t make sense,” she says, just as I approach Raiden’s door and come to an immediate stop. “Did you do it or what? Because some other agency is claiming they completed the hit.”
“I’m gonna have to call you back.”
“Wha—”
My foot slams against the door, and the woodsplinters just as mine had yesterday, only this time, I can guarantee, I won’t be the one cleaning the mess.
Storming straight into Raiden’s apartment, I find him leaning up against the kitchen counter, as though he’d been waiting for me to come looking, and as I storm right up to him, he just smirks. “Something you need, Firecracker?”
The rage is like nothing I’ve ever known, and as I grab his shoulders, I jump, flying right up into his strong arms and locking my legs around him. “Fuck me, you giant asshole, and you better make it hard.”
And with that, he turns on his heel and walks straight into his bedroom, my lips already crushing down on his.
