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God, what if he asked me my ‘number’?
My hand is linked in his and it feels like such an intimate gesture. It’s funny how I’m able to fall into some parts of this so naturally, yet my mind wars with my heart, telling me to stop the nonsense.
From the corner of my eye, I look at Killian, the strong set of his back and shoulders noticeable even in the dark and through layers of clothes.
Mmm. Maybe that’s why it’s so easy.
We walk in silence for a few more minutes until we get to the most cliche-looking rusted, metal door at the end of the row. A single light bulb flickers to the side, casting an ominous sepia glow. Kill leans forward and knocks twice.
I lick my lips, my body vibrating with something I’m not sure of. Excitement, maybe?
If this works, we will take all four of them out in one swoop.
If this works, I’ll finally have my revenge.
The door cracks open, and a man sticks his head out. The overwhelming scent of body odor comes with him and I crinkle my nose.
“Just you,” he says abruptly. Killian frowns and looks at me.
“I’ll be fine,” I say quickly. Me and my black belts have no problem waiting here.
He turns back to the man.
“No deal. Both of us or we walk,” Killian says firmly. The man narrows his eyes and gives me a dirty look, but opens the door wide enough for us both to go through. The entry is even darker than the alley, and I jump involuntarily when the heavy iron door closes behind us.
“This way,” the man says, not waiting to lead us down the hall. I fall in step beside Killian and feel his hand reach down to grab mine.
“What was that about?” I ask in a quiet voice. “I could have waited outside.”
Killian shakes his head and replies in an equally low voice, “Partners, remember?”
Despite how silly it is, the corner of my mouth turns up a fraction and I feel a light squeeze on my hand. What a strange concept.
We stand beside each other, looking down at the almost three-foot pipe bomb sitting on my bed. Neither of us make any move toward it, instead just staring at the devastating piece of explosive in front of us.
“It looks so… simple,” I finally say. Killian shrugs.
“It’s pretty similar to what was used in the Oklahoma City bombing. Basically, just saltpeter and manure and, like any other bomb, it reacts and explodes under pressure. It really is simple, but that doesn’t mean it won’t make a big boom.”
“Big ba-da-boom,” I quote absently, and he snorts.
“So, all we should have to do is place it in the right spot, then hit the button when the time is right and we know no one else is inside. I say we plant it Saturday night. Then we can keep tabs on Sunday when it's closed until we’re sure no one else is there,” he says.
I nod along. Three days. Three days and I take down the last four.
“It just seems like it’s cheating somehow.” I sigh.
“How do you figure?”
I throw my hands up and take a seat on the bed, keeping my distance from the bomb.
“Oh, I don’t know.”
Killian looks at me for a moment, before very gently picking up the bomb and moving it over to the table. He sits down beside me.
“I see those wheels turning, tell me.”
His hand takes mine, his thumb rubbing softly. I give him a wry look.
