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The man starts to take a step toward me. He doesn't make it another foot before his body drops to the floor as blood splatters across the kitchen. I look down at my shirt that has tiny little red specks all over it now.
“I love this shirt,” I say before Heath grabs a hold of my arm and pulls me from the kitchen.
“I’ll get you a new one.”
“It’s vintage.”
He stops to look down at me. “What am I going to do with you?” He shakes his head.
My heart drops. My mom used to say that, but hearing it come from him brings up that old hurt. I try and jerk from his hold, but he doesn't let me go. “Keep you safe, Lena. That’s what I’m going to do,” he says before he pulls me down the basement stairs.
14
HEATH
The call came when I was at my place brewing coffee. It was Sister Jezebel again, her voice laying out my assignment in clipped tones.
“Do you accept?” she asked.
I stared out the window at Lena’s house. She was probably still sleeping, her red hair tousled and her lips parted. If I didn’t come back to her, she would worry. Hell, she might even have a panic attack. I grabbed my coffee cup and realized my choice had already been made. The moment I saw her, the decision was done. I wanted a life with her. But to have that, I’d have to walk away from everything I’d ever known.
“Sister?”
“Yes,” she snapped back.
“I hereby tender my resignation.”
The line was quiet for a long time, until she said, “Are you certain, Brother? You know what this means?”
“I do.” I drank my coffee, singeing my tongue slightly. “I’m ready.”
“I’ll pass the word along. Please expect company within the hour. For what it’s worth, it’s been a pleasure working with you. Rest in peace, Brother.” The line went dead.
“They arrived quicker than I thought.” I pull Lena down into the dark basement.
“What? That guy?” She gives a half-hearted yank, trying to break my hold on her.
“I think they already suspected I was going to refuse this job.” I lead her to the brick foundation that would seem to be the end of the basement. But the small air duct in the brick is the tell--there’s a room behind it.
I open one of bricks, its façade swinging free and a keypad revealed beneath it.
“What is that?” She stops trying to free herself from my grip. “What--”
The locks click over after I enter the correct code, and the narrow door opens. The lights turn on, their glow giving me a view of Mildred’s formidable collection.
“Why is this here? What is this?” She stares open-mouthed at the armory. “And you!” She points at Jinx, who sits on the end of a rocket launcher. “This is how you get out, isn’t it?” He licks his paw, and the floorboards overhead creak. They’re swarming my house and hers, and it’s only a matter of time until they find us. We have to move.
“Stay close.” I swing the door shut and spin the locking mechanism before turning to the lighted display. “Take this.” I grab a small pistol, check that it’s loaded, and turn off the safety before handing it to her.
She grabs it, but then holds it as if it’s a piece of dirty laundry. “Why are there guns? Why?”
I snatch a holster from the wall and strap it around myself, then choose the weapons I like best while I explain. “I’m an assassin. Your grandmother? An assassin. Mrs. Winsten’s husband? He was an assassin. Most of the people who live on this street are either in the life or retired from it.”
“Wait, what?” She absentmindedly pets Jinx while shaking her head. “You’re saying words, but none of them go together. It’s all ridiculous.”
“We’re members of the Brotherhood.”
“But Mildred is a woman.” She holds up a finger like an Agatha Christie heroine.
