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I can barely understand it. A world without Grandpop makes no sense. I’m numb as I help Lanzo out the back door. He’s a mess too, his shirt slowly getting drenched with blood. He’s in pain, grimacing with each step. He needs medical attention, and if I can’t focus on what’s in front of me, then I might lose him, too.
Both the men I love, gone in a day.
I can’t let it happen.
I force myself to get it together. I bring my attention back to Lanzo, forcing myself to remain in the moment. “You’re okay,” I whisper, squeezing his arm tightly.
“I should be saying that to you.” He looks at me with pure sadness in his eyes. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t do this.” I blink back more tears. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”
He nods like he hopes that’s true.
Outside, in the back yard, men stand in a semi-circle near the back fence. It’s eerily quiet, like the birds I grew up listening to are all gone now. This yard, I played in this yard all my life. That swing, that bird bath. The overgrown weeds, the huge bushes. It’s mine, but it’s also not mine, made strange by the men I don’t recognize, until one turns toward us.
It’s Ford Arc. His face sends a jolt into my spine. I thought Lanzo had kept him from this. Then another Atlas man looks over and turns. It’s Evander Kazan. I thought he was in Chicago. And that man beside him, that’s Gareth Kane, the lawyer. It’s a shock to my system. I had no clue they were here today, no clue they’d be involved in the assault on that toy store. The assault that won’t ever happen now.
They’re all here. All five of them, the five Atlas brothers, standing together. They look like a band of marauders, like a group of armed Viking warriors, big and glorious, made bigger and more glorious now that they’re together.
They’re gathered around an unmoving body.
Burian’s corpse. Riddled with bullets, leaking blood.
Dead, very much dead.
Lanzo stands still, staring down at the assassin. Nobody speaks at first. I can’t find any words either. I never imagined this would happen, that Burian would be caught, that the threat would be neutralized. The price seems too high, way too high, and I don’t know how I’m going to get past this, but I feel Lanzo’s emotions shivering through his body, like he can’t control himself.
And I’m almost happy. Or like the echo of happiness.
“Who got him?” Lanzo asks, breaking the tense silence.
“Evander,” Carmine says. “The fucking lucky prick.”
“Lucky?” Evander’s voice is a rumble. “I can actually aim, unlike you pathetic bastards.”
“Please, you’re an awful shot.” Gareth nudges him. “But yeah, Evander did it.”
“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” Lanzo looks up. “Murder always was your thing.”
Evander grins wolfishly and shrugs. “I never minded it, if that’s what you mean.”
Another silence. They brothers say nothing as they inspect the body at their feet.
“He had no clue we were here,” Ford says, sounding mildly surprised. “For a super-assassin, you’d think he would’ve checked.”
“I don’t think he ever imagined you three would be involved.” Lanzo’s frown deepens. “Burian worked alone. And I did too, for a very long time.”
“What changed your mind?” Gareth asks.
He glances at me. “I realized that I’m better when I have help. When I’m with the people I care about.”
Another silence. The man all stare down at the body like they’re absorbing Lanzo’s proclamation.
Finally, Ford says, “Well, that was super lame, but we’re happy you’re back,” he says.
The man all laugh, some of the tension releasing.
I squeeze Lanzo’s arm tightly. “You need a doctor,” I say quietly. “We have to get moving.”
