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Fuck fuck fuck.
The mourners were all down now, one of the women crying while others covered their heads, some of the men prone and silent.
Warm liquid spread across Roman’s chest, the scene receding as unconsciousness tried to claim him. He reached for his gun again, barely able to grasp it as one of the men in black marched toward him with his weapon drawn.
Roman squeezed off a couple of rounds before the gun fell to the ground, but he must have missed because the man was still going, raising his weapon, pointing it at Roman…
Another shot rang out, and Roman waited for the relief of death, was surprised when the other man fell, a shadowy figure silhouetted by the sun approaching behind him.
It was all blurry now, the buzzing in Roman’s head calling him like a siren.
He looked up at the sky and thought of Ruby, hoped his father had been killed too.
Hoped that Ruby would be happy, that she would be free.
Then, there was nothing.
38
Ruby
She was halfway through the movie when her phone buzzed with a breaking news alert.
She picked it up half-heartedly — the real world had seemed far away since she’d entered Roman’s — then felt her heart stutter in her chest when she read the headline.
Active shooter reported at a cemetery in Brooklyn, NY. Shelter-in-place order issued for area.
She jumped to her feet with her phone in hand, fumbling to click through to the story.
Active shooter reported in Brooklyn, NY.
Gunfire reported at funeral of Russian Oligarch Vladimir Orlov. The New York Police Department has issued an active shooter warning for the Green-Wood Cemetery area in Brooklyn NY. Shelter in place.
This story is breaking and will be updated.
She read the brief twice, a single word ringing in her mind.
No.Then…Please god… No.
She dialed her sister.
39
Adam
Adam was putting another load of laundry in the washer — he’d had no idea how much laundry one fucking kid could generate — when his phone buzzed with an incoming text from his partner Deon.
Active shooter in Brooklyn. Stand by.
Fuck. That was the last thing he needed. He tried not to take shifts on the weekend when Olivia was home from school, not because he didn’t need the break — god knew he needed the break — but because then he had to ask Mrs. Camus, the old bat next door, to watch her.
Olivia liked going to Mrs. Camus’s apartment, but Adam didn’t want it thrown in his face during a future custody hearing that he’d pawned Olivia off on a neighbor while he worked instead of letting Ruby’s dad and cunt sister watch her.
He saw the breaking news alert about the active shooter — missed when he’d started the dryer — and clicked on it, hoping to gauge the seriousness of the situation.
Then he saw Vladimir Orlov’s name, thought about Igor Kalashnik. He knew that Igor’s son — Erik, not that motherfucker Roman — was engaged to Vladimir’s daughter, and that meant they traveled in the same circles.
Adam smelled a Mob hit.
