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“I can try and do the hack again.” I hold my hands out. “Just let me try to—”
“Time’s up. Sorry, friend.” He gives me a look that seems sincerely apologetic, but he doesn’t drop the gun. “You know the rules.”
“Laura, if you don’t fix this, we can’t be friends anymore.” Ariadne points at her. “I mean it. No more food from my pantry, no more chats by the fire, and you are not allowed to ever set foot in my house again. I will never speak to you as long as we live, and Imeanit.”
“You can’t be serious.” Laura gets to her feet, her hands on her hips. “After all the time we’ve been friends, you’re going to choose him over me?”
“I want both of you, but that scary man is going to kill him because of you! You have to fix this or it’s over between us.”
“Angel, you need to get out of here. Back away. I love you, and I always will, but this is my problem.” I pull her to my side and kiss her. “Go.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” She kicks her chin up. “Because Laura is going to give up the goods to this guy.”
“I erased it.” Laura throws her hands up.
“And you didn’t make a copy?” I ask again. I’m having a hard time concentrating when my eyes are constantly drawn back to the gun barrel pointed at me.
“Of course I did.” Laura makes apfftsound.
“Give it to the killer guy right now, or we aredone.” Ariadne crosses her arms and stares Laura down.
Laura returns Ariadne’s glare for some tense seconds that seem to last forever, then reaches between the couch cushions and pulls out … knitting needles and yarn?
“What?” She tosses those, then reaches in again and pulls out a small hard drive. “It’s all on here. USB and the bigger drive are separated in folders.” Walking to Heath, she drops it in his hand.
“This is great. It really is.” He tucks it in the pocket of his overcoat. “But I have instructions that if Brendan didn’t do the drop at the parade, that I have to take him out.”
“Just tell them he delivered.” Laura doesn’t seem the least bit put off by the gun or the killer.
“They’ll know.” He shakes his head. “You know that.”
“Well, tell them you got the data and as a Christmasmiracle, you spared this guy.”
He seems to consider it.
“Please, don’t kill me. I finally got the girl I love, and I really want to spend more time with her.” I swallow hard, my mouth dry.
“Love.” He smirks and lowers the gun. “It’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” My voice is shaky, but I can finally take a breath now that the gun isn’t pointed at my face. This is going to work out.
When he raises the gun and fires, I’m knocked back into the wall by the fireplace, pain roaring through me as I crash to the floor.
18
ARIADNE
A few weeks later
Christmas Eve
“What are you doing?” I yell at Brendan. “I told you I was going to do that.” In hindsight maybe I shouldn't yell at someone up on a ladder, but I was scared. He shouldn’t be up there. His side is still healing. Even though he only sustained a flesh wound from where the hitman had shot him, he was still supposed to be taking it easy. The memory of that is not something I think I’ll ever get over. I remind myself every day that it could have been worse. I’d rather him be on this ladder where I can yell at him than the alternative.
“You really think I’d let you up on a ladder in this weather?” he asks, shaking his head at me before finishing screwing in the broken white bulb. “There.” He starts to climb back down the ladder.
“Where’s your coat?” He looks me over.
It’s Christmas Eve, so of course I’m in flannel pajamas. I went as far as getting Brendan matching ones, which I’m going to let him open tonight. I don’t have any other winter gear on except for my boots that I slid on quickly when I went in search of Brendan to begin with. I knew when I couldn't find him anywhere that he had to be outside messing with the lights. He wouldn't have just left the house without telling me or asking if I needed something. I am even more clingy now after all that happened. I didn’t think I could get worse, but I have. Brendan doesn’t mind it, and it makes me happy, so I don’t see a problem with it. Some people might think it’s strange, but they already think that about me anyway, so who cares?
