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They put their guns back in their holsters like they were cowboys before Michael offered his hand for the other operative to shake. Dizziness washed over me, and I realized I had been holding my breath as if there wasn’t enough air in the room. I braced my hands on the table, blinking fast while I sucked in air.
“Hey…” Stephen sat me down in the chair gently. “He’s okay. Not a scratch on him. See? He’s walking around. They’re dead—the guys who were after you. See? That’s the one that was going to marry you.”
I wiped at my eyes and stared at Konstantin on the screen. “I think I’ve just been holding onto the idea that something was going to go terribly wrong, and now I’m dizzy from it. Yes, he’s okay. He’sokay. What happens now?”
Stephen squatted in front of me. “They have to clean up. Why don’t you go get some water and then I’ll put you on the phone with him. I might be fired for letting you watch, but probably not. He loves me, and you’ve seen how loyal he is to those he values. He’ll just glare at me.”
I laughed, then pressed my knuckles against my lips. Tito still stared at the screen, and he hadn’t said a word or turned around. Maybe he was processing, too. Those men had been through a lot of shit. Who knew what watching that would do to them?
On steady legs—thank goodness—I walked to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. The water got me thinking about stocks. It was funny how things came to me sometimes. When I studied the markets every day, I could see patterns and make decisions based on them. It wasn’t high level math most of the time, just intuition, but if I took a step back from it and watched from the outside, sometimes I had more of a breakthrough. Then I could really tell what to expect it to do the next day. The next week. The next year.
My mind replayed Tito’s bouncing leg during the gunfire—why didn’t he seem happy it was over? He seemed fixated, I thought, remembering his body language.
I put down my water abruptly. Without asking myself too much why, I sprinted to the gun armoire in Michael’s living room. I couldn’t remember him loading his gun before he left, so I hoped that meant it was loaded in the cupboard.
As quietly as I could, I opened the armoire. He’d left it unlocked—probably intending to put his own gun away within a few minutes of getting back home. Hopefully, he would come back and then laugh because I thought I needed a gun. He’d take it away from me, sure, but he totally wouldn’t think I was a madwoman. That was the best-case scenario.
My gut said I wouldn’t have to explain why I thought I needed a gun.
I tended to be right when I saw patterns, when I obsessed, when I couldn’t let go of a thought. I was right normally, and I probably was right now, too.
My gut said something was wrong with Tito.
I grabbed a gun, but Michael would likely have been annoyed to realize I didn’t know what kind of gun I grabbed. Whatever, it wasn’t like it normally came up in my life. I learned how to shoot to protect myself, per Michael’s orders. I knew how to hold, point, and shoot a weapon. I would prefer not to ever shoot one again, but it didn’t mean I didn’t know how. I knew enough about the weapon in my hands—it was a handgun and it was loaded. It was all I needed to know.
With it firmly in my hands, cocked, safety off and ready to go, I walked back to the office.
“Why are you doing this?” Stephen asked in a low voice, and I wasn’t surprised to see he talked to Tito. He held his arms up in surrender as Tito pointed a gun, point blank, at the center of his chest.I bet he knows the name of his gun.
I swallowed, watching the scene play out from down the hall. Tito shook his head at Stephen. “I don’t want to kill you. Ilikeyou, man, I do. But the boss said I had to take care of her today if Michael managed to survive the hit. I have no choice, and you’ve gotta understand that. I can’t get her with you here. Sorry, man.”
He fired, and I jumped.Oh my god. Stephen had just been shot.Oh fuck. Is he dead?I have to think, think. Somehow, I had to think, but it was hard with the blood rushing in my ears with a whoosh of sound.
Tito spun toward the hallway and came up short, the gun still in his hand. “So, you saw that? That’s okay. You would’ve probably heard it anyway. Where’d you get a gun? You are smart, though, I’ll give you that. Not sure what else you have going on that makes Michael soobsessedwith you, but it doesn’tmatter. He’ll mourn you for a while and finally find someone more worthwhile. Someone better suited for him.”
I swallowed. “You’ve really given his love life a lot of thought.”I have to think.There was something I should do, I just had to do it. What was it I should do?
“More thought than it probably deserves, that’s for damn sure.” He lifted his own gun, gesturing toward me with it. “You’ll never fire that. You’re just pathetic that way. You know that, right?”
He just shot Stephen and he is going to kill me. I thought it and squeezed, my thumb curling around the trigger and pulling it back with a click and pop of sound.
I shot him.
Right in the face.
Oh, it was such a mess. That was all I could think while my hand trembled in front of me. How did I get him before he got me? I didn’t know. My mind whirled. It roared. I couldn’t hear anything because my ears were ringing like I’d just been in an explosion. My head felt light, disconnected.
No matter.I dropped the gun and ran into the office. Stephen lay on the floor. Gut shot, I realized. Tito was mean. I shook my head. “Hang in there, Stephen.”
He looked up at me. His eyes were glazed. That couldn’t be good. Blood seemed to be everywhere. I put my hand on his stomach. “This is going to be okay.” I was glad that I could speak. He didn’t seem to be able to, and I could hardly think, but there were things to be done.
Michael said the only way to get out if you were hurt was a helicopter.The memory hit me with crystal clear resolution, so I grabbed Stephen’s phone. He had Michael’s number. In fact, he’d just texted—it must be the contact titledBoss. I clicked on it and heard the ring.
“What’s up?” Michael’s face appeared via the camera. I could see him over Stephen’s head as though he were right there with me.
But he wasn’t.
“It’s Bridget.” I managed to say, but my teeth chattered.
