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I left the bar.
Anthony waited right outside the door with two guns at his side. “I knew you would need me, let’s go in there and—”
“I’m done.”
He blinked. “What?”
“I’m done.”
Sirens sounded off in the distance. Fire trucks and police would be here soon.
“You’re done?” Shocked, Anthony passed by me, opened the door, looked in, and then shut it quickly. “Fuck! You’re more than done. You obliterated them.”
I turned away from the bloodbath behind me, feeling the icy wind whip around us.
Earlier, the street had been nearly deserted, but now onlookers emerged from nearby buildings, drawn by the commotion. Their breaths formed clouds in the frigid air as they whispered and pointed toward the bar. They looked on in horror and fascination, probably trying to piece together the story from the snippets of the chaos they could glimpse.
“Let’s go.” I headed to the car, my steps crunching on the frost-covered ground.
“Damn. The Red Reaper is back!” Anthony rushed to my side. “So, we’re off to the suit spot?”
“No. I have another address to head to. It’s in Paradise City.”
“Oh good. Time to get some pussy?”
I frowned at him. “What?”
“It’s been five years. Right? Surely, you want some pussy. Paradise City has the best brothels.”
“I’m not going to fuck.” I made it to the car. “This is something else.”
“Oh.” He rushed with opening the driver’s door. “What’s the address?”
“5656 Beacon Road.” I gazed down at all the blood on my shirt, pants, and hands. “Damn it.”
There was no way I could see Zuri looking like this.
And of course, there was the police.
I had been so consumed with death and revenge I hadn’t thought through the maneuverings of what happened between the killings.
And now I had a new development.
I picked up the large envelope and slipped into the passenger’s seat, feeling the cold leather against my skin.
Anthony got inside the car. “Alright. We’ll be in Paradise soon.”
“No.” I frowned at the envelope, knowing the answers were there. Now these letters were burning a hole in my mind.
I have to read them.
Anthony cleared his throat. “What do you mean no?”
I looked up. “I have to change my clothes. I look like I killed somebody.”
“That you do.” Anthony started the car and sped off. “Okay. Cool. The Whisper has a nice condo for you downtown. It’s in a luxury building. You’ll have the best of—”
“No. I’ve got a guy that will provide me with everything I need.”
“Alright. Where’s that?”
I checked my watch. “Take me to Truman’s.”
“What’s that?”
I checked the rear-view mirror making sure no one was coming up behind us. “It’s a bookstore on 34th Street.”
“Cool. I think I know where you’re talking about.”
As we rounded the corner, the flashing lights of fire trucks and police cars greeted us, followed by the shrill sound of approaching emergency vehicles.
Anthony laughed. “If the Red Widow doesn’t know there’s a storm coming for her, then she’ll know soon.”
I scowled out the window. “She sure will.”
Anthony navigated the car through the crowded streets.
My vision blurred as I grappled with the weight of the shocking news.
I might have a kid—a part of me out there, alive, breathing, existing without my knowing.
The air in the car thinned. Each breath shifted to a struggle as the magnitude of this possible truth sunk in.
Marly better not be lying or I will revive his ass and then kill him again.
My heart pounded against my chest. It was a relentless drum.
We hit Main Street.
The block was transformed into a winter spectacle, with huge sparkling snowflakes adorning every street corner.
The daytime bustle of Shadow Heights was in full swing, but the holiday spirit added a layer of festive vibrancy to the usual urban rush. Families and shoppers, wrapped in their warmest winter attire, meandered through the streets. The air was filled with the sounds of daytime city life, now overlaid with the melodies of Christmas carols streaming from shop speakers and street performers.
Store windows along the street boasted festive displays, presenting winter scenes and holiday-themed wares that beckoned to passersby.
I caught scents of hot chocolate and spiced treats.
My stomach growled. Soon, I would have to get something to eat, but too much was happening for me to think of that now.
I gazed down at the envelope.
Anthony swerved around a slow-moving taxi. “So, if Paradise isn’t about pussy, then, what’s it about?”
I gritted my teeth. “My business.”
“Damn.” Anthony frowned. “I’ve heard tons of stories about you, Reaper, but no one ever told me how much you have a way with words. Probably would have been a poet, had you not picked up the gun.”
“Yet, I did pick up the gun.” I glared at him. “And I love to use it. Perhaps, focus on the road and not what I have going on in Paradise City.”
Anthony let out a long breath. “Yes, sir.”
I put my view back on the envelope.
