The Hit

Breakwater Harbor Books

Presents:

The Hit

By

Mindy Haig

Copyright © 2018 by Mindy Haig

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This novel is fictional work. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the authors’ imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, or persons, living, dead, or otherwise is entirely coincidental.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS:

PROLOGUE: MICHAEL - October 1995

CHAPTER 1: JOHN - Thursday, May 10, 2001

CHAPTER 2: MICHAEL - Thursday, May 10, 2001

CHAPTER 3: JOHN - Thursday, May 10, 2001

CHAPTER 4: MICHAEL - Friday, May 11, 2001

CHAPTER 5: DEE - Friday, May 11, 2001

CHAPTER 6: JOHN - Friday, May 11, 2001

CHAPTER 7: DEE - Friday, May 11, 2001

CHAPTER 8: DELIA - Friday, May 11, 2001

CHAPTER 9: MICHAEL - Friday, May 11, 2001

CHAPTER 10: JOHN - Friday, May 11, 2001

CHAPTER 11: DEE - Friday, May 11, 2001

CHAPTER 12: DELIA - Saturday, May 12, 2001

CHAPTER 13: DEE - Saturday, May 12, 2001

CHAPTER 14: WES - Saturday, May 12, 2001

CHAPTER 15: DELIA - Saturday, May 12, 2001

CHAPTER 16: MICHAEL - Saturday, May 12, 2001

CHAPTER 17: DEE - Saturday, May 12, 2001

CHAPTER 18: JOHN - Saturday, May 12, 2001

CHAPTER 19: DELIA - Saturday, May 12, 2001

CHAPTER 20: WES - Saturday, May 12, 2001

CHAPTER 21: MICHAEL - Saturday, May 12, 2001

CHAPTER 22: JOHN- Saturday, May 12, 2001

CHAPTER 23: MICHAEL - Saturday, May 12, 2001

CHAPTER 24: DEE - Saturday, May 12, 2001

CHAPTER 25: DELIA - Sunday, May 13, 2001

CHAPTER 26: MICHAEL - Sunday, May 13, 2001

CHAPTER 27: DEE - Sunday, May 13, 2001

CHAPTER 28: WES - Sunday, May 13, 2001

CHAPTER 29: MICHAEL - Sunday, May 13, 2001

CHAPTER 30: DELIA - Sunday, May 13, 2001

CHAPTER 31: WES - Sunday, May 13, 2001

CHAPTER 32: DELIA - Sunday, May 13, 2001

CHAPTER 33: DEE - Sunday, May 13, 2001

CHAPTER 34: JOHN - Monday, May 14, 2001

CHAPTER 35: DELIA - Monday, May 14, 2001

CHAPTER 36: JOHN - Monday, May 14, 2001

CHAPTER 37: DEE - Monday, May 14, 2001

CHAPTER 38: WES - Monday, May 14, 2001

CHAPTER 39: MICHAEL - Monday, May 14, 2001

CHAPTER 40: WES - Tuesday, May 15, 2001

CHAPTER 41: JOHN - Tuesday, May 15, 2001

CHAPTER 42: DELIA - Tuesday, May 15, 2001

CHAPTER 43: MICHAEL - Tuesday, May 15, 2001

CHAPTER 44: WES - Tuesday, May 15, 2001

CHAPTER 45: JOHN - Tuesday, May 15, 2001

CHAPTER 46: WES - Tuesday, May 15, 2001

CHAPTER 47: JOHN - Tuesday, May 15, 2001

CHAPTER 48: WES - Tuesday, May 15, 2001

CHAPTER 49: JOHN - Tuesday, May 15, 2001

CHAPTER 50: WES - Tuesday, May 15, 2001

CHAPTER 51: DEE - Tuesday, May 15, 2001

CHAPTER 52: WES - Tuesday, May 15, 2001

CHAPTER 53: MICHAEL - Tuesday, May 15, 2001

CHAPTER 54: JOHN - Tuesday, May 15, 2001

CHAPTER 55: WES - Tuesday, May 15, 2001

CHAPTER 56: DEE – Wednesday, May 16, 2001

CHAPTER 57: WES - Wednesday, May 16, 2001

CHAPTER 58: MICHAEL - Wednesday, May 16, 2001

CHAPTER 59: WES - Wednesday, May 16, 2001

CHAPTER 60: MICHAEL - Wednesday, May 16, 2001

CHAPTER 61: DEE - Wednesday, May 16, 2001

CHAPTER 62: WES - Wednesday, May 16, 2001

CHAPTER 63: JOHN - Wednesday, May 16, 2001

CHAPTER 64: DELIA - Wednesday, May 16, 2001

CHAPTER 65: DEE - Wednesday, May 16, 2001

CHAPTER 66: WES - Wednesday, May 16, 2001

CHAPTER 67: MICHAEL - Wednesday, May 16, 2001

CHAPTER 68: DEE - Wednesday, May 16, 2001

CHAPTER 69: WES - Wednesday, May 16, 2001

CHAPTER 70: DELIA - Wednesday, May 16, 2001

CHAPTER 71: WES - Wednesday, May 16, 2001

CHAPTER 72: JOHN - Thursday, May 17, 2001

CHAPTER 73: DEE - Thursday, May 17, 2001

CHAPTER 74: WES - Thursday, May 17, 2001

CHAPTER 75: MICHAEL - Thursday, May 17, 2001

CHAPTER 76: WES - Thursday, May 17, 2001

CHAPTER 77: JOHN - Thursday, May 17, 2001

CHAPTER 78: WES - Thursday, May 17, 2001

CHAPTER 79: JOHN - Friday, May 18, 2001

CHAPTER 80: WES - Friday, May 18, 2001

CHAPTER 81: MICHAEL - Friday, May 18, 2001

CHAPTER 82: JOHN - Friday, May 18, 2001

CHAPTER 83: WES - Friday, May 18, 2001

CHAPTER 84: JOHN - Friday, May 18, 2001

CHAPTER 85: WES - Friday, May 18, 2001

AFTERWARD:

PROLOGUE: MICHAEL - October 1995

I sat alone at the back of Saint Mary of the Angels church and cried my silent tears as the priest made his impassioned plea to the good lord to welcome this child into the Kingdom of Heaven.

She was so young, too young, life was only just beginning.

My heart ached. Tears rolled down my cheeks. She was my best friend’s daughter; she was Family. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

I’m sorry, Connor, I am so sorry, I whispered softly into hands pressed together in prayer.

Flowers shrouded the glossy wood coffin in what should have been a beautiful tribute to the young woman inside, but to my eyes were only a fearful warning.

Too many funerals, I told myself as I wiped my eyes. This could have easily been one of my girls. Too easily. My body continued to move through the motions of the mass as my mind took a journey back to that life changing moment eighteen years in the past, witnessed accidentally from outside a door left ajar.

Did you do this, Shane? Were you involved in the death of my son? Fion Riordan asked angrily as he slapped his palms down on the green marble top of my father’s desk.

Fion, how could you ask me that? You’re my oldest friend, my dearest friend. We are Family. Nothing could make me take your son. Nothing. I was his godfather for Christ sake! He was as sacred to me as my own son. I thought one day our children, our grandchildren would...

Fion nodded. I know. I know, he sighed, looking away. I thought that too. My son is gone, Shane, my legacy, stolen away.

You believe it was a hit?

I know it was, he said angrily. I know a job when I see one. I’ve done enough of them myself, he paused pacing the office. He stopped at the window. Snow was still falling, blanketing the city below in a cloak of white with dirty gray edges. I am out, he said at last. I am taking my grandchildren and leaving this game behind. This is no life for them. They’ve lost enough, and I can’t risk losing them too.

Fion, don’t be rash...

My son is dead, Shane! Fion shouted.

This new family is bad. They want to take the empire we built. Without you, I am not sure I can hold them off.

You still have a son, he said bitterly.

He was never meant for this. Doreen sheltered him, she didn’t want him to...

It’s not my problem! I’m a sixty-two-year-old man left to raise two babies alone. What the hell do you expect me to do?

Stay in the family...

Fion threw his hands in the air then pointed a gnarled finger at my father. The Family is the reason the children have no parents. Now you listen to me good, leave them out of this. I don’t want them to know anything about this life. Nothing. Not a damned thing, Shane. And if I ever find out who ordered my son’s death, may God have mercy on his soul, because I sure as hell won’t, he hissed still looking at my father suspiciously. Then he spun on his heels and made for the door.

Fion nodded curtly at me as he pushed through the office door. Bitterness alive in his eyes, though whether it was directed at me, my father or life in general I did not know.

Michael, come in, my father said softly.

"Dad, were you involved in Connor’s death?

No, Son, I have done many things but not that. Not that, he sighed. We have a big problem, a big problem. We need to talk.

I snapped back to awareness as the processional hymn began. In my mind, I was still carrying Connor’s coffin down this very aisle. And now another Riordan left the world.

The young man in the front row stood. He looked so much like Connor that it was painful to look at him; painful to see his grief. Tears streaked his cheeks as he shook the hand of the priest and took his position at the front of his sister’s coffin and led the procession out of the church.

I watched him pass.

Though I was a fixture in his infancy, I had only seen Graham Riordan in person two other times since the boy was six years old; once standing with his two-year-old sister at their parents’ graveside and again standing in this church when his grandfather passed away. Now he was burying his sister.

I absently followed the crowd out of the church, to my car as my mind obsessed over what had happened. Word about the city was that Alanna Riordan was unstable, suicide was inevitable.

I did not believe that at all, not one bit.

While it was true that the girl fell to her death, the situation reeked of pure evil and it seemed likely that the same people who killed her parents had a hand in this untimely death as well.

The Bohannon family was eagerly erasing their competition. It had to be them. Odhran Cain Bohannon and his son Cain were dirty thugs, scoundrels. They had no morals, no qualms at all with killing children or in this case, innocent girls who had no idea they were targets.

I should have been watching over her. She was Connor’s baby.

The Riordan line was being eliminated. I knew my own family was at risk. The choices available to me were both bad: either join forces and keep the enemy close at hand or watch my family follow the Riordans into oblivion.

Those were not acceptable choices.

I was Aeron, I had to find another way.

The funeral procession passed slowly. Cars lined North Hermitage Avenue, lights ablaze. I made the sign of the cross as the hearse passed by; my eyes followed its path.

So many needless deaths.

I pulled out my phone as I watched the sad parade. The call was immediately answered. I want you to keep an eye on Graham Riordan. I want to know everything about him and I want to know his movements for the next few months, I said firmly.

The other end of the line went dead with hardly a word.

If Graham is anything like his forefathers, he’s going to want revenge. I must protect him. I will make sure Connor’s son doesn’t do something he’ll regret, I said aloud to the emptiness of my car. I won’t fail him, Connor, I swear it.

Two days later an envelope sat on my desk. I smiled a little as I opened it.

Graham Riordan: Graduated West Point in 1992 in the top two percent of his graduate class.

MCAT composite score 38S. Deferred acceptance to Feinberg School of Medicine at Northwestern University.

Currently on active duty in the Army, stationed in Afghanistan.

There was a hand-written note attached: Riordan returned to active duty today.

~ * ~

CHAPTER 1: JOHN - Thursday, May 10, 2001

In retrospect, it was ironic that my first impression of her had been that of a reluctant kitten. She had large, luminous eyes and a mass of ginger colored hair that was poorly hidden in the hood of a dark sweatshirt. There was something familiar about her face, but I wasn’t close enough to her to really see her and she shrunk back into the shadows of the alleyway when she saw me looking.

She was very pretty.

Thoughts I didn’t usually entertain drifted through my mind, but I had a job to do and pretty was distracting.

I shrugged my jacket up closer around my neck and kept walking until I stood just below the heavy, ornately carved placard for The Wolfhead Tavern. The snarling wolf creaked on its rusty chains as the wind tugged and pulled, making it look as though the yellowed fangs would bite. The sound was unpleasant; jarring and ominous, but still, I shoved the door open and stepped inside.

The place was less crowded than usual for a Thursday night. A good number of regulars were missing from their self-assigned seats.

Johnny! Been a while, Son. Would it be business or pleasure tonight?

Pleasure? What the heck is that? I scoffed. Then I grinned, we both grinned, as I extended my hand to Angus McGregor, the barkeeper, the owner, the watchman, the ears of the city, and I dropped on to my open stool. What’s the latest news, Angus?

No news, Son, he said with a shake of his head. only gossip around here, you know.

Any of it worth hearing? I asked.

For sure. Tommy Flannigan managed to misplace his gun, he said with a laugh that was both incredulous and banal, given Flannigan’s drinking habits.

Not surprising.

No, surely not. Most days I’m surprised to hear that one is still alive! The young guy, Sean, something, Sean...

Lucas?

Yeah, bloody idiot. Seems he got caught on the wrong side of one of McCaden’s transactions. Heard he was banged up pretty badly.

"I would not want to mess with McCaden when he was using. He’s crazy sober. There’s no telling what he might do when he’s lit.

No truer words than them there. He’s a bad one for certain. Drugs and anger issues be a bad combination. Let’s see, what else, oh, one of Brannick’s men was around here askin’ after Kevin Lowry, seems he’s got some pretty heavy debt ridin’ on his shoulders. He’s most likely in hiding, you understand. I’m surprised Brannick hasn’t called you in to find him, eh.

I haven’t heard anything from Brannick’s men.

Good then, that’s good, Son. Don’t be getting’ involved until you must. There’s somethin’ big going down today. Rumor I been hearin’ is it was a stabbing. Seems to me like it was pretty high up, but that’s all I’ve heard about it, no names, no circumstances, you know. Very hush-hush at the moment.

That’s unusual.

Angus nodded. I haven’t even heard which side, you know, Brannick or Bohannon.

Should be an interesting night, I said with a nod. James Corlis been in here tonight?

Angus laughed. Back to business, eh? Hardly ever a night Corlis isn’t loiterin’ around here, you know that. Don’t know how Christina puts up with that bum, he finished, jerking a thumb toward the back room.

I nodded, slid from the stool, flexed my hands and made for the door. The ruckus coming from the other side said that Corlis was going to be roughed up before I ever got a hand on him. That was nothing new. I was not sure I’d ever seen the man undamaged, without some bruising discoloring his face.

What the hell kind of life was that?

...and stay the hell out! William yelled, tossing the reluctant man out the back door and brushing his hands together as though he was washing them clean of James Corlis forever.

How long you think that’ll keep him away? I snickered.

William startled at my voice so close behind him. Jesus, John, you shouldn’t sneak up on an armed man like that, he gasped as he let go of his gun and slapped my shoulder. I was hopin’ twenty, maybe thirty minutes before he begs off another five bucks and pleads for one more hand. He on your list tonight?

Yes. Stupid bastard.

Brannick or Bohannon?

Bohannon I answered. Just the name left a foul taste in my mouth, as though the name itself was poisonous.

How much is the poor sap into the Devil for?

Eight grand.

William whistled long and slow. He better start walking the straight line. Two grand more and he’s a dead man.

"You feel sorry for him?" I asked, incredulously.

Nah. This ain’t sympathy, Johnny. Shouldn’t be long before he’s got a hit on him. Christina will make a lovely widow. I can see myself consoling her of a good long while, William finished with a wink and a grin.

I shook my head and stepped out into the night.

The dumpster was overflowing with trash and the air was thick with its stench. One of the lights was out at the corner of the building, making the alley darker than usual. I instinctively felt for the gun at my hip. Corlis wasn’t the only person who needed to be cautious in the dark.

Spare a five for a man down on his luck? James Corlis called out to a passerby. The man ducked his head and continued walking.

Christ, William was right, I muttered, moving quietly in the darkness along the shadow of the building as I crept toward the street. I grabbed Corlis from behind and dragged him back to the semi-privacy of the alley. As expected, he was already messed up. His eye was starting to purple, and the blood smeared across his teeth said he’d taken a hit to the mouth as well. He looked more like a beggar than a tax adjuster and the bribes he accepted were clearly not enough to cover his bad habits.

Jesus, John, you nearly gave me a heart attack sneaking up from behind like that.

‘Jesus, John’ was a phrase I heard often around here.

Heart attack would be the least of your problems. You were supposed to have the money today.

John, listen, I am right on the verge of a big score, I just need a few more days...

That’s not going to fly this time. You just gambled away your last dollar inside. I found you begging on the street. You don’t have shit and we both know that. You gave your word to Cain Bohannon. You sold your soul to the devil, James. What are you going to give him? Christina? He’ll abuse her until she begs him to kill her.

No, not my Christina. Two days. I can have half in two days. I swear it.

In a flash, I unsheathed my knife and made a shallow slash across my target’s neck. James gasped as a warm trickle of blood dribbled down his shirt. Two days and you’d better have four grand. If I have to hunt you down, it’ll be the end of your line. You understand me?

You’d kill my family, John?

You signed their death warrants when you made a deal with Bohannon. You damned sure know that. Get the hell out of here. Go home, James. Do not let me see your face again tonight, you hear me?

James Corlis didn’t waste a second.

I bent and picked up a soiled rag from beside the dumpster. I cleaned my knife and sheathed it. And in that instant, I felt the hair stand on my arm. I was crouching in the shadowy darkness of the blown light; I turned my head slowly, searching for the source. There in the alley those bright eyes were watching me again. I stood, but she shrank back into the darkness and I could hear the muffled steps of her retreat.

She wasn’t my problem.

I went back into the bar and sat on the same stool I always sat upon. Angus poured me the same beer I always drank. We chatted about the same meaningless crap we always chatted about. Typical Thursday night in the underbelly of the city. It wasn’t ten minutes before my phone erupted into a fit of vibrating and loud music.

Could the blasted thing be any less discreet? I swore under my breath as I slid the phone from my pocket.

It was a text.

A photo.

A mass announcement to all the scum of the underworld sent from the Devil himself. It said simply: ‘find her, she’s mine.’

Katrine ‘Kitty’ Brannick, the girl from the alley, was the younger daughter of the biggest organized crime boss in Chicago. For some reason, she was wanted by her father’s most vile rival.

The most loathsome, detestable man in the city.

The man I despised beyond anything in this world.

Now she was my problem.

I slapped money down on the bar as I slid the phone back into my pocket. I shook Angus’ hand and I left out the back door, again feeling for my gun as I approached the poorly lit alley, but the alley was empty.

It was hardly two blocks before I felt the strange sensation of being watched again. I slipped around the corner and entered the alley from the back. She was leaning with her head tipped sideways to the wall, shoulders slumped as though she’d given up.

I slipped my hand over her mouth and pulled her tight to my body. Don’t struggle and don’t scream. I won’t hurt you, I said softly but firmly in her ear.

She stiffened but nodded.

You following me? I asked, removing my hand from her mouth, but still holding her tight.

No. Maybe. I don’t know you.

You should not be here. What are you doing here?

Looking for someone. The man in the alley called you John...

I was taken aback for a moment. Come with me, I hissed taking her by the arm and leading her back into the maze of passages through the dark depths of the city.

Are you...

Not here, Angel, I whispered, the alleys have eyes and ears.

And killers.

And killers. I agreed.

My motorcycle was not far from where I’d first seen her. Keep that hood in place and keep your eyes down. Don’t look at anyone. You understand?

She nodded and pulled the hood of her sweatshirt closer to her face as we moved into the light of the main street.

I watched her as she did it. Her right hand was covered in dried blood. You injured? I asked motioning toward her arm.

It’s not my blood she answered coolly as she flexed the dark crusted fingers and kept her eyes averted.

Put this on, I said, handing her my helmet.

Where are you taking me?

I don’t know yet. You’ve got people looking for you. I need to know why.

Are any of them cops?

Not unless they’re dirty.

Damn, she sighed.

The stabbing Angus mentioned was clearly more than a rumor. This girl was obviously involved. And she had probably every mercenary in Cain Bohannon’s army hunting her. There were only two options, one was where they took people to be erased, the other was my place. Though given that Bohannon her wanted badly enough to send a message to his entire network, there was no guarantee she’d be safe in either place.

‘Neither will I for that matter,’ I thought.

I drove fast. The route was convoluted. My place wasn’t necessarily hard to find, but I did not want to be found or seen and there were very few places in the city where cameras were not watching.

This was one of those places.

I parked the motorcycle as far from the building lights as possible. Come with me, I said quietly.

Is this where you live, she asked standing frozen at the door.

Sometimes. For now. I don’t stay in any one place very long, I answered turning the key. I pushed the door open, but she didn’t move. There was a look of terror in her eyes, that was out of place even with the current circumstances. She hadn’t looked like that after being grabbed by a stranger in a dark alley, but standing in the doorway, fear seemed to radiate off her like heat.

I’m not going to hurt you, I promise you.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

You were looking for me for a reason.

She nodded. Whatever realization or rationalization she came to, caused her to shrink back for a moment, but then step around me and enter my apartment.

Apartment was too luxurious a word for the place. It was hardly more than an efficiency: a bed, a kitchenette and a bathroom. The place was spotless, and it completely lacked any personal touches. There was absolutely no identifying information here. I could pick up on a moment’s notice and disappear anytime.

What do you go by? I asked.

What?

"I’m guessing that you don’t go by Kitty Brannick. I doubt you use Katrine either, it’s not a common name...

Dee.

Dee? I smirked.

My sister’s name is Delia, my mother is Danelle, my grandmother was Doreen and there was a girl in my freshman dorm named Denise Brannick. Dee could be any of them.

Interesting.

Not really, just sort of generic. You work for Cain Bohannon?

I cringed. Let’s say I keep an eye on his business. I intervene when it suits me and other times I do my best to circumvent his wishes.

And this, me?

He wants you back very badly, Angel. He’s put the word out, widely, to find you. I think he’s going to be frustrated.

He’s not dead then.

No. What happened? Why is he looking for you? Is it his blood?

She smiled for the first time since I’d found her, but the smile was not happiness. She held her hand up, looking at the bloody fingers with satisfaction.

Yes. I stabbed him.

~ * ~

CHAPTER 2: MICHAEL - Thursday, May 10, 2001

A gaggle of nurses fawned and fussed over Cain Bohannon as I stood outside the ICU thinking, wondering what the next move was going to be and dreading all the possible answers crowding my mind.

Bohannon’s wound could have been much worse; half an inch to the left and he’d have died there on the kitchen floor. A lot of problems would have died on the kitchen floor with him, but would the ensuing war have been worth it? Had this happened anywhere other than my home, letting the man die would have been simple, perhaps even smart, provided that the details could be controlled, erased.

How in the name of God did this happen?

I was not listening to Delia’s carrying on, though I turned to look at her.

Her mascara was smudged and smeared, her sweater had thick blood streaked across the shoulder, but her eyes did not even hint at shed tears. And though she should have looked frightened, worried, unsettled, in that moment she looked more like her mother than I had ever seen before.

I shuddered.

My daughter was clutching my arm, ranting about what had happened, forcing words I did not want to hear upon me.

Kitty nearly killed him, Daddy! She just went after him with a knife. She’s jealous that he’s going to marry me. She’s insane.

Don’t talk about your sister like that, Delia. Katrine is not insane nor is she jealous. I know that. You most certainly know that. I know you aren’t telling me the truth, only what you want to believe. I also know Cain is not innocent in this. And I have certainly not given permission for you to marry him. He’s trouble, Delia.

He’s powerful, Daddy.

Powerful.

She had no idea what the word meant, she had only her mother’s delusion of power for reference.

There was definitely too much of Danelle in this girl, I thought as I shook my head.

My mind was racing. What the hell could Cain have done to push Kitty this far? But just thinking of Kitty sent my mind back to a day twenty-four years ago in this very hospital.

It’s a girl, Dani! Congratulations! The doctor said as the nurses swept the tiny bundle away to clean her up. Does she have a name yet?

Danelle crossed her arms over her chest and refused to answer. For nine months she’d been believing she was carrying the heir to the family business, the next prince of the city. For her, another girl was more than a disappointment, it was a failure.

But for me, it had been a relief, a gift from God. The Brannick line would end and the chips would fall where they may, but I would not have to raise a killer.

The nurse tried to hand the baby to Danelle, but Danelle refused to take her, refused to even look at her. This child was going to be forever punished by her mother for being born female. But the moment I took her in my arms, I knew love greater than anything I’d ever felt in my life. The tiny child curled into my body like new born kitten. She was fair and delicate, nearly the opposite of Delia who was dark haired like I am but with her mother’s sharp, almost stern features. The baby opened her bright hazel eyes, looked at me for a moment and snuggled contentedly into the crook of my arm.

Katrine. Her name will be Katrine Brannick I said, stroking her tiny cheek. I’ll protect you, Kitty. I’ll shelter you from this reality as best I can. That was my promise to my new daughter.

‘I failed you, Baby. I sheltered you too much, but I didn’t protect you enough. You’ve had to resort to this.’

Daddy! Are you even listening to me? Delia demanded.

No, Delia, I am not. I love you, Pumpkin, but I do not want to hear you talk about marrying him. He’s a brute and a liar. If I thought he wanted to marry you because he loved you...

Oh, and you married mother for love? She snapped back at me, hands on hips.

I loved my daughter dearly, but there were times when she was very hard to like.

This was one of those times.

Don’t take that tone with me, Delia. I have never mistreated your mother or you girls. I have been faithful. I have given you everything. I can promise you that you will not get that same consideration from Cain Bohannon. You will not be the only woman he takes to his bed and he’s not going to care one bit about your feelings in the matter.

Delia’s face went dark. Clearly, she already knew the truth of the situation as she looked away from me and back through the window to Cain’s hospital room.

Look at them tripping over themselves to be near him. You’d think they’d never seen a handsome man before. she snipped, glaring at the nurses attending him.

I shook my head and walked away.

I took out my phone. Three texts were awaiting my reply.

Two thousand dollars was withdrawn from her bank account and another thousand was advanced off her credit card. 3:15 pm

Two international flights were booked in her name: London 6:25 pm, Edinburg 6:10 pm. She checked in for both, though the airport security images are bad, positive identification not possible.

Her car was found at the airport. Her cell phone and laptop were both inside.

My girl is not stupid and she’s definitely not crazy. She bought herself a day. I told myself and smiled. ‘Where are you now, Kitty?’ I wondered.

~ * ~

CHAPTER 3: JOHN - Thursday, May 10, 2001

Have you eaten anything today? Are you hungry?

Dee rubbed her clean hand across her stomach. It seems like this day has gone on forever. I don’t remember eating, she said as she pushed the hood of her sweatshirt off her hair and looked around the room. What are you going to do to me, John?

Her hair was a beautiful red-gold. I was trying hard not to stare. Look, on my honor, I’m not going to do anything to you.

Are you a man of honor?

That’s the only thing worth being, Dee.

So, what happens now?

Right now, I’m going to leave. There’s a deli just down the street. I’m going to bring back some food. While I’m gone, I think you should wash up. Shower’s through there, should have everything you need. That blood on your arm needs to go away. Then when you’re clean and fed, you’re going to tell me why you were looking for me and we’ll go from there.

What’s the price? Dee asked looking me squarely in the eye.

The look in her eyes was painful to see. Clearly, she’d been abused at some point. The damage was like an infected wound that wouldn’t heal. There was a sudden, nearly overwhelming desire to take her in my arms and comfort her, but my instinct said she was afraid of physical contact and touching her was not going to be good for either of us.

No price. Just tell me what he did.

Dee narrowed her eyes suspiciously. There is always a price. I’m not going to tell you my story. I will tell you what I was looking for.

Fair enough, I nodded. I had a pretty good idea what the story was anyway, and that made the blood boil in my veins. Be here when I get back, I said as I left the apartment and locked the door behind myself. I leaned back against the wall for a moment. This was a dangerous situation for me, it hit too close to home, and brought back all the pain. My mind immediately went back to the last time I spoke to my sister.

School is going fine, Graham. My classes are fine. My apartment is really nice. It’s nice to have my own room again. The semester is off to a good start. You worry about me too much! She laughed.

It’s my job to worry about you.

Stop it! Alanna said with a huff, it is not your job, soldier boy. I miss you, though. I wish you weren’t so far away. Are you okay? I keep hearing a lot of things about bombings and raids.

I’m fine. I’m in the medical unit now, not in the field, I’ll be safe here.

Hmm. Safe. Remind me again how you got into the medical unit?

I laughed a little. Touché. I will be safer here, I promise you.

Watch out for yourself. Please.

I will. I should have leave at Christmas time. We can spend the holidays together like we used to.

Maybe, she teased, if I’m not too busy with my boyfriend.

You’re dating? I never gave you permission to date.

I just met him, Graham. He’s taking me to dinner tonight. He’s handsome. He has nice manners. Reminds me of you a little. He’s about your height, same hair color. You know what, I don’t want to compare him to you, that’s sort of creepy.

Be careful, Lanna.

You see, you worry too much, Graham cracker! It’s just dinner.

But it wasn’t just dinner. It wasn’t dinner at all. Six weeks later she was dead and all she left behind was a note.

I walked the two blocks to the deli. The night had become infinitely more sinister since I took Kitty Brannick to my apartment. I checked my gun, multiple times. I’d been a soldier for three years, I knew how to protect myself, but at that moment, insurgent armies with machine guns and bombs strapped to their bodies seemed less threatening than my own home town. This girl seemed too delicate to be part of ‘The Family’ and yet she had the strength to stab a man most people dared not make eye contact with and the nerve to lament aloud that she hadn’t succeeded in killing him.

I returned as slowly as common sense would allow. Catching her just out of the shower, possibly undressed, was not going to be good for either of us. From the moment I’d first seen her, I was attracted to her, I mean, just seeing those eyes was all it took. But while being attracted to Kitty Brannick was, in itself crazy, right now it was plain dangerous.

By the time I returned with the food, she was sitting, fully clothed, shoes and all, on the floor rummaging through her backpack. Her hair was still damp, but the glossy red strands hung nearly to the floor as she sat. I hadn’t realized it was so long hidden as it was in her sweatshirt. I wondered, for an instant what it would feel like to run my fingers into that hair, but I tried to disguise my interest as she looked at me with her fear filled eyes.

I should have asked you what you wanted. I wasn’t thinking. I went with the basics. I hope it’s okay.

Do you care what I want, she asked with a light laugh.

I nodded just slightly as I joined her on the floor and handed her one of the sandwiches. It was hard making sensible words while also trying not to stare at her.

Well that makes you the only person who does.

She unwrapped her sandwich, watching as I did the same and bit as I bit. We ate in silence for a few long minutes.

What do you want? I asked.

Right now?

Yes.

Something very different than I would have answered yesterday, she sighed.

What would you have said yesterday?

Dee seemed to be studying me for a moment. I wondered what she saw.

Are you a killer, John? She asked quietly.

I was in the army, in Afghanistan. I have killed people.

Do you kill for the Bohannons?

No.

In the alley you said...

I dropped my chin, looking away from her. I know what I said, Angel, I know what you heard, but that’s not the whole story. Cain Bohannon will have James killed if it suits his purpose. There are people all over this city indebted to him for some reason or another. When he wants someone dead he just whispers the word and one of those people eager to have their debt erased will do his bidding. When he wants something found, there is a different group of people who can do things discreetly and if he wants something to disappear, he has experts for that too.

Which group are you?

I have no debt with Bohannon, he trusts me even less than I trust him. I guess if I needed to be classified, I would say I find things.

So, you found me. Are you going to turn me over to him? He must be offering a price.

No. I mean, he is offering a price. I have no intention of giving him what he wants. I would rather have to kill you than give you to that lunatic. But I don’t intend to kill you either, Dee. And really, I would say you found me. Why were you looking for me?

Do you work for my father also?

Occasionally, not often. I don’t know him very well. He keeps his business very private and his information secured with just a few people.

Dee pressed her lips together and met my eyes. She stared at me for a long intense moment, judging me, making her decision about what she was going to tell me.

My father trusts you. I guess that’s a stupid reason for me to look for you. My father is a dirty criminal, but he trusts very few people. The only person he tells everything to is Wes. I don’t even know if Wes is his real name. I’ve never seen his face. But a while ago I went to my father’s office to tell him.., she paused and swallowed, "that’s not important. He was in his office with Wes and they were talking about John Currin. Wes said something about you buying guns. The conversation was quiet I didn’t hear much, but my father