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“‘I need to know what happened last night and I need those behind it at the warehouse choking on their audacity,” I say, low enough that I won't disturb her. She doesn’t need more reasonsto be afraid, and I don't think I can handle her being genuinely afraid of me.
“The cameras on your car caught plates but we never got a good angle on the driver’s face. The front and back plates are different and both are stolen. They were hijacked locally, so it could have been anyone,” Rome informed me. The wheels inside my brain spin trying to figure out who tried to kill us. My life is irrelevant, but hers is not. Her every breath fills my lungs with hope for the future. A future where she can follow her dreams.
“Okay, what about the bullet holes in my car? We need some direction on how to hunt these fuckers,” I ask Rome. My heart beats uneasily in my chest as I stand, heading to the garage. The unease turns to violent rage as I face the side of the car. The holes were larger than a handgun and that means this was a professional hit. This wasn’t over by a long shot.
“Rome, your room here is occupied but I do need you to get these bullets checked. I need to know if there is any way that I can find them. They owe me their blood,” I inform Rome.
“I am safe watching over Claire and will switch with a guard so I can come get more information,” Rome says matter of factly, hiding any emotion or playfulness from his voice. While I might not have time today to dig into why my best friend feels the need to hide whatever is going on in the background, I have a sinking suspicion about what he could be keeping from me. As long as his intentions with her were true I would have no issue with them being together, but my father is a different story.
“Please only come to the garage and bring enough breakfast for three. She is still sleeping after last night,” I inform him while hiding the catch in my throat. I am theAngel of Deathand should be strong enough to protect her. Hitting the punching bag with fury, I unleash the anger and frustration. Every hit I relive the good and the bad parts of last night. All I wanted was to take her out to dinner; I never wanted her to be in danger.That leaves the question of how the shooter knew where we were.
My focus on each strike and the placement of each hit almost hides the footsteps entering the workout space. It is too soon for those steps to belong to my goofy best friend, which leaves only her standing there watching me. The sweat is dripping down my torso from the intensity of the workout and the ferocity of my strikes has a thud ringing in the room. Finishing the set, I turn toward her and shake out my hands. The sad look in her eyes has me stepping toward her.
“What’s wrong, Butterfly?” I ask, wondering which thing could be furrowing her brow today. Using my left hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, I see that she changed this morning. She is wearing the workout clothes I had purchased for her and came to find me in the gym.
“I don’t want to be helpless anymore,” she whispers. Placing a quick kiss on her forehead, I know what we will do today. She will start training with me after we eat. The sound of tires in the driveway has me opening the garage door.
“It’s just Rome, don’t worry Butterfly. He would lay down his life to ensure your safety,” I inform her, watching the tension in her shoulders reduce a bit. He has a bag of food and wears a sheepish smile.
“Well, Hello future sister-in-law. I don’t bite, even if you did take over my normal sleeping quarters in the house,” he jests my future bride. Closing the garage door I listen for her answer. I need these two to get along for both my sanity and future plans.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t sleep there last night,” she jokes back, making my smile grow. She just admitted to my best friend that she slept in my bed last night and fuck, the thought of keeping her there is almost enough to override the bad situation that got us here.
“The car is pretty damaged. It’s a good thing that I have a few more but by the size of these holes, it wasn’t an amateur with a handgun that came after us last night. We can discuss the current thoughts on this at the table over breakfast. Then, we need to start training with her to make sure she is safe even if I am not around,” I state matter of factly, knowing that I won’t keep any future dealings from her, especially if it involves her safety.
Sitting between Ella and Rome at the table, my home feels full and happy. The smell of the breakfast burritos and hash browns are enough to make my mouth water. My favorite local Tex-Mex place does an amazing scrambled burrito with all the fixings. Pouring myself a cup of coffee, I sit between the two of them. This morning’s early workout has my stomach shouting in exuberance at each bite. We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. This allows our bodies and minds to recover from the hectic last 24 hours and move forward.
“This act is far from over, Rome and we need a plan that doesn’t involve my father. I need to know that the right people are being protected,” I start the conversation. Even though I have not opened up about the discourse between my father and I, she has seen enough to understand it.
“Here is what we know so far. The cars had stolen plates on the front and back. They were all local Colorado plates so this was set in advance. The bullet holes are larger, like a higher powered firearm. This, coupled with the knowledge of where you were, has confirmed that this was organized,” Rome informs us before taking another bite of his breakfast.
“Do we think they were after me or Leo? I mean my bodyguard did just disappear,” Ella asks the room and everything stops. This is the moment where I decide that she either knows the truth or I keep her in the dark about him.
“Rome, I need you to give Ella and I the room. Why don’t you go get the samples of the bullets to be tested. We will meet you out there when we are done,” I direct him. I have no idea how this conversation is going to go. She has every right to be pissed, but I have the tape of his confessions for her if she wants to watch it.
“Leo, please tell me what’s going on,” she asks, fear leaching into her voice. I stand up and walk to the closet and pull out my personal encrypted laptop.
“You know that I am theAngel of Death. I get my assignments via files and I don’t know who my targets are before I see the file. The day you came here I was awoken at 3 am to a phone call. The envelope had a face I recognized,” I tell her while keeping my hands in my lap. I have never been so afraid to tell someone the truth. She is breathing heavily and avoiding eye contact.
“When I got him to our warehouse, I interrogated him and found information that sealed his fate. I made an audio recording of what he confessed. The things he confessed are cruel and dark. I can share it with you or I can tell you what was said. It is your choice. How we proceed from here is up to you,” I state, hoping that she knows I am telling her the truth.
“Show me the proof, Leo, please. I need to hear it for myself. Will you sit with me while I listen to it though?” she asks, the vulnerability showing through in her voice. Scooting our chairs closer together I clasp her hand.
“Before I hit play, I want you to understand that what I do as theAngel of Deathis bloody but it will never ever be aimed toward you. I would let you kill me before I would raise my hand against you in anger.” I promise to her with sincerity in my voice. Hitting play on the audio clip she listens with rapt attention. Her eyes fill with tears and her shoulders tremble as the weight of the words sink in. She hangs on each word and as the reality of whathappened and why I didn’t tell her hits her. When the audio clip ends, I shut my laptop and look at her.
“He is no longer walking this earth and he cannot hurt you anymore, Butterfly. I do not think any differently about you knowing what I know. Do you want to curl up on the couch and process what you heard or do you want to come train with us to burn off that anger?” I ask
“I want to kick the ass of anyone who dares to cross me in the future.”
Chapter Fifteen
ELLA
“Betrayal stings, but so does the impact of a punch. If you hurt me emotionally, I will retaliate in a physical sense. Fuck the Patriarchy.”
My mind is reeling from the new information about Anton, who I trusted not only with my secrets, but with my body. I wasn’t in love with him or anything but the utter use and back stabbing took me by surprise. Wiping away my tears, Leo and I walk into the garage holding hands as a united front. The strength from him is keeping me on my feet as the waves of reality hit me. He didn’t have to tell me the truth about my bodyguard. He could have kept it a secret from me, especially since he was apprehensive about how I would react. I knew that something bad happened, and I had stopped oversharing with Anton and the punishments became less frequent in the past, but I never had any proof. Rome looks inquisitively up at us from the evidence in his hands when we walk in the garage. In that split moment, I understand how close these two men are outside of the jokes and banter when a silent conversation happens between them without words.Rome knows everything about my guard and probably knows what was said and what he did to me. When I make eye contact with Rome, I expect to see pity in his eyes but instead I see compassion and strength. Releasing the breath and fear I was holding, my shoulders relax just a fraction. He isn’t going to ask if it is going to break me because he can see that I too am a survivor. The look exchanged between us is one that only survivors and those who have lived through hell and back but have lived to tell the tale know how to give.
“What we know for sure is that the death of your guard is not linked to the attempted murdering of you both. However, I can tell you that the etchings in what’s left of the bullets look Russian. I won’t be able to confirm until I get a chemical composite of the material used. There are no confirmed local allies of the Bratva,” Rome shared this information without pause. What these men don’t know is that my father has been building relationships with the Bratva for years in secret. Everything shifts around me as my breath slips away. How do I tell them about what I know without being a rat? It is a well known fact how Leo’s family deals with turncoats in their organization. If I don’t share what I know, it could cost both of us our lives. While death could be the reprieve I am looking for from the trauma I have experienced, I won’t let my failings cost Leo his life.
