Page 124 of The Quiet Witness

Dash chuckled, unknowingly blurted out the words that would be signing his death. “Ethan sure is busy tonight, isn’t he?”

Lucien mirrored his grin, stepping into the light of the moon to show the blood dripping from his hands. The man’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. But instead of fleeing—

I really thought he would flee. Knowing his cowardice actions.

Dash took one step back, reaching for something under the lapels of his jacket. The light glistened across a black handle.

A gun. Interesting.

He drew the weapon, but Lucien wouldn’t give him the chance he’d offered Kate. This one knew where to locate the safety. For a split-second, memories of Christmas hit him.

This one didn’t hide. No, Katherine Withers, the girl who should be lying face first on the Christmas table, with her heart having stilled in her chest… survived. She aimed a gun at him, arms trembling under the weight, fear rippling out through the whole of her struggling body. But oh, how she spat out the words at his feet. Begging for your mercy, she said. He nearly laughed, amused by the fire in the girl, woman really. Only she didn’t look much older than a child, with the too thin clothes hanging off her pale skin. This one, she wouldn’t back down.

Lucien stepped toward the man, closing the space between them.

The gun went off.

Its harsh sound split the evening air, silencing the hooting owl.

Pain rippled out….

Wait… pain?

Lucien shoved his blade into the man’s gut and twisted it around. He held him up by the shoulders, taking in the struggle of death as the man’s light grey eyes widened, fighting the blood rushing out of the wound as Lucien jerked the knife back. Watching as white overtook the grey, the man’s eyes turned up towards the sky before stilling. Good fucking riddance.

He let the man drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Flexing his left shoulder to see blood glisten over his skin.

Only a flesh wound. Another scar to add to the growing collection.

He heaved a heavy sigh, closing his eyelids to breathe in the forest air, allowing the adrenaline to fade into the background. The owl returned to hooting his or her eerie music, it echoed out over the fields flanking the solitary house. I could live in a place like this. Oh yeah, already do.

He stepped over Dash’s body as if it were a speck of dust. And really, were they anything else?

Jogging down the steps, he strode through the forest to where he’d parked the Volvo. All the while wrapping his shoulder with a strip he’d torn off his t-shirt, the large gash oozed blood. But even with the pain spiking up, it did nothing to lessen the thrum of his heartbeat.

Tonight had been good.

But there had been this split-second, when the gun went off, and his thoughts had strayed to Kate. What if Dash had hit him good and well? It had never bothered him before, his work came with risks, many of them.

And death, it awaits every one of us.

Still, he couldn’t shake the idea of what would have happened to the woman he’d taken to dinner, the one where he very nearly crossed the line with last night.

His hand stilled on the steering wheel, collecting his thoughts.

Tonight, he would have to twist the truth, mix what was true with false.

And somewhere along the way, that had become the hardest job yet.

Chapter 53

Changing Times

Hands clenched around a book.

Kate sat bundled up under two blankets, knuckles white as her eyes sped over the inked words of her book.

Will they or won’t they kiss?!