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He ignores my gun and takes the step towards me I knew he would. “You’ve got that right,” he snarls
“Yeah, I figured as much.” I put a bullet through his skull.
As he slumps to the ground, Hyde comes through the door. Glancing down at the dead guy, an irritated expression I know well from him crosses his face. Looking up at me, he asks, “Was that fucking necessary?”
I put my gun away. “Yeah, it fucking was.” And besides, King won’t give a shit. His orders are always the same—get the fuck in, get what we need, and get the fuck out. However it needs to be done.
Hyde isn’t King, though. They often disagree. Not that I pay much attention; King is my boss as far as I’m concerned. “It’d be nice if for once I showed up and you didn’t have anything for me to help you clean up.”
The VP knows his chances of that are slim. People always get in my fucking way. Hyde isn’t like me. He can fight like a motherfucker, but he prefers no mess. Me? I’ll take mess any day. It keeps life interesting. The messier the fucking better.
“Okay,” he says, “let’s do this and get the hell out of here.”
We clean up fast and head to the warehouse where King is waiting for us. I’m surprised as fuck to see Detective Stark with him when we pull in. What reason could he possibly have to invite her here? This is where we do the kind of shit no cop should ever fucking know about.
“He still breathing?” King asks as I jump out of the van. He appears stressed, which makes me wonder what the deal is with this guy.
“Yeah. I took care of things exactly how you wanted.”
Hyde exits the van. “Except for the guy you shot.”
King glances between us while Stark watches on in silence, seemingly unfazed by the things she’s hearing. “He’s clean?” Meaning we left nothing that can link him to us.
Hyde nods. “Yeah.”
Stark steps forward. “There better not be any connection to Storm. We don’t need this coming back to bite us on the ass.” Fuck, she’s ice. Emotionless. I’ve never met a female like her. To King, she says, “Let’s get this done.”
As we watch them haul Stefano away, I say to Hyde, “What the fuck is her deal? And why is she here?”
“All you need to know is she’s helping us with a problem we’ve got in Melbourne. This guy was payment for that.”
I arrive home just before 11:00 p.m. and stand under a hot shower for a good fifteen minutes, washing dirt and blood off me. My body is exhausted, but my mind is wired. I won’t sleep much tonight with all this adrenaline racing through my veins.
After I dry off, I pull a pair of jeans on and head to the kitchen to grab the bottle of whisky I picked up earlier. The alcohol will help settle me. I then flick on the television and have just rested my ass on the couch when a text comes through. Figuring it’s King, I check it straight away.
* * *
Zara: Are you home?
Fury: Why?
Zara: Holly’s out. I’m kinda going crazy home alone.
* * *
I call her.
“Hey,” she says in that soft, sexy voice that does shit to me it shouldn’t.
“You okay?”
The line goes quiet, so I repeat myself. A little more forcefully this time, because my need to know is far greater than I wish. “Zara, are you okay?”
“I feel like a fucking idiot, Fury. I told her to go out because I want to face my fears and I figure starting that process in my own home is the best idea. Rationally, I know I’m safe, but I’m slowly losing my shit here tonight. Would you mind if I came over and hung out with you until Holly gets home? I mean, unless you’re going to bed…. I don’t want to bug you if you are. God… I’m sorry. I—”
“Zara, stop. You’re not an idiot.” Then, against all my better judgement, I find myself saying, “Stay there. I’ll come to you.”
She turns silent again, and then says, “Okay. Thank you.”
