Chereads / Backstabber (Past Shadows, Book One) / Chapter 14 - Chapter 13: Headhunter

Chapter 14 - Chapter 13: Headhunter

"Ario," Evelyn shook her husband. Ario turned his back to her and tugged his pillow around his head to block her out. "Ario, wake up!"

He groaned, yawning deeply as he sat up; he went stiff when he heard the muted, frantic banging from downstairs.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know," she clutched his arm tightly, her voice caught in a strained whisper. "I think someone's trying to break in!"

He sighed, patting her hand comfortingly.

"It's okay, amore," he said quietly. "It's probably just the repair crew in the stables."

He folded back the blanket and flicked on his bedside light. He'd barely stood when three figures burst into the room, dressed in black with skeleton gloves and bloody white Scream masks. The tallest of them brandished a revolver, thumbing the hammer as he aimed at Ario.

"Get the bitch!" the voice was digitally scrambled.

She screamed as she was dragged out of bed, whimpering from the crushing grip on her arm as she was shoved roughly across the room.

"Who the hell are you?" Ario demanded, holding up his hands. "Let go of my wife and get out!"

The one with the gun chuckled.

"I don't think you're in any position to give orders, old man," he let off a shot, the bullet cutting close past Ario's cheek. "You know exactly what we're here for, so cough it up, unless you want your brain ventilated."

Ario met his gaze steadily, keeping silent until he jammed the muzzle of the gun between Evelyn's chattering teeth. Her choking, terrified sobs leaked faintly past the unforgiving metal.

"Running out of time, old man," his finger tightened on the trigger. "Better cough it up, or I'm blowing this bitch's head off."

Evelyn stared wide-eyed at her husband as tears spilled down her cheeks. He looked helplessly back at her, then sighed heavily.

"You'll find it behind a panel in the corner," he said, pointing. "Left of the dresser."

The gunman laughed.

"Smart move," he pulled the weapon away, then waved it dismissively. "Let her go."

The burglars laughed again as the one holding her shoved her to the floor; she struggled to crawl away on her hands and knees, getting tangled in her nightgown. Ario knelt to put his arms around her, watching the last member tear the wooden panel from the wall. Resting in the gap behind a loose brick was a green metal case the size of a cassette tape.

"I know what you're thinking, old man," the leader stated, as his crony collected their prize. "That since you helped start all this, you're too important to kill."

He lifted the gun and fired.

"But I'm afraid you just became obsolete."

Ario fell back, clutching at the wound as he glared murder at the intruders.

"You've made a big mistake," he snapped breathlessly. "They won't overlook this!"

The perp shifted his mask to show a flash of teeth, bared in a sharp, crooked smile.

"Then I guess we'll see you in hell, old man."

The group disappeared downstairs; the faint crunch of gravel faded out before Evelyn dared to move. She scrambled to grab the phone on Ario's nightstand, her fingers trembling so she could hardly hold it as she punched in those three numbers.

"Please, I need la polizia," she begged, barely keeping it together. "Someone broke in and they just shot my husband!"

<<<>>>

"Lena," the teacher snapped his book shut as the lunch bell rang. "Could you stay for a few minutes, please?"

Half asleep, Lena lurched forward, rubbing her eyes as the rest of the class filed out. She stretched, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand. He dropped the book on the corner of his desk, leaned against the edge and took off his glasses.

"Is everything okay?" he pulled a cloth from his vest pocket and polished the lenses. "You've fallen asleep every class this week."

She groaned sleepily, propping her chin back on her fists.

"Yeah, Mr. S," she managed around another yawn. "Everything's fine."

He walked to the desk in front of hers, pulled out the chair and straddled it.

"You haven't been keeping up with your homework either," he continued. "You sure there's nothing you want to talk about?"

Lena stared blankly at him, then sat up.

"I've kind of had a hard time since I moved here," she started. "A lot's happened, especially lately, and now I keep having these weird dreams."

He scratched his cheek with the arm of his glasses, then hung them from his vest pocket.

"And what happens in those dreams?"

Lena hesitated, biting hard on her knuckle.

"I hear screaming and crying," she stammered quickly. "And shadows start closing in on me. I can't even call for help because it feels like I'm drowning."

He hummed thoughtfully, resting his crossed arms on the back of the chair.

"Anything else?"

She toyed with her fingers, then nodded.

"I hear more people laughing and mocking me as it starts going black, that's usually when I wake up."

He straightened and rubbed his chin.

"The short answer is that it sounds like you're worried or scared about something," he smiled faintly. "And you don't seem to realize how important you are to the people you care about."

She shook her head.

"That's just it," she argued. "Pretty much everyone I've known, their lives got worse after they met me!"

He chuckled a bit.

"Now I find that hard to believe."

She choked.

"One of my best friends lost his brother," she could feel herself tearing up. "The other lost her cousin, and now Jason's grandpa was shot!"

"In the shoulder, barely," Jason added suddenly from the doorway. "Whoever did it couldn't aim for shit."

Mr. S glanced at him, then got to his feet and pushed the chair back in. He went to the whiteboard and grabbed the eraser.

"You can go now, Lena."

She nodded, snatched her things and followed Jason into the hallway; they stopped at their lockers to dump everything in their backpacks.

"How much of that did you hear?"

"Just the end," he curled the strap over his shoulder and slammed his locker shut. "Ty never talks about his brother."

"He hates talking about it," she headed for the front doors. "Raúl's death was the main reason they moved here."

She looked up as they strolled outside, smiling when she saw the clouds had cleared the sky, a light breeze brushing her cheek.

"Come on," he went for the front parking lot. "There's somewhere I wanted to take you."

It was a short drive to the park by the town square, crowded with families enjoying the break in a long wet spell. Jason pulled into an empty spot, then hit a button to put up the top.

"I know something else has been bugging you," he cut the engine, toying with his keys. "Why haven't you told me what's going on?"

Lena shook her head and put on a bright smile.

"You don't have to worry about it," she unbuckled and climbed out. "Come on, let's go for a walk, it's so nice out!"

They followed the path along the edge of the park, not far from the woods. Lena kept her eyes glued to the ground, the shifting patterns of sunlight filtering through the wind-blown leaves overhead. She managed a giggle when a brown duck waddled out of the underbrush, followed by a stumbling hoard of fluffy, peeping ducklings. Jason stopped at a fork in the trail, taking her hand as he led her to a picnic area, strewn with branches and leaves like it hadn't been used in years.

"What's going on, babe?" he pulled her with him when he sat on a stone bench in the shade. She shook her head again.

"I can't tell you," she couldn't even look at him. "I don't want you to worry!"

He cupped her cheek, turning her face toward him.

"You're making me worry more by not telling me," he said, then his frown deepened. "And I know you still think I'm just screwing with you sometimes, but I'm not lying when I say I care about you."

He leaned in fast and kissed her.

"Please, Lena, just tell me what's wrong."

She stared at him, then pulled back, letting her hair fall in her face as she pushed up her pink and white-striped sleeve. He gasped.

"You've been…cutting yourself?"

She cringed.

"I thought I'd stopped for good this time," she stuttered hurriedly. She yanked down her sleeve and turned away, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. Her voice broke when she spoke again. "I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd leave if you realized just how screwed up I am."

She jumped up, barely making it a step before he grabbed her wrist. He stood, tugged her to his chest and hugged her, hard.

"I'm just as fucked up as you are, Lena," he said softly. "And even if I weren't, I could never do that to you."

He chuckled, though there was no real mirth in it.

"Hell, you could kill someone and it wouldn't change how I feel."

She gasped, tears filling her eyes as she stared up at him. She'd never heard so much conviction in somebody's voice.

"Really?"

He smiled, then kissed her tenderly.

"Really," he kissed her again, putting an arm around her when they sat back down. "And since we're here, there's something I wanted to ask you."

He reached in his jacket pocket and brought out a smaller copy of his class ring—silver and black with a radiant cut topaz, a stylized flame on the left and the profile of a roaring jaguar on the right. A sun had been etched into the gem, her name beautifully engraved on the inside of the band.

"Will you be my girl?"

She gasped, then snapped her mouth shut, trying to give him a playful smirk.

"You're really asking me to go steady with you? That's so old-school!"

He pouted, but couldn't quite keep the smile off his face. He took her hand and slid the ring on her finger—it fit perfectly. She giggled.

"Guess I don't have a choice now, do I?"

He chuckled.

"Not really."

<<<>>>

He shifted impatiently in the uncomfortably plush seat. He'd barely fallen asleep when the call had come in, an urgent summons to headquarters. It was going on two in the morning when the sleepy maid who'd left him in the foyer returned to bring him to the trophy room. An older man reclined in one of the velvet armchairs in front of the blazing fireplace, polishing an antique pistol from the tall lacquered cabinet against the wall.

"Have a seat, son," he didn't look up from his work. The maid stepped out, leaving the door slightly ajar. The agent swallowed hard before taking the other chair, his jaw tight as he tried to keep his growing anxiety under control.

"I'm surprised it's taken this long," his boss broke down the gun on the small table in front of him to clean it more thoroughly. "You're usually a lot faster than this."

The agent sighed, leaning forward as he ran his hands over his face.

"I know what you're going to say," he spoke from behind his steepled fingers. "That I need to quit fucking around and get the job done."

He nearly jumped when the older man laughed.

"You're right, I should say that, but I'm not going to," he looked him in the eye. "I knew you wouldn't be able to kill her, I went through the same thing when I met her grandmother."

He blinked.

"What do you mean?" he didn't think he'd ever been more confused. "What are you talking about?"

The boss smoothed a hand over his thinning gray hair.

"I'm sure it's obvious to you by now, but she hasn't done anything to deserve this," he flashed a small smile, so much like hers. "I gave you her information because I wanted to show you there's more to life than silencing targets."

He stared at the man.

"Why didn't you save us all this time and just tell me that?"

The gun was back together in a few seconds; he stood and locked it in the cabinet, before walking to the small bar on the other side of the room.

"Would you have bothered getting to know her if I had?"

He couldn't stop the embarrassed blush. The boss laughed again, passing him one of the open beers in his hands before sitting across from him again.

"I know you don't like being kept in the dark, and I am sorry for that, but you do like her, don't you?"

The blush deepened as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, yeah, I guess," he stammered. "I mean…"

The boss smiled fondly, another expression he never thought he would see.

"You mean it's more than that, isn't it?"

He scratched at an old scar peeking past his collar, then took a few slugs of beer.

"The truth is, I, uh…" he had to clear his throat. "I think I'm in love with her."

The older man held out his own drink.

"Now that's exactly what I wanted to hear."

He took a long sip, wiping his mouth as a concise knock shifted the door inward. The same maid from before poked her head in.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we're ready, sir."

The boss nodded.

"Perfect."

He set the bottle on the table and got to his feet, a small smile still on his face when he looked back to the agent.

"You can go, son," he lowered his voice. "And thank you."

The agent had barely stood when the old man grabbed him, jabbing him in the shoulder with a needle. Whatever drugs were in it worked fast, the amber bottle breaking on the hardwood floor, his legs giving out as his body went numb.

"I'm sorry," the voice sounded close, yet far away, echoing over the blood that rushed in his ears. "I'm so sorry."

<<<>>>

Jason froze, his pen hovering over a half-inked picture. The power had been knocked out by the storm raging outside, and his phone had died an hour ago, but he could have sworn he'd heard voices somewhere. He grabbed the battery-powered lantern from the kitchen table, following the noise to the basement. He eased the door open, avoiding the spots that creaked on the stairs, stopping dead when he saw what was happening.

Lena was bound hand and foot with black bandanas, lying in a puddle. Two guys stood over her, as soaked as she was, their eyes widening behind their gray goalie masks, their shadows bouncing on the walls when the lantern hit the landing.

"Shit!"

Jason lurched as thunder cracked overhead, ignoring the burning pain in his side as he chased after them, slipping on the concrete steps leading up to the backyard. He made sure they were gone before hauling the heavy doors shut, tying a length of thick rope through the handles. Lena had freed herself by then, shivering as she watched him.

"Those guys came at me out of nowhere," her teeth were chattering. "They dragged me to their car, tied me up and broke in here. It sounded like they wanted to frame you for something."

He pulled a towel from the shelf by the dryer, tossing it to her before he dug through the basket of clean clothes on top of it.

"You're okay, though, right?"

"Yeah," she stripped off her soaked clothes, flashing a blue-tinged smirk. "You were going to see me naked sooner or later, just be glad I picked black underwear this morning."

He laughed, laying one of his old baseball shirts on the washer.

"I don't have anything else that fits you, but it's better than nothing."

He groaned, staring at the streak of blood on his side. She gasped, dropping the towel as her hands flew to her mouth.

"Oh, God…"

"It's fine," he waved off her concern. "Whoever shot wasn't aiming, it barely grazed me."

He went over and picked up the towel, smiling at her pout as he started on her hair.

"What about you?"

She nodded, blushing when he kissed her forehead.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just thirsty."

She finished drying off, dropping the towel again to catch the shirt he tossed at her. She tugged it over her head, grabbing the lantern from the floor as she followed him upstairs.

"How'd you even end up with those guys in the first place?"

She made a few unsure noises, then huffed.

"Okay, so I snuck out after Kara was asleep," she finally admitted. "Ty told me about a place you guys like, I wanted to check it out."

He stared at her.

"You went alone?" he asked incredulously. "With it raining like this in the middle of the night?"

She scoffed, pushing past him.

"Like the rest of you never do anything stupid. Where's your first-aid kit?"

She went off to look for it before he could answer; he rolled his eyes, felt his way to the couch and plopped down. He'd left the curtains open so he could watch the storm, oily clouds flashing silver-blue as sheets of rain were blown down the empty street.

"You're pretty calm for someone who was just shot at," she came back with the kit tucked under her arm; she set the lantern on the coffee table and sat down next to him. "Don't tell me it's happened before."

"When I was twelve," he rubbed his upper thigh. "I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

He kept still when she pushed up his shirt, holding it with one hand as she dug around in the kit with the other. It didn't take her long to clean and bandage the cut, shallow as it was. He didn't have to ask how she'd learned to do it so quickly.

"Jason, you trust me, don't you?"

He blinked. Where had that come from?

"Of course I do," he answered, confused. "Why would you think I don't?"

She closed the kit and pushed it aside.

"Because you won't tell me anything, even though you already know pretty much everything there is to know about me," she crossed her arms. "It's starting to feel like you love keeping me in the dark."

He stood with her, taking her hand when she went to put the kit away. The most he had done was tell her the rest of the story with Emily at the garden, then more of the love-hate balance that had grown between him and Stephanie. How he wished he'd tried harder to save them both from themselves.

But he knew that wasn't what she was talking about.

"I'm not trying to keep stuff from you, Lena," he said. "There's just a lot of other shit I've had to deal with that I don't know how to tell you about, especially with all the crap you've already had to go through."

He put an arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

"I promise I'll tell you about it all eventually, I just need to finish sorting it out first."

She looked up at him a long while, then nodded.

"Okay," she laid her head on his chest. "I guess I can wait."

He smiled, hugging her tightly.

"Thank you."

<<<>>>

"Pathetic."

The spy's eager smile twisted into a nasty sneer, cold eyes narrowing in disgust. Just when things might have finally gotten interesting for once!

"Your opinions aren't important right now, Dusk," a deep voice crackled harshly through the headset. Dusk scoffed.

"Why are you still making me sit and watch them?" they demanded impatiently. "Why can't I just kill them now?"

There was a brief, muted argument in the background, then a distant door slammed shut.

"Because taking out either of them now would cause too much suspicion," the boss snapped testily. "We can't afford any more unnecessary risks."

They scoffed.

"You know I do my job thoroughly," they returned sharply. That was the biggest problem with this agency, red tape and the higher-ups always impeding what needed to be done. But nothing was more important than the mission, no matter what anybody else claimed. "No one would ever find them."

A second, shorter pause.

"You don't need to remind me how well you do your job, and it still doesn't change your orders. Their time will come," the old man continued. "But for now, we need them both alive, and for the time being, it's part of your job to keep them that way. Understand?"

Dusk shifted restlessly in the soaking soil, wishing they could cut away the dripping branches and leaves of these shrubs they'd been stuck in, fingers itching for the rifle waiting in their small apartment at the base. They knew how easy it would be to go against orders, how quickly this nonsense could all be over, but the punishment this time just wouldn't be worth it.

"But how much longer?" they asked, nearly whining in frustration. "And why me?"

"Because you're the only one available right now," the boss answered shortly. "And I understand your annoyance, but there are still a few things he needs to do for me. After that, you can do whatever you like with them."

Dusk giggled, the sneer lifting back into a twisted grin.

"I can hardly wait."