Honored (City Series Book 4)(13)

"I'm going out. Don't leave here."

She mumbled something in response. I gave her one last lingering look, as I turned and went down the steps. I moved fast into the kitchen, pulled out a pad of sticky notes and a pen, and wrote her a message.

Ellie: DO NOT LEAVE. I will be back very, very soon to explain everything.

I stuck it up on the front door, locked the knob, shoved it closed behind me, and jogged down the steps.

I hated to leave her alone, but I had things I needed to do, and I needed to do them fast. I practically dove back into the car, turned on the engine, and sped out of my spot, heading back toward my restaurant. My mind was moving at the speed of light, calculating how long I had before Colm came looking for me. I guessed at least another hour, maybe two, before he figured out that it was me who stopped Max. But it could be less. I wasn't sure how long Max would be out, or if the cops had taken him in, or what.

There were too many loose ends. I cursed my impulsive stupidity. Before, I could have salvaged the situation, maybe figured out a way to keep Ellie alive while still winning over Colm. But as soon as she called the cops, all bets were off.

Still, I had my plan. It could work, even with this huge wrench thrown into the middle of things. Maybe I had to change a few details, alter a few moves, but it was still possible. And it was my only option.

I pulled into the alley behind the restaurant, killed the engine, and ran inside. Luis was prepping for the early dinner rush as I moved through the kitchen.

"Yo, boss," he called out, and I waved, not stopping.

I moved out into the hall and pushed open the door to my office. My heart was hammering in my chest, and I reached back to feel the gun tucked into my pants for reassurance. The room was empty, though, so I ran over to the safe I had tucked against a back wall. I entered the code and the door unlocked with a loud click.

"What's going on?"

I glanced up and saw Colin looking in at me.

"Nothing. I just need this cash."

He stared hard at me and shook his head.

"I know something's up. Colm keeps calling, and you've been missing all morning."

"Don't worry about it. Just business."   





 

He took a step inside. "Listen, I can help you."

Without answering, I whipped out my gun and held it leveled straight at his face.

"Inside," I said.

He gaped at me, shocked.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Get inside the office, or I'll kill you."

He blinked and stepped inside, his hands in the air. He began to smile, looking nervous.

"Is this some bad joke, Liam?"

"Not a joke. Sit on the couch."

He sat, his hands still in the air. I opened my desk drawer and pulled out a roll of duct tape.

"Hold your hands out."

He complied, wrists together.

"If you're in trouble, man, I can help. I'm on your side."

I set the gun down within reach and began to roll the tape tightly around his wrists. He winced, but I didn't care. I needed him to stay put, at least long enough for me to get away with the cash.

"I don't know which side you're on, Colin. I've never fucking trusted you."

I tore off the end and tossed the tap aside.

He laughed nervously. "Man, I'm your lieutenant. I'm you're number two. You know me."

I glared at him. "You were assigned to me."

His face suddenly got serious. I had never seen him look like that before.

"I swear, you can trust me," he said.

I ignored him and turned back to the safe. Inside, I had rolls of cash, at least ten thousand, probably more, along with fake IDs, passports, and another gun. I began to shove it all into an old gym bag I had stashed in the corner.

"What are you going to do with all that?"

"Nothing," I grunted.

"You can't run, Liam. If you're in trouble, let me help you."

I slung the bag over my shoulder and grabbed the silenced pistol again, slipped it back into my pants.

"Stay here for at least ten minutes. Then you can leave."

He shook his head. "Liam, please. Let me help."

Without another word, I pushed out of the office and strode into the kitchen.

"Luis," I called out.

"Yo, boss," he said, walking over to me.

"Take the next day off. Actually, take the next few days off." I paused and frowned, looking around. "Lay low, if you can."

He looked serious and nodded. "You okay?"

"I'll be fine. You just make sure you lay low for a little while."

"Okay, will do."

I took a step closer to him.

"How much do they know?" I said softly, nodding at the other guys.

"Less than me, which isn't much."

"Good. I'll see you soon."

He nodded, and I headed out the back door. I threw open the car door, tossed in my bag, and climbed into the driver's seat. I turned on the engine and sped off, racing toward Richie and his mom. I clenched my jaw, fear jolting through me.

I didn't have much time left. Colin would be free by now, or at least he would be calling Colm. I had to get Richie and his mom out of there immediately, before something bad happened to them.

I pressed down on the accelerator, thinking about nothing but getting there in time.

And as I blew through another stop sign, barely managing to check for other cars and pedestrians, a realization hit me straight in the chest: I forgot the fucking box.

The whole fucking reason I risked going back to my office at all, aside from the cash. The box was key to my whole plan. It had a whole slew of information, and it was the proof that I needed to get everything going. Colin had fucking distracted me, and I left it behind like an idiot.

I wanted to punch myself in the face. I wanted to crash my car. How could I have been so careless?

I let off the gas for half a second, unsure of what to do. I couldn't go back, not with Colin still there, but I also couldn't leave the box.

There was no real choice. Fuck it. I can get it later, I thought. Nothing mattered if Colm got to Richie first. I'd figure something out. One problem at a time.

I kept going, silently praying.





Chapter Twelve: Ellie


I woke up on a strange mattress in a nearly empty room, the events of the morning swirling around my brain.

Some guy had broken into my apartment, was about to kill me, but that couldn't be true. And then Liam showed up, out of nowhere, and shot the guy? I shook my head, feeling dizzy. I stared at the smooth white ceiling, like almost every other ceiling I had seen in my life, but somehow it felt different.

It wasn't my ceiling, I decided. That was the problem. It should have been my ceiling.

I knew it had happened, knew it was real, but I was having trouble believing it anyway. Everything flashed through my mind in bits and pieces, like an impressionist painting. It felt like a strobe light was going off in my brain, and with each new flash I caught another piece of what had happened. There was the man, pushing into my apartment; there he was, holding the gun to my face; the man standing back against the wall, gun leveled; Liam appearing; the man on the ground; Liam kicking him; running away. It was hard to hold myself together.   





 

I got up and stretched, looking around. The place felt spooky, like it was haunted, except in an opposite way. Instead of being full of something, it was way too empty, and the emptiness felt oppressive. The walls were bare and the furniture was all clearly secondhand. None of it matched and there was no attempt at making anything look decent. It was as utilitarian as possible. It was the complete opposite of a home. Instead of warm and inviting, it was cold and disinterested.

"Hello?" I called out.

There was no response. I padded softly out into the hallway and looked into the next room. It was completely empty, not even a speck of furniture. I checked the next few rooms, and they were all the same: completely bare, except for the dust that had accumulated over who knew how many days without cleaning. I walked slowly down the stairs, feeling the unfamiliar creaks and groans of the wood, and a bright yellow note stuck to the front door caught my eye. As I got to the bottom, I grabbed it, read it, and then crumbled it up and threw it onto the floor.

It must have been true if I was in Liam's safe house. Why did Liam have a safe house, anyway? Why did Liam have a gun, and how did he know somebody was trying to kill me?

Who was Liam Sullivan?

He hadn't told me anything in the car. He was too busy driving fast through the narrow city streets. I had probably been in shock and didn't press or ask him anything. I was probably still in shock. Frustrated with myself for not pressing him harder, I walked through the sparse living room and into the kitchen. Everything was drab and old, like it hadn't been touched since the seventies. I opened the refrigerator and made a face: empty. My stomach grumbled, so I went through all of the cupboards and drawers. Everything was empty. It was like nobody lived there, and never had.

For a brief second, I felt a rush of panic, and I had to force myself to take a few deep breaths. I was in a safe house, which meant that it was probably only used in emergencies. It made sense that nothing was stocked here. He'd be back with something to eat.

I walked back out into the living room and collapsed onto the couch, trying to get my thoughts together. The only thing I knew for sure was that Liam had saved me from whoever that man had been. I wracked my panic-stricken brain, trying to remember exactly what the man had said. He claimed that the packages I saw getting dumped into the river were bodies, but I was having trouble connecting the two things. He said I called the cops, and that was why he had to kill me. That part made sense at least; when the cops showed up and more or less blew me off, he must have thought I was telling them something.