Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 151469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
“Get a coffee,” I order again, as I look into Goldie’s eyes.
“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?”
I turn my death stare his way. “Get a fucking coffee, Mr. Hayley.”
He withdraws, obviously seeing the murder etched on my face, casting his eyes across Goldie and Otto too. “I’ll be back,” he declares, his chest swelling in fake confidence before he exits, slamming the door behind him.
“Don’t let him back in or I’ll kill him.”
Goldie nods, flicking her eyes to Otto behind me, who swiftly leaves to keep my prey at a safe distance. I move toward the bed and sit down, reclaiming Beau’s hand. “Leave me,” I murmur quietly, lowering my head to the mattress and closing my eyes. I’m beat. Exhausted. I just need quiet for a moment. Quiet and calm.
I doze off to the hypnotic sound of Beau’s heart monitor.
And vivid images of death and blood.
I jump and look back when the door closes, finding a nurse in the room. She raises her hand in apology for waking me. “Time for some pain meds.” She moves to the other side of the bed and starts fiddling with Beau’s cannula as I look down at my watch. I’ve been out for only ten minutes.
“Russian?” I ask, detecting the remnants of an accent.
She smiles. “I’ve been in the States for twenty years, and I still can’t hide it.”
I watch as she tries to unscrew the cap, fiddling terribly, her hands shaking. I rewind back only half an hour, to when the other nurse pumped some morphine into Beau’s veins. I look up at the nurse. “Where’s Vera?”
She falters in her moves and doesn’t look at me to answer. “On her break.”
My eyes fall to her working hands again. “You okay there?”
She laughs. “Yes, they’re so fiddly.”
“Probably because you have no fucking idea what you’re doing.” I drop Beau’s hand and stand fast, pulling my gun and aiming it across the bed. “Put the syringe down.”
She drops it fast, eyes round, and backs up against the wall, her hands in the air. “Sir, please,” she cries, alarmed, shaking more now than before.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m a nurse.” She points to her name badge and quickly raises her hands again. “Please, sir, I’m just here to do my job.”
The door behind me bursts open, and Otto and Goldie appear, taking in the scene, both stunned. “What the fuck, Kel?” Otto says, his hand twitching, like he’s unsure whether he needs to draw or not. Truth be told, I don’t know either. My head is fucked, my eye off the ball, exhaustion still clouding my brain.
“I’ll show you my papers,” the nurse nods jerkily.
I blink, swallowing, trying to straighten out my mind. “Show me.”
“Okay, yes, I’ll show you.” She reaches for her pocket, and I start to relax. But then I see something turn in her eyes, and her stance changes, her hand going to her back rather than her trousers.
“Kel!” Otto bellows.
I close one eye, getting my aim straight, and squeeze the trigger, and she flies back into the wall before falling to the floor in a heap, wailing and crying, speaking a load of Russian shit I don’t understand.
“What the fuck?” I breathe, rounding the bed and going to her, grabbing the front of her uniform and yanking her up close to my face. “Who the fuck sent you?”
She snarls and spits in my face.
So I put a bullet between her eyes, and the echo seems to drag on forever. I slowly rise and look across to Goldie, who’s up against the door, stopping anyone from coming in. And Otto is staring. Just staring at the dead woman on the floor. “Place your bets on who sent her,” I say quietly. So maybe Sandy wasn’t in that factory when I popped off half a dozen Russians.
“I let her in,” Otto murmurs. “I fucking let her in.” His hands go into his hair. “Fuck!”
That’s it.
My time thinking is up. I get my mobile out and dial.
“What are you doing, Kel?” Goldie asks.
“I’m getting Beau out of here.” I go to her bed and gaze at her unconscious, oblivious face. And I realize now why the woman in this bed is unrecognizable to me. It’s not only because she looks sallow. It’s because she looks peaceful. I would do anything to maintain this look on her, but through my turmoil, my agony, I appreciate one thing. I can’t do that. I can’t take care of her and kill the enemy. I can’t even do it with Otto and Goldie by my side. It’s too much of a risk.
For the first time, I need to do things differently.
Which means revealing who I am.
The call connects, and Spittle gives me a wary hello. “Find me a doctor. The best,” I order.
“And what do I get in return?” he asks, sending my jaw into spasm. But . . . Beau.