Shay Savage - Otherwise Unharmed

“It’s a sin,” I say.

“What is?”

“Covering.”

“Why do you say that?”

I narrow my eyes.

“Father Paul said so,” I tell her.  “Thou shalt not cover.”

Sister Margaret laughs softly, reaches out, and hugs me to her.

“Oh, Evan,” she sighs, “it’s covet, not cover.  Thou shalt not covet.  It means to want something that belongs to someone else.”

I furrow my brow as I consider this new information.

“Like Heather’s Game Boy?”

“Yes,” Sister Margaret says, “just like that.”

“So I already sinned?” I ask.  “I do want one.”

“Let’s pray about it, shall we?  Then you can get covered up and go to sleep.”

I woke with the memory still in my head.  I listened to Lia’s breathing for a few minutes before shoving myself out of bed and heading to the shower.  I brought my razor in with me and shaved in front of the little steam-proof mirror on the shower wall.

“Evan, your phone is ringing!”

“Which one?” I asked as I stuck my head out the shower door.

“The iPhone.”

“Can you bring it here?”  I turned off the water and stepped out onto the bathmat.  Lia came into the room with the phone in her hand, and I quickly glanced at the number.

Rinaldo.

There was no way any good would come out of a conversation with him, but I answered anyway.

“Yes, sir?”

“So you do still know how to use a phone,” he said.  He didn’t give me a chance to respond.  “Just tell me if it’s true or not, Arden.”

His voice was cold.

“I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“The fuck you don’t!” he yelled loud enough that I had to hold the phone away.  I looked up at Lia and motioned her out of the room.

“Take the price off her head,” I said when Rinaldo went quiet.  “I don’t have anything to say to you until you get rid of that contract.”

“It got your attention, didn’t it?  At least you answer the fucking phone.”

“I didn’t have my phone until recently,” I replied.  “Confiscated along with a lot of shit from my apartment.”

“You never used to be a man of excuses.”

“Things change.”

“Apparently.”  There was a long pause.  “Tell me why.  You knew I was going to get you out of there—so why?”

“Revoke the contract.”

“No.”

“Then I don’t have anything else to say.”

“Is it the money?  Jesus, Evan—I paid you more than anyone else in my outfit for a job.”

“I know, sir.”

“So, what is it?” Rinaldo demanded.

I wanted to tell him, but if he suddenly stopped being concerned about me, the information would get back to Gavino.  If he suspected me, I’d be screwed.

“Everything happens for a reason,” I said simply.  “Sometimes you don’t get to know what the reason is, though.”

There was another long moment of silence from the other end of the phone.

“So that’s it?” he asked.

“For now.”

“I’m disappointed,” Rinaldo said, his voice tight.  “The contract stays, and yours is added.  I can’t have you working for the competition, Arden.  We’re done now.”

He hung up.

“Fuck,” I muttered.  I placed the phone down on the bathroom counter and looked up.  Lia was peeking in the doorway.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“No one.”

“Evan…”

“It doesn’t matter.”  I shook my head and headed back into the shower.

I probably should have just stayed half-shaven.  When I got out, Lia was sitting on the bed, waiting for me with my phone in her hands.

“I didn’t mean to look at it,” she said before I could ask her anything.  “It wouldn’t stop beeping, and I didn’t want to interrupt again.”

“What is it?” I asked.

She handed the phone to me.  There was a text message on it from Jonathan.

$1 mil.  Every fucker in the nation will be gunning for you.

“Shit.”

“I’m pretty sure I know what that means,” Lia said.  “He’s after you now, too, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a lot of money.”

“Enough to bring every contract killer known to man to Chicago.”

“Jesus, Evan!  What are you going to do?”

“Stay out of the crosshairs,” I replied.  “We’ll probably have to move again.  I’m hoping today will bring me the information I need to get us out of the area altogether, but if the price stays on my head, it’s not going to be enough.  I can only hope Rinaldo will listen to me when it’s all over.”

I went over to the dresser and grabbed the SIG handgun.  I checked the chamber, made sure it was loaded, and flicked the safety on before walking back to Lia and handing it to her.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“It’s a gun,” I smirked.  “If you need it, use it.”

“Evan, I’ve never shot a gun in my life!”

“It’s easy,” I informed her.  “Just point it, click the safety off, and pull the trigger.”

Lia furrowed her brow but then nodded and dropped her head down to look at the phone in her other hand.

“Evan?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Who’s the woman on the phone with you?”

I glanced at her and then activated the phone.  The picture of me with Bridgett standing in front of The Bean was displayed as the background image.  I had completely forgotten it was there.

“No one.”  I said as I walked out of the room.

“I’m not trying to pry,” Lia said as she followed me out.  “It’s just that you’ve never talked about any old girlfriends or anything.”

“She wasn’t my girlfriend.”

“Well, she obviously meant something to you.  You haven’t mentioned a sister, either.”

“I don’t have any family.”

She grabbed my upper arm with her hand, and I stopped and turned around.

“What?” I asked, somewhat tersely.

“Who is she?” Lia asked again.  “I don’t like the evasiveness here.”

My hands were shaking just slightly.  I could tell by the look in her eye that she wasn’t going to let it go.  I was going to have to tell her something, and once I did, she was going to wish she’d never asked.

“She was a hooker,” I said, hoping that would be enough.  “Those are the kind of girls I’m used to—hookers.”

Lia narrowed her eyes a bit.

“She doesn’t look like a hooker.  She’s all dressed up.”

“Christ, Lia—drop it before I actually tell you!”

“Tell me what?”

I dislodged myself from her grip and went to the closet for my duffel bag of weapons.

“Evan-”

“I have to go to work,” I said.  I brushed her aside as I grabbed my Beretta and holstered it under my arm.  As I moved toward the door, I made the mistake of looking back at her eyes.

The look on Lia’s face tore at my heart.  I didn’t want her to know any of this.  I didn’t even want her to know Bridgett ever existed, and now she was pushing me for the real story—a story that was going to scare the shit out of her.

Maybe she should know.  Maybe she has a right to know what I did.

“She betrayed me,” I said quietly.  “I killed her.”

I turned around and left the apartment.

Nothing I did after that was right.

It was nine-thirty in the evening, and I was scouting out the best position for sniping on the rooftop near the drop-off location.  I wasn’t actually planning on doing any shooting—I had no target selected, and Gavino had ordered me here just for the sake of protecting the group if something went wrong, but I already knew it was going to go to hell in a handbasket shortly after midnight, and I wasn’t going to save them from that.

Trent said he had a whole SWAT team at the ready, and they would be there just in time to catch Gavino Greco and his collection of illegally imported human slaves.  He’d go away for life if he was lucky.  I was at a safe enough distance that I wasn’t concerned about being caught up in the bust, assuming Trent wasn’t planning on sending someone to my location to grab me.

Of course, I wasn’t where I told him I was going to be.  I was on top of a funky, S-shaped condominium complex on the other side of the river.  It had a better view and a lot more cover than the building near the substation next to the rail yard, but mostly, it was a perfect location because it was not where Trent thought I would be.

The more I had thought about his obvious deception during our last conversation, the more I was convinced he planned on screwing me over.  He’d go back on the deal and have me arrested along with the rest of them.  Maybe he’d try to keep me under his thumb and use me again, and maybe he’d just let me rot, but he definitely wasn’t planning on keeping our agreement.  I was sure of it.

I found the perfect spot and got myself set up near the railings at the top of the building.  There were a few little garden areas around, as well as some tables and chairs for residents, but the area was closed after nine and no one was about.  There was also easy access back down to the ground via a long flight of stairs that led to the parking lot.  I pulled the Barrett out of its bag and quickly assembled it, carefully going through a complete functions check.  I made sure there was a bolt in the chamber before sitting back and eating the sandwich I had tucked away in the bag.

No reason to kill on an empty stomach.

I tapped my foot against the ornately tiled roof, checked the night-vision scope to make sure everything was functioning correctly, and sat back again.  I didn’t mind the waiting—I was used to it—but this little mission had a different feel than most.  Assuming everything went well, it could very well be my last.  It was what I wanted.