Page 83 of Deadfall

37

EMERSYN

Six Months Later - Age 21

I wrapped my arm around the guard and slit his throat before I pulled my handgun and shot another as he advanced. Bullets peppered the wall and I lunged for cover. I popped up and heard their boots thud against the ground as they ran towards the corner. Anticipating them, I waited—they didn’t even hesitate or check before they turned—idiots. I shot both rapidly and moved on.

After the discussion about my father, I’d settled into the cold, resolute path of what we had to accomplish. I executed each job with precision and closed myself off to anything other than what would help me and the team succeed. Any time I started to question what I was doing, or felt any sort of way about my decisions, I simply shoved the unwanted emotions aside. Healthy? Absolutely not. But, it was all I was capable of handling or I felt on the verge of a breakdown.

I carefully entered a room, shot the enemy in the corner and stalked towards the door across the way. It barged open before I could reach it. It was too late to dive for cover—I shoved the gun away and got in close. I put a bullet in the man’s stomach, and a knife into his throat, before I pulled us both to the ground. A surge of anger came up out of nowhere and I tore the knife out only to bury it again.

I straddled the man and watched his life bleed away with each stab, horror and fear in his eyes. Even once the light faded, I still hovered there, panting—gasping in air like I’d been the one to die. A hand on my shoulder had me acting without thought. I turned and grabbed whoever it was by the vest and brought my gun up to their chin.

“It’s just me,” Riggs snapped. “Jesus, Syn, get it together.”

I tried to shove him away as I got to my feet. Instead, he grabbed my arms and pushed me against the wall.

“I could have shot you!” He growled. “You can’t leave yourself exposed like that before it’s all clear.”

“Fuck off,” I snarled and moved past him towards the door.

We met Hangman and the others near the idling SUV.

“Alright, final tally,” Hangman said around his usual after-a-job toothpick. “How many did you get, Sinny? I think my total was around ten.”

“She got more than that.” Mouse tossed his gear in the back of the SUV. “She left quite the trail.”

“Every turn, I came across her handiwork,” Jamal agreed. “I’m surprised she even left any for us.”

I climbed into the SUV and stared out the window as we headed back to the safe house. Their words meant nothing, nor did they cut through the numbness that was my constant companion. I tuned out the chatter and looked out the window, bent on ignoring everyone. I didn’t care how many kills I’d gotten, just that they were all dead. I’d humored Hangman with his bets for a while at first, but lately I hadn’t been in the mood.

Once we got back to the safe house, I shut myself away in my bedroom and peeled off my blood-splattered pants and ripped shirt while the shower water heated. I leaned heavily over the sink and tried not to think too hard about anything.

I heard the door of the bedroom open and shut with a quiet click. I palmed a knife, but instinct told me it was probably Riggs. Sure enough, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. The space was immediately too small and his large form made me feel claustrophobic. I stepped into him, my knife against his groin.

“Get the fuck out,” I growled.

Riggs smirked. “Not this time, Syn.”

His fingers closed around my wrist. Quickly and efficiently, he pressed my hips against the counter and twisted my wrist behind my back. He’d warned me this was going to happen eventually and I’d walked on eggshells ever since. Now that it was finally happening, I almost felt relief.

“Drop it,” he hissed in my ear. His warm breath sent goosebumps coasting across my skin despite the steam rapidly filling the room with heat. When I didn’t obey fast enough, he moved my arm an inch and I grunted in pain and released the blade.

“Good girl,” he breathed.

At his words, I felt the tension in my chest release. My reaction was so shocking, I didn’t resist when he guided both of my hands to the counter.

“Keep them there.” Another command.

“Stay still.” I felt him move the blade under my sports bra. “Or I might slip.”

He cut the fabric away and tossed it aside, then moved to my panties. I was barely breathing, not sure if I wanted him to be doing this, but I’d seen the look on his face when he’d walked in—he wasn’t taking no for an answer. That sent a thread of panic through the haze of whatever spell he had me under. I shoved my hips back into him to try and get some space and regain some control. Instead, I felt the blade dig into my hip. Riggs growled and his other hand went to my throat. He pressed his hips forward and pinned me more firmly against the counter.

“See what you made me do?” He brought the blade in front of my face and the panic unraveled further at its proximity to my scar. Blood glistened on the steel—my blood. I gasped in air, even though he wasn’t holding my neck hard enough to restrict. My panties slid down my legs, already cut enough to slip down on their own. There was something raw about being naked while he was still fully clothed. My mind fought against the vulnerability of it, even as my body had other ideas.

“Get out,” I rasped, my voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Riggs nuzzled into my ear. “Too late for that.”