chapter 3
One week later…
“The kid’s gonna do the job.”
The day had started out so normal. So happy. Rafe would never have guessed that today would be his last day. His last opportunity to laugh with his sister. His last chance to hold Nonna. Those simple words from Orion and he was running to save a life.
One step in front of the other. Heart pumping. Breathing ragged. Rafe ran as fast as he could.
Please don’t let me be too late. Please don't let me be too late. Please, God, if you are fucking up there, do not let me be too late.
Everything had gone to shit in a matter of moments.
One minute he’d been with his sister enjoying the day on Coney island. The next, he’d gotten the call. One he’d dreaded.
Orion, the fucker, had called go on the Del Tino job. Worse, he’d assigned Noah. Shit was so fucking sideways. He’d been with Lucia and there hadn’t been time to get her home, so he’d brought her and tucked her safely in the car. At least he prayed to every god he could think of that she stayed safe.
Rafe thought he’d been able to postpone this. He prayed he’d warned their undercover agent in time. But hell, he understood what would happen if Noah killed an undercover FBI agent. The kid’s life would be over. All because he believed in the organization that he worked for. All because he trusted the words Rafe had fed him.
Up until now, their hits together had been government sanctioned. Clean hits, clean kills. For the ones that were less sanctioned, the ones that were under the table, Rafe had only been on one of those himself. And that one had gone horribly wrong…for ORUS.
Luckily, Rafe had managed to get word out to the FBI. There’d been one hell of a firefight, and they’d lost an ORUS agent. One just a little older than Noah. And Ian, another ORUS agent, had been injured on that mission. Nothing serious, just a dislocated arm.
Rafe had a sinking feeling that mission had been a test. And he was pretty sure, he'd failed. Orion hadn’t given him another kill mission after that.
But he was okay with that. Rafe had managed to save the target’s life, and keep most of the ORUS agents alive. That had been something that was important to him, a condition he’d worked out with the Bureau.
Most of those agents thought they were working for the good guys. They had no idea what was happening behind the black curtain. So when he'd gone undercover, he made a point to essentially negotiate for their lives. And so far, it had worked. But he had no idea how much longer he’d be able to keep the charade going.
There were a lot of other missions that he wasn’t a part of. He could only assume that Orion didn’t trust him enough. Or maybe there was something about him that screamed he was one of the good guys.
Rafe had no idea. It was a constant fight to stay ahead of the game.
He knew Orion kept a close watch on him even though he was part of the inner circle. So to the outside world, he did everything as he was supposed to. Completely by the book. The ORUS book. Until now.
Would he make it in time to save his agent? Would he make it in time to save Noah’s future? He was breaking every rule in the book, but the kid’s life would be over if Rafe couldn’t pull this off.
Legs burning, he ran straight for the Del Tino house but stopped short when he heard shouts coming from the courtyard.
"Noah, stop," Rafe shouted as he ran as fast he could toward the back of the house.
The kid spared him a quick glance. "I can do this, Rafe. Let me prove myself. I don't need a teacher anymore."
Then Noah raised his gun, and Rafe was on the move.
Run. Faster.
Calhoun stepped into the courtyard at exactly the wrong time. And Rafe had seconds to make it work. Even as he was running, he tried to reason with Noah. "Kid, you don't want to do this."
But Noah was already raising his gun. And then Rafe did the only thing he could…he stepped in front of a bullet.
Pain. All Rafe registered was searing heat spreading from the center of his chest through his whole body. From his sternum to his fingertips; from his ribs to the tips of his toes.
Damn it, that hurt like a son of a bitch. Next time, don't teach the kid so well. It was too late for that now. His mentee, his friend, his brother had shot him. Not that he’d given the kid any choice.
In those split seconds, Rafe had to make a choice. To protect himself and his family, his life, or to protect his mission, the oath he’d taken to do the right thing. He prayed to God he’d chosen correctly.
He heard Noah's anguished curse, and he held himself perfectly still. He prayed to God Calhoun had run the moment the bullets started to fly. Rafe knew that by taking those bullets, his cover was blown. He couldn’t go back into ORUS, not after this. Orion would see it as a betrayal.
So either way, whether he liked it or not, Rafe DeMarco was a dead man. And better to go out this way, where he might still be able to look out for his family, than to go out the other way and leave them to the mercy of everyone else.
The kid stood over him, cursing quietly under his breath. Rafe forced his mind to quiet, and his heart rate to slow. Because as anguished as Noah was right now, he’d get his shit together in seconds.
Hell, Rafe knew enough to understand that mere seconds had passed as it was. Even though thanks to the pain, it felt like a fucking lifetime. He inhaled deeply, then held the breath for a moment before letting it slowly drain out of him. He used the tactics he learned at ORUS to calm his heart rate, to slow it down, to make himself appear dead.
But then something else happened. Another gunshot rang out. Noah's curse was no longer anguished, but angry and pained. What the fuck? Did someone shoot him? Had Orion sent another operative just in case, to tidy up loose ends? Holy shit, had he gotten the kid killed too? What a fucking—
And then he heard it, feminine screams. He filtered out the fear, and he knew that voice. Lucia. Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. What was she doing here? Why did she come after him? They’d had a deal. She’d nodded that she understood. What the fuck did he do now?
The temptation was strong to open his eyes and tell her he was okay. But if they'd shot Noah, then ORUS knew he’d betrayed them. And he had to protect them both and stay the fuck dead. Oh God, his sister.
Rafe's gut twisted and clenched as the urge to reach out to comfort her pulled strong. To reach out to comfort the both of them.
But he needn't have bothered. As Noah leaned over him, clutching his shoulder, he forced himself to take Rafe's pulse. And Rafe held as still as he could until Noah took his fingers away. He fucking hoped this worked. Because Noah needed to remember his training. Needed to get himself the fuck out of there. Rafe just prayed that he took Lucia too.
Noah's voice was low, gravelly. "Lucia, listen to me. We have to get out of here."
His sister didn't say anything. Just clutched onto him, his shirt. Rafe had to resist the urge to flinch back so that she didn't feel the thin bulletproof vest underneath his T-shirt. Lay still, asshole. You have to pull this off. Their lives are in danger if you don't.
"Rafe. Rafe. Wake-up. You can't do this. You can't be dead. Not dead. Not dead."
Lucia just kept repeating the same thing over and over again. Fuck, she was going into shock. Noah needed to do something. Rafe could hear his friend’s low, hushed tones.
"Lucia. Lulu. Come on. We have to go.” But Rafe’s sister didn't answer. She sat there, clutching onto his T-shirt. Her hand in his hair, willing him to move. Willing him to get up.
Her solemn pleas were evident in the way she whispered his name. The pain tore at Rafe’s chest. And it tore at him more than any bullet ever could. Her pain and sorrow touched him to the core. The pain he was feeling now was a mirror of what his sister was feeling. Of what his grandmother would feel. But he knew he had to do it. He knew he had to keep her safe. Keep all of them safe.
He just prayed to fucking God that Noah was up to the task of looking after his family. He trusted the kid. And he wished he didn't have to cause him the pain and guilt of knowing that he’d shot his mentor. If he knew Noah, the kid would carry this around with him for the rest of his life.
Rafe wished it didn't have to be like this. But there was no other way. Noah cursed under his breath again, and then Rafe could feel his friend move away from him. He could only assume that he was picking up Lucia, because bigger hands surrounded his sister’s and peeled them off his T-shirt. And then they were gone.
In the blink of an eye, his former life was over. He was no longer Rafe DeMarco, FBI agent, integral member of ORUS. Now, he was a dead man.
Dead man walking.