______________________________

 

 

I WOKE LIGHTHEADED and nauseous.

My eyes opened to let in blinding light, followed quickly by the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

Pim stared down at me, her nose almost on mine, tears dangling on her lashes like jewels. “You’re awake.”

I swallowed back the rank stench of death and jerked in her arms as every injury and illness I suffered returned in full force.

The pressure almost knocked me out again.

Fading, promising, whispering.

I was so close to succumbing—to letting the sanctity of sleep prevent more buckling pain.

All it would take was one breath and slip.

But I couldn’t.

I clung tight to life even though it hurt like fucking hell.

For any normal person, passing out would be met in equal amounts of relief and exhaustion. They’d accept that they’d done enough…for now…and to rest—to be able to admit that they’d reached the point where nothing else was possible and to finally, finally relax after decades of running and revenge.

But I never claimed to be normal.

The blackness I’d embraced still coated my insides and thoughts. An inky slime that whispered of power and destruction as deadly as gunpowder.

I didn’t want to give up its power, but at the same time, I didn’t want to touch Pim with such filth residing in my heart.

If I passed out now, who knew what I’d be when I woke. Who knew if Daishin’s soul would hitch a ride on mine. If reincarnation would switch my life for his and I’d forever end up in purgatory for what I’d done.

No.

The only thing I could do—the only thing possible, even in my current state of brokenness, was to stand and breathe and live.

Looking up, I winced at the terror on Pim’s face. She studied me as if afraid of the same thing I was—searching my eyes, hoping to see the man she knew but horrified she’d find something different.

Flinching beneath every agony, I reached up and cupped her cheek. “I’m okay, little mouse.”

She crumpled over me, her hair curtaining around us as she kissed me everywhere. I permitted her love, stroking her back, willing her to understand I hadn’t forgotten who I was or what I’d promised.

I wanted to snap my fingers to a time where we were alone and safe and the aftermath of this carnage was behind us so we could rest, but it wasn’t over yet.

I had other tasks I needed to complete.

“Help me stand,” I whispered, grateful when she obeyed, scurrying off me and lending me her strength.

In an impossible move, I managed to trade the floor for air and stood swaying as vertigo twisted my world upside down.

I stumbled forward—barely cohesive—holding onto the woman I needed more than anything.

My ankle had put in its sick notice and stopped working days ago. My elbow was a close second to pulling a worker’s strike, and my shoulder felt as if the bullet hole had increased until my entire joint was open to the elements.

In short, I needed to rest after some serious medical attention.

But I couldn’t.

Not yet.

Tonight wasn’t finished even though dawn had arrived.

I grunted as Pim kissed me again, dragging my thoughts from things to do to people I needed to care for. Her lips were rampant and passionate, more forceful than she’d ever been.

Latching her arms around me, she pressed kisses to my sweaty, bloody face and breathed strangled whispers into my ear. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

I pulled her away, narrowing my eyes at the finger lacerations swelling purple around her neck.

Goddammit.

I’d done my best to keep her safe, yet again, I’d failed.

I shook my head, cursing the unstable room and the steady creep of my condition tiptoeing into my tiredness.

The mess.

Fuck, the mess all around us.

The stench of death. The reek of blood. The sight of utter mayhem. My condition normally meant I was tormented by numbers and patterns. As long as I could avoid repetitive songs or thoughts, I could get by.

But not today.

Today, my OCD latched onto the vile ruin of Mercer’s home, and I couldn’t focus on anything else.

Brain. Gore.

Mess, mess, mess.

Pushing Pim away, I regretted the hurt I put on her face but couldn’t ignore the hated voices inside my head. They were a demanding lot—a cruel task master with the never-ending chant of clean, clean, clean.

But they were better than the blackness I’d sampled—the blackness I would never taste again. I accepted the punishment and hiccup in my thoughts, bowing beneath the pressure to obey.

I dragged my good hand through my hair, finding more bruises on my scalp than yesterday. “It’s too much. I need to clean.”

I had no products, no bleach, but I’d fallen down the slippery slope to the pit where I’d always hoped Pim would never see me. I wouldn’t be able to stop the compulsion until the mess was gone and everything righted the way it was before.

Throwing her a look of utter dismay and self-condemnation, I dragged my weary form back to Daishin and pulled at his ankles.

I’d done this.

I’d fix it.

Pim drifted closer as I commanded my depleted body to haul the dead man’s weight. The determination to toss him outside and stop him from marring this perfect family home was too loud to ignore.

Soft hands landed on my shoulder blades. “El.” Pim’s voice remained battered and bruised, stilted and stiff. “El, stop.”

“Can’t. Need to get it clean.”

“You need to rest. We all need to rest.”

I shook my head, tugging Daishin’s ankles once again, sliding his corpse through disgusting body fluids. “I’ll rest once it’s clean.”

Voices sounded behind me as someone guided Pim away from my angry jerks that weren’t quite strong enough to lug a body. Female voices murmured as a black shadow fell over Daishin, hinting I had company.

He didn’t touch me, but his French voice lowered with understanding rather than judgment. “It seems the men most bound by their passions are the worst to pay.” A hand wrapped around one of Daishin’s ankles, bumping me away until we each held one leg.

I didn’t like sharing tasks. This mess was because of me. I would be the one to clear it, but Mercer appeared in my vision, distorting my drive, my endless craving to disinfect.

I blinked, focusing just long enough to understand Mercer tried to offer me a lifeline before I drowned in compulsive complication.

He carried his own wounds and injuries from a night of fighting, but instead of condemning me or ridiculing me for a chemical unbalance I couldn’t change, he nodded as if my need to eradicate tonight wasn’t a stupid idea at all.

He didn’t smile, deadly serious and just as intense as he had been while killing trespassers in his home. “I have migraines. Had one ever since you entered my house. I get it, Prest. I’ll help you clean. And then…fuck, then I’m taking my esclave to bed and not coming out for days.”

Knowing he’d help me fix this slaughterhouse ought to have taken pressure off my rampaging need to clean, clean, clean, but just like I didn’t want help removing Daishin’s body, I didn’t want him taking away my other jobs.

I didn’t want help cleaning. I needed the sole responsibility—the gluttony of hard work. The utmost satisfaction of putting something right that I’d damaged.

Having his help ruined that.

Snatching my hands off Daishin’s ankle, I skipped to another chore I could do without his interference.

It was suddenly very, very important to my analytic brain. “I need to count them.”

Twenty plus Daishin.

There had better be twenty-one dead Chinmoku. Otherwise, my tired and agony-riddled brain might very well have a stroke and finish me off for them.

“Okay. Go count. I’ll ask my staff to help fix this catastrophe.” Mercer clapped me on the back, smiled at Pim, then wrapped his arm around his wife and vanished into the house.

I should be grateful.

I should thank him.

But I wasn’t grateful.

I was furious he’d stolen any hope at redemption.

Good riddance.

If I had the energy, I’d tear around cleaning before he had time to rally his help. But that was the point in all of this. I didn’t have the energy to do anything, and that made my brain even worse.

Franco and Selix stood by, no longer enemies but soldiers in the same war. I nodded at Selix, thanking him without words for what he’d done.

He nodded back, a quick salute to his temple before following Franco to find more cleaning gear.

Alone in the foyer with the dead leader of the faction I’d been terrified of with the woman I was now petrified of scaring away with my stupid fixating brain, I slowly turned to face her.

“Pim, I…”

What could I say? How could I explain the bone-deep need to clean this place from top to bottom? How could I admit that sleep would be impossible, rest, healing, sailing away—all of it utterly banned to me until I’d done this.

She pressed herself close, threading her arms around me and tucking her head into the crook of my neck. She didn’t care blood covered us or that I stunk to high heaven; she merely held me and didn’t need to say anything else.

Accepting what she gave me, finally trusting her when she said she loved me enough to overlook my flaws and accept me unconditionally—just as I’d accepted her with her scars and panic attacks and any other issues that might haunt her for the rest of her life—we turned together and headed outside to complete the grisly tally of death.

* * * * *

It took hours.

Between my hobbling and stiffness and the scattered locations of the Chinmoku’s resting places, dawn turned to morning long before we’d finished counting.

With each body we found, I ticked it off on a mental checklist, and my brain settled a little more.

Pim held my hand the entire journey, never complaining or suggesting someone else finished counting for me.

I didn’t know if it was because her throat was still too sore to talk or if she’d reverted to her favouritism of silence—but I was grateful.

We’d won but we’d lost a fair few of Mercers men. Four lives to be exact. Four lives that had died yet again for me.

Guilt sat heavy. Triumph over winning not an option.

Tallying the deaths took us all over Mercer’s estate, and by the time we counted the final bodies and trailed down the spiral staircase from Mercer’s bedroom, the foyer had already been removed of carcasses and stank of fresh bleach.

Maids and security guards alike donned rubber gloves, mopping, scrubbing, removing any evidence of what had happened.

The crime scene was erased.

Once again, I wished I was normal and could breathe a sigh of relief and be done with it. But my idiotic brain couldn’t let me rest.

Even though my eyes barely functioned, my eyelids drooped heavily, and I now leaned on Pim instead of walked beside her, I kept patrolling the house until I found Mercer speaking to Franco in hushed French in the kitchen.

They both looked up as Pim and I interrupted, their faces just as ashen and drawn.

At least one good thing about tonight had come true. Daishin had lied when he hinted he’d brought more than law stated to fight me. He’d stuck to the twenty men permitted.

And we’d found twenty-one with him included.

All of them dealt with and no longer a threat to Pim or my family.

Some had fatal stab wounds. Others had bullet holes. But all of them were deceased.

Thank God.

Mercer raised an eyebrow, knowing full well I wasn’t here for a social call. “Need something?”

“Yes. A truck.”

“A truck?”

I nodded. “Something large with lockable doors and opaque panels. And I need to buy it off you because I won’t be returning it.”

“Quoi?” He shook his head at his slip, morphing effortlessly back into English. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to load up the Chinmoku and drive them to Calais.”

“What?” Pim piped up, the first word she’d said in hours. “You can’t be serious. It’s almost lunchtime. What the hell are you going to do with twenty-one bodies at the port?”

I smiled, revealing a pastime I was well versed in. “I’m going to make them disappear.”

Mercer understood straight away. He prattled something off to Franco. I caught the words van, keys, and hurry.

Turning back to me, he added, “I have my own way of disposing of them. You don’t need to—”

“Yes, I do.” I allowed my temper to show. “This is my mess. It’s mine to clean up. You stole any chance I had at physically cleaning. The least you can do is let me take them out to sea and drop them into the deepest part of the ocean I can.”

Tess walked into the kitchen, her eyes widening as she towel-dried freshly washed hair. In grey track pants and black hoodie, she looked as if she’d just come back from the gym and not a shower to wash away an evening of murder. “Are you sure? All of them? Will your boat hold the weight?”

“The Phantom can carry hundreds, if need be. So yes. I’m sure.”

“In that case.” Mercer clapped his hands as Franco reappeared and handed him a key. “I guess we’ll help you load your cargo.”

* * * * *

I’d never driven a delivery van before.

Not that I would be driving today with my arm and leg buggered as they were.

Almost three p.m. and each Chinmoku was tucked up tight in plastic bags to prevent leakage and strapped into a massive sandwich of bodies.

The only thing hiding them from the public eye was a thin piece of metal siding and an old logo of a food delivery service.

Mercer returned after taking a phone call as we placed the last corpse inside.

He tucked his phone away then glanced at the van and back to me. “That was the chief of police. I’ve cleared a path for you. You shouldn’t encounter any road blocks or drunk driving barricades at this time of day. However, if you do, no one will ask questions. My reach doesn’t include border security or port officials, so you’re on your own there.” His eyes narrowed, evidence of his migraine paling his skin. “Please tell me you’re not going to drive onto the pier and unload bodies in plain sight—night or day?”

I smirked, fighting the heaviness of exhaustion. “No. They’re going to stay in the van. That’s their coffin.”

Mercer didn’t ask any more questions—either he didn’t want to know or he understood more than he should. “In that case goodbye, Prest. I’ll store your helicopter until you’re ready to retrieve it and you have my email if you need anything.” He stuck out his hand. “I’d say it was a pleasure. But it wasn’t.”

I shook his grip, wincing as my body cursed me for yet another painful action. “Likewise. I would prefer to forget this entire incident, but unfortunately, I have a token to remember you by with the gunshot to my shoulder.”

He grinned. “I have been told I’m unforgettable.”

“Yes, well.” I broke our handshake.

I should say thank you. I should promise to pay him back if he ever needed help, but I just wanted to get the fuck away as soon as possible.

I backed toward the van, and Mercer backed toward his home. We’d said all the farewells we were interested in, but our respective women drifted past us and met in the middle of the driveway. They smiled awkwardly then leaned in for a hug.

Suzette, the maid, also hugged Pim, offering Mercer’s son for Pim to cuddle in one last attempt.

With a laugh but a very visible wince, Pim denied the chance to hold the sleeping baby and slotted herself into my side. “We’ll stay in touch, I’m sure.”

Tess nodded. “I’d like that.”

More awkwardness settled, signalling our time to leave.

With nothing else to do and a van full of rotting Japanese samurais, we waved one last time and climbed into the vehicle.

Selix took the driver’s seat, I took the passenger, and Pim sat in the middle.

All of us silent.

All of us ready to go home.