Requiem

I shamelessly took advantage of his moment of weakness before it passed. For the first time in months, we lost ourselves in each other. Not a single moment did I worry or regret, and neither did Jared…until it was over.



Peaceful against his skin, my head rose and fel with his deep breath. “Don’t say it,” I said with a smile.



“It’s a little late to say anything,” Jared said, kissing my hair.



“You know, the Christmas party is next weekend.”



“I know,” he smiled, beginning to relax.



I stretched. “I assume you’ve bought a suit.”



“I did.”



“I need a dress,” I said, my brows pul ing together.



Jared laughed, momentarily forgetting about anything but the mundane details of our normal life.



We giggled and snuggled until the sun filtered through the curtains, and then Jared walked across the room to dress. I turned on my side to watch him, propping my head with my hand. Knowing how many bul ets and wounds he’d sustained in the last few years, his skin was flawless. Every inch of it.



“What are you plotting over there?” Jared asked, smiling.



“Absolutely nothing, I’m simply appreciating your form.”



He pul ed a pair of light blue boxer briefs up his legs and over his bare backside. “Is that so?”



I pul ed the sheet across the room with me, hunting for something casual to wear to Brown.



“That’s not fair at al . I should be al owed to appreciate as wel ,” he smiled. That smile quickly faded as he pul ed me behind him.



Bex knocked twice before walking in. “Geez! Real y?” he yel ed, closing the door.



“Knocking doesn’t count if you just walk in!” Jared growled.



I backed into the closet, mortified.



The door opened again, and Jared sighed. “We are al owed privacy,” he said, his voice low and angry.



“I’ve seen it al before,” Claire said. “Hey,” she smiled, poking her head into the closet. “You wanna hang out today?”



“Don’t even think about it,” Jared warned.



“She’s learning, isn’t she?” Claire snapped. “She’s got to see it sometime!”



“She’s not learning that,” Jared said.



“You’ve got business today, anyway,” Bex said.



Kim walked in, confused by the number of people in the room coupled with our lack of clothing. “I’ll just wait outside.”



“I’ll go, too,” Bex said.



Jared glared at Bex, and then at Claire. “She’s not ready.”



“I need her for a distraction in case Ryan shows up,” Claire said, irritated that she had to explain.



“So now she’s bait?” Jared seethed. “No.”



“Why don’t you tel me what’s going on and let me make the decision?” I said. Being spoken about as if I weren’t in the room was quickly becoming my least favorite thing.



“Claire’s going to take out Anderson,” Jared said, frowning.



“You’re going to kil him?” I asked. Claire nodded. “Right now?”



She watched me, annoyed.



“But, I have class,” I said, completely aware of how ridiculous the words sounded.



Jared pushed Claire and Bex backward. “That settles it. Out.”



Claire ducked under her brother’s arm. “If Ryan shows up, you could help. Otherwise it could get bad. He might try to protect him.”



“Wait,” I said.



Jared froze, and then turned to face me. “This is a bad idea. We can figure something else out.”



“Kim has class, too,” Claire said, her voice smooth and persuading. “Jared needs her help today.”



“She doesn’t go to class half the time, anyway, and stil has a four-point-oh,” I grumbled. “Watch you take a man’s life?” I said, unsure.



“Yes,” C.aire said. “And to help if Ryan shows.”



“Okay,” I shut the closet door to dress.



I put on black jeans, a black turtleneck and pul ed my hair back into a low bun. When I emerged, Claire’s face lit up.



“I have boots that would look amazing with that.”



“I can’t wear stilettos on a hit,” I said, shaking my head.



Claire wrinkled her nose. “Why not? I do it al the time.”



With that, we al made our way down the stairs and out to the drive. Jared and Kim took the Escalade, and Bex, Claire and I piled into the Lotus.



She drove us to North Providence, and turned on Mineral Spring Avenue, parking in a McDonald’s parking lot, not a block from the red brick building.



“You’re kidding. It’s seven in the morning! You’re going to gun down a cop in broad daylight?” I said in disbelief.



“Wil you pretend I know what I’m doing for two seconds?” Claire snapped. She slipped on her large glasses and nodded to an officer walking out to a cruiser.



“Anderson?” I said.



“Yep,” Claire said, waiting a beat after Anderson pul ed out onto the road before she turned the wheel and pressed on the gas to fol ow.



She stayed so far behind the black and white that I thought a few times we’d lost him. Claire’s eyes were focused, however, and what I couldn’t see, she saw as if it were right in front of her.



“Okay,” she said, slowing by the curb. “Let’s set up shop,” she said to her brother.



Bex nodded once, pul ing a hot pink duffel bag from the back seat.



I eyed the bag, and then smiled at Bex.



He rol ed his eyes. “I’ve tried to get her to bring black ones. Or even brown or green. She won’t.”



“I may be an assassin, but I’m stil a girl,” she said, popping a stick of gum in her mouth.



We kept a low profile; climbing over fences, dodging dogs on chains and play equipment, and final y sneaking into a two-story building. The stairs were unusable, the bottom half lay on the floor, and the top half hung by only a few debilitated boards.



“What now?” I whispered.



Bex threw me over his shoulder, and then hopped from the wal , to a beam, to the next floor. Even from my angle, he looked like Spiderman. I couldn't imagine why he thought he needed to float—and he could climb wal s easily enough.



Claire took a single leap, grabbing the landing where the stairs met the second floor, and then swung herself to our position.



“You can put me down, now, Bex,” I said.



“Not yet,” he said, taking a running jump to the half-exposed rafters. “Okay,” he said, helping me balance. We were sitting on a few beams lined together that formed what used to be the attic floor.



Claire lay on her stomach beside me, clicking the pieces of her rifle together. “They’re going to meet here,” she whispered. “Don’t make a sound.



Anderson is very paranoid. That’s how he’s made it this far. If you tip him off, it wil be a while before we get a chance like this again.”



I nodded, watching Bex pul his own rifle from the l bag. He didn’t set it on its stand in front of him; instead, he set it in front of me.



“Just look through the sights. Don’t take the shot, even if you have one. It’s just for practice,” he said in a low voice.



I began to whisper affirmation, but voices below startled me. Claire slowly put her hand on the barrel of my rifle, and then let go, situating herself to aim.



“Look through your sights,” she whispered. I did so, and three men in suits came into view, along with a man in uniform. “Count them. How many do you see?”



“Four,” I said.



Bex leaned in beside my ear. “Look by the entrance.”



I slowly moved my rifle in the direction he referred to, spotted two more. To my surprise, the men were not in uniform, but in suits. Their broad shoulders and extra-large frames reminded me of old movies about the Mob.



“Bodyguards,” Bex said. “Look closer at their jackets. You see the slight bulging on each side?”



“They’re armed,” I breathed.



With one finger, Claire tuned the tiny adjustment on her rifle. The tiny click sound it made seemed as loud as a jet engine to me, but the noise was so insignificant, it was inaudible to the men below.



Bex touched my elbow with the back of his finger. “She’s going to account for crosswind and range-to-target, but this is an easy shot. Once the gun goes off, try to relax. I’ll get you down and out of here, and by the time you blink twice, we’l be on our way home in the Lotus.” His low, even tone reminded me of an emcee for a televised golf tournament, or the narrator for an African Lion documentary...minus the accent.



Claire held her breath, peering into the scope. She bit her lip, and began to squeeze the trigger.



“Damn it,” she whispered. “Ryan just pul ed up. He’s a block north. You and Nina intercept him, I’ll meet you in twenty.”



“Wait—,” I began, but before I could protest, Bex lifted me off the wooden beams and climbed out the broken slats of an old vent, dropping more than thirty feet below. He landed smoothly, and tugged on my hand. “Come on,” he said, keeping his voice to a whisper.



We ran down an al ey as fast as my legs could move, slowing only when we reached the next street down.



“This way,” Bex said, leading me by the hand across the street, this time at a reasonable pace.



“Nina?” a voice call ed.



I turned to see Ryan walking toward us; confused, but happy to see me.



“Hey,” I forced my best smile, trying to control my breathing. “Clocked-in already?”



“Yeah,” he smiled, flicking his badge. “What are you doing this far north?”



“Uh….”



“I made her drive me to my girlfriend’s house,” Bex said.



Ryan blinked, and then scanned Bex from top to bottom. “Oh. I thought you were Jared.”



“Bex,” he said, offering his hand to Ryan. “Jared’s little brother.”



“Amazing, isn’t it?” I grinned.



“Wel , I’m supposed to meet my partner. I’ll call you tonight, Nina.”



“Meet your partner?” I said, surprised.



“Yeah. Work stuff.”



Bex and I traded glances, and then Bex tugged on my coat. “Wel …don’t want to keep Mandy waiting.”



Ryan smiled. “No man, you probably don’t. See you guys around.”



We walked at a forced pace until Ryan was out of sight, and then Bex pul ed on me again. He was barely at a jog, while I was sprinting ful speed until we reached the next block over, where Claire waited in the Lotus.



“It was a trap,” I said, breathless. “They were waiting for Ryan.”



“I know,” Claire said, her eyes focused and menacing.



She raced down the street, weaving in and out of traffic until we reached Brown University. “What about Ryan?” I said.



“I’ll take care of it. Bex wil wait here until Jared’s finished. I have some things to wrap up.”



I nodded, and then watched from the curb as she sped away.



“Tel me,” I said, turning to Bex.



“I only heard a little as we were leaving to cut off Ryan, but Donovan sent those men to col ect him. They were going to see what he knew about you…and us. Mainly Claire.”



“So now Ryan’s a target,” I said, unhappy.



“We’re al targets,” Bex said.



Chapter Fourteen



It's Your Funeral



“I was right,” I said, letting Jared take my coat. “It looks like Christmas threw up on the conference room.”



“You were right. And how ridiculous, when you’re decoration enough,” Jared said, kissing my cheek.



Loud, obnoxious music made it necessary to talk loudly to each other. Red, green and gold tinsel draped every surface in the room, and the employees, with their dates, loitered in a perfect half-moon around the DJ, careful not to cross the boundary of the dance floor.



“I’m going to tel the DJ to turn it down a notch or ten,” I said.



Jared nodded, watching with amusement as I walked with purpose across the wooden floor.



“Excuse me,” I said. The DJ bobbed his head, concentrating on the computer screen in front of him. “Excuse me!” I yel ed, tapping him on the shoulder.



“What can I do for you?” he yel ed back.



“Can you turn it down? I’d like for the guests to hear each other.”



The DJ frowned. “Ms. Bankovic asked that I keep it at party level.”



“Sasha?” I confirmed. “This is a business party, not a frat party,” I said over the music. “Turn it down.”



The DJ grudgingly complied, and I walked away, thoroughly satisfied. That warm, fuzzy feeling from my smal victory didn't last long. Sasha had Jared cornered a few feet from the punch bowl. He looked boredd and uncomfortable; she was giggling, gesturing to the mistletoe above them.



“Hi, Baby,” Jared said emphatical y, pul ing me to his side.



“Nina,” Sasha said, surprised. “What are you doing here?” I raised an eyebrow. “I mean…where have you been?” she hedged.



“With the DJ, insisting he lower the music to an acceptable decibel. Now, if you’re finished flirting, I’ll save my fiancé from beneath the mistletoe so you no longer have a reason to threaten him with your dry, clumpy lipstick.”



Sasha’s mouth fel open, but I didn’t give her enough time to fire back a reply. A slow song came over the speakers, and I pul ed Jared to the center of the dance floor.



His fingers pressed into my skin, eager and anxious. “Would it be redundant of me to say that I enjoy it very much when you’re jealous and mean?”



“Yes, but say it anyway,” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck. Before long, more couples joined us, and we were lost in a sea of lovers swaying to the music.



When the song ended, Jared left for the punch bowl line, and I stayed behind to greet co-workers and guests. Some were retirees, men and woman that had been with my Titan since the beginning. Seeing them brought back hundreds of memories, and it was soon a relief to welcome the new faces of the company.