“Lotus, duck,” he yells and with as much strength as he can muster, he kicks the table into the agent’s side, causing the grip on his weapon to falter.
I follow his instructions, moving just in time to dodge the stray bullet that flies across the room after the gun hits the floor. Liam rushes, and despite having only one good arm, gets the best of the man who’s betrayed him. He lands a punch, hitting Johnson in his jaw before taking one to the gut himself. Johnson charges forward, missing Liam by a hair as he slides to the left. The agent stumbles over. He manages to stop himself from falling face-first to the floor, landing on his hands with one knee bent. I watch in shock, wanting to scream out when I see the man reaching for his ankle. Something shiny catches my eye, but before the words can leave my lips, Liam tackles him to the floor. Agent Johnson doesn’t lose the grip on his gun he pulled from his holster, even though Liam is trying desperately to pry it from his fingers.
The two tussle around on the floor, struggling to keep the weapon away from each other. Suddenly, Liam belts out a deep roar, stilting his attempts. When I adjust my focus, I see Johnson’s buried his fingers into Liam’s wound. Blood seeps through the bandages as Johnson wraps his arm around Liam’s neck, squeezing for dear life.
“Shoot him,” Liam says, struggling to get the words out while patting at the agent’s forearm.
Pressure builds in my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. With a trembling hand, I aim the gun but for fear of striking Liam, I freeze. My fingers lock in place, and it takes everything in me not to scream. I watch my ex’s face turn pallid and push through my panic, realizing that if I do nothing, Liam will die. Ignoring the sweat that’s found its way into my left eye, I squint and aim for the agent’s shoulder.
The shot echoes through the small space, and I hunch my shoulders to shield myself from its deafening crack. The bullet meets its mark, sending Johnson staggering backwards, providing Liam with the opportunity to break free. He stretches a few feet away to the knife he’d lost during the fight. He grips the handle and whirls around, jamming the blade into his opponent’s chest.
I yelp and slap my hands over my mouth. Realizing I’m still holding the gun, I jump backwards and drop it, not stopping until my back bumps into the wall. This is the third person I’ve witnessed die in less than twenty-four hours. My nerves take over, and my legs give out, sending me stumbling to the floor. Sobs catch in my throat as I sit here wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
Liam grips his own injury, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. “You okay?” he asks in between breaths.
I can’t answer him. Instead I’m on my knees trapped in a trance. He scoots over to me, cupping my face, the blood on his hand as he caresses my cheeks soaks into my flesh. I’ve heard people say they’ve had out-of-body experiences in the event of trauma and always wondered what that felt like. Now, I know. I feel every stroke of his fingers and hear every word that pours out of his mouth. But I’m stuck peering down at myself and this whole scene.
“Constance… Constance.” Liam gently shakes me. “Breathe, baby.”
I gasp, my breath bursting out of me before my emotions win at this battle and I break down in his arms. I grab hold of him, digging myself into his body where I feel safe.
“Hey, hey. Listen, we’re good now. It’s over.” He lifts my chin with his finger until our eyes connect.
We’re so close, he’s so close, his breath hot and heavy on my lips. His gaze shifts from my eyes to my mouth and back. Liam’s just as stunned by the turn of events— I can see it when he looks at me. The pain, the shock, the hurt. It’s all there, hiding behind his emerald-colored irises as he does his best to console me.
My body calms, and I unexpectedly lean into him, mesmerized by his strength through it all and grateful he’s here to protect me. He lowers his head, brushing his lips across mine. Liam pauses, waiting for me to object, and though I know I should, I can’t. Nothing’s changed. There’s still so much damage in my heart. But when he crashes his mouth into mine, I don’t pull away. His touch sends an outflow of shivers to my core, and I shudder against him. I lose myself, and for only a moment, I forget the horror show that was our day and allow him to feed me with passion.
He releases me for a bit to reach into his back pocket and take out his burner phone. Missing his warmth, I lay my head on his chest. Liam dials a number and places the receiver to his ear. A few seconds later, a deep voice comes through the other end.
“Yo, JP. I need a cleanup, man.”
I’m unable to make out what the person is saying, but from my peripheral, I see Liam lowers the phone from his ear. He punches in a text to an unsaved number: Kearney, NE… Highway 10, mile marker 254.
“Got it?” he speaks back into the phone. “Okay, hit me back.” Liam ends the call and continues to hold me in his arms.
I don’t know when I succumbed to sleep or for how long, but I lurch up from the abrupt banging on the front door. The sun is out, casting its rays through the dusty, ragged blinds. Liam jumps up from the wooden chair and peeks through the chipped window covering. He looks to where I sit bunched into a knot on the old couch.
“It’s okay.” He relaxes his muscles and grips the doorknob.
I shake my head and stagger from the sofa to stand behind it. The last time he opened that door for someone, they turned on us. He unlocks it and opens it slightly. At first, all that enters is the left half of a very muscular man, before he’s in full view.
“Justin, thanks for coming, man,” Liam says.
The two men clap their hands together and pat each other on the back. Our visitor glances at me over Liam’s shoulder and smiles gingerly.
“Who’s this?” he asks.
Liam turns to face me with his right arm still draped across the man’s shoulder. “This is Constance. Lotus, this is Justin, we served together.”
My fear and hesitation must be visible, because both men tell me to relax, that it’s okay. But, I’m sorry, I can’t relax, and nothing is okay. This whole thing is a fucking mess and has my nerves and paranoia at an all-time high. When I don’t respond, Liam closes the door and pats Justin’s shoulder.
“Shit’s been that bad, huh?” Justin asks in reference to my reaction. “What are we cleaning up?”
Liam doesn’t speak but instead gestures for Justin to follow him into the kitchen. As they pass the couch, I move around to the front while keeping a close eye on both of them. They reach the next room, and Justin whistles.
“Well, all right!” Justin squats in front of Johnson’s body. “Who is he?”
“My handler. I’ve been trying to bring down Maxium Dembrinsky,” Liam starts.
Justin’s shoulders tense at the mention of Maxium’s name, but Liam doesn’t seem to notice. I stand closer to the door, my legs tightening in preparation to run if I need to.
“Somehow he made me and put a hit out on me. I got wind of it and took off.”
Justin stands and shoves his hands into his front pockets. I flinch and struggle to settle my breathing.
“That’s how you got that?” He points to Liam’s poorly bandaged shoulder.
“Yeah, they caught me a few miles out, but I got away. They followed me to Constance’s apartment. I took out two of his goons and came here.”