Was he hurt? Did he need her help?
“Pull your shit together, woman!” she told herself.
She stood on shaking legs and lurched toward the locker that held the snacks and weapons. She pulled a gun out and looked at it. She had no idea of it was loaded and didn’t know how to check. Having never shot a gun in her life, she was deeply uncomfortable holding it, but she had to have some protection if she was going to leave the closet.
“Point and shoot,” she muttered as she walked back to the panel next to the door.
She entered the digits Karl had shown her when he realized she didn’t know about the room. She held her breath, hoping that no one was on the other side. Pointing the gun, she pulled open the door and peeked into the closet.
It was as dark as the panic room had been when Jozef had shoved her inside. She shuffled toward the door, reaching for the knob. Holding the gun up to her chest and pointing it out, she cracked the closet door.
The bedroom was untouched except for what looked like dust in the air. She opened the closet and slid out, her pounding heart making it difficult to hear if anyone was in the apartment.
She desperately wanted to call out to Jozef but swallowed the urge. He couldn’t answer her anyway and she might draw unwanted attention. She took a deep breath and glanced around the corner of the bedroom door, sweeping the living area.
What she saw sent adrenaline surging through her. It wasn’t the destruction, nor was it Krystoff who was laying on the floor bleeding out, or Jozef sitting next to him, holding his hand. It was the man who stood in the doorway behind Jozef, his gun hand slowly extending.
Without a second thought, Shaun stepped around the corner, lifted her gun and shot at the man. She didn’t hit him, but she startled both him and herself. As the gun recoiled in her hand, she dropped it, leaving herself open as the man swung his gun toward her.
She didn’t have time to move, but she didn’t have to. Like watching a lightning bolt strike, Jozef scooped up a gun off the floor, rolled to his back and emptied his gun.
The man standing in the doorway was dead before he hit the ground.
“Jozef!” Shaun yelled as her knees buckled and she hit the floor.
She crawled toward him.
He climbed over Krystoff and reached for her, taking hold of her and sweeping her with a look.
“I’m okay. I’m not hurt,” she assured him, trying to see around him to his uncle. “I have to get to Krystoff.”
Jozef gripped her arm, not allowing her to continue toward his uncle.
He took her face in his hands.
She felt something wet smear across her cheeks and realized his hands were bloody.
He held her and stared at her, his eyes filled with every emotion he tried to hide behind his mafia mask but failed to keep from her.
She always knew how he felt.
Slowly he shook his head and she knew what he was saying. Krystoff was dead.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered brokenly.
He nodded and leaned forward pressing his head against hers. He stared into her eyes allowing her to see the anguish, the pain and the vulnerability. It was killing him that his uncle was dead and it’d happened at his hand.
She wrapped her hands around his shoulders and forced him against her body. She held him tight and gave him the comfort he needed while he cried. Tears pooled in her eyes and spilled over, mingling with his as they sat clinging to each other, while the world around them imploded.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Coming Soon…
Thank you so much for reading A Silent Reckoning. I’m working hard on the next book! Grab your preorder for the third and final book in Shaun’s and Jozef’s story, Goodnight, Sinners (Sinner’s Empire Book 3). Available May 18th, 2021.
CLICK HERE for Goodnight, Sinners!
Bonus: The Assassin’s Wife
Tasha dimmed all of the lights except for one, a spotlight. She smiled, pleased, and glided to the center of the floor. She crouched into a bow and held her hand out to an imaginary partner. Her eyes glowed in excitement and, in one lithe, graceful movement, she began to dance.
The world ceased to exist.
She was alone with her imaginary audience, captivating and seducing them with her flawless movements. She used the entire floor space, running and leaping into the air – stretching out her arms and landing gracefully. She twirled and spun, kicked and chased. She danced as though it were her last dance, enjoying every second of it. If she could bottle freedom, this is what it would feel like.
After an hour, the demands of her body began to make themselves known. She was beyond thirsty! She landed a perfect pirouette within the spotlight and swept into a low bow. Coming back to reality, she laughed out loud in sheer delight.
It was heaven to dance again!
Tasha turned to the wall of mirrors and studied herself critically, something all dancers did. She saw a small body, curved a little more than a ballet dancer should be, but she was no longer a professional. She didn’t have to starve herself for the perfect physique. Her back and shoulders were straight, breasts high and pointed, fuller than they used to be. Her legs were long, the calves and thighs strong.
Humming to herself she tip-toed over to her things, flinching. Now that she wasn’t dancing, her poor feet were feeling the punishment of ballet shoes. She picked up her water bottle and took a long drink of the cold, soothing water. In a graceful move, she sat in the shadowy corner next to her belongings by the mats and began some stretches to stop muscle fatigue. She wanted to dance for another hour or so, but her body needed a ten-minute break.
The darkened room in a gym, located in one
