Page 22 of Betting Blind

“What do you think, man? These people…” I stop short and close my eyes, trying to fight back the images of Hayden’s face when the call came through. “These people killed his family,” I say slowly. “And in turn, they killed a part of him too.”

Silas nods and folds the blueprints up. “I know he’ll never be the same but promise me you’ll keep him safe.”

“I’ll do my best. I just don’t think I’ll be able to keep him safe from himself,” I whisper to myself. I follow the boys down the stairs and out into the busy streets of South Korea.

*****

The three of us stand dripping in the courtyard outside the warehouse. “That,” I say while breathing out of my mouth. “We’re never doing that again.”

Silas looks completely traumatized, and Hayden looks even angrier than before we crawled through the drainage pipe. “I smell like three-week-old rotten flesh,” Hayden mutters and pulls a clump of something off his shoulder. Silas turns his head and gags violently.

Shouts erupt from within, and we dive for cover. Hayden pulls out two guns and I follow with one of my own. Silas shrugs out of his jacket and swaps his shirt for a bulletproof vest. “Get me inside that left room,” he orders.

Hayden takes a deep breath, and I watch the change wash over his features. Then he rolls to the right and fires off shot after shot. The sound of bullets pinging against metal and concrete fills the air. “Go,” he shouts as he pulls out two more magazines and reloads.

Silas doesn’t hesitate and takes off, sprinting through the flying debris and sliding through the open door. He waves a hand out the doorway to signal his safety and then disappears to work. I straighten and fire off shots to cover Hayden’s reload.

We work that rhythm for what seems like an eternity until a loud hiss of air followed by several alarms cuts through the gunfire. Silas holds up three fingers from his hiding spot and I watch with anticipation as he slowly ticks his fingers down. When he pulls his hand down, the doors to the warehouse slide open with a loud, metallic shriek. “We’re in!” I call over to Hayden as he finishes his reload.

He nods twice and twists his head, cracking his neck. “I’ll cover.” Without another word, he stands to his full height, gun in each hand, and starts walking and firing. Bullets fly through the air. Icrouch and sprint into the warehouse without a backward glance and pull out my other gun so that I, too, am double-fisting.

I turn in time to see Hayden walking backward towards me, swapping magazines and then continuing to rain bullets down. My eyes dart to Silas as he kicks open the door to the office he is hiding in and then back to where Hayden is aiming. “Oh fuck! Get down!” I shout and nearly tackle Silas to the ground.

The explosion shakes the ground, glass shards rain down on our heads. Smoke and flames erupt through the courtyard, engulfing everything. Hayden manages to dive to the side, his body hitting the concrete behind a steel wall as the fire roars to life.

Silas rolls out from under me and coughs. “What the fuck was that?” he practically shouts as he pulls me to my feet. My ears are ringing, and I see two of my brother, making him twice as annoying.

Hayden pulls himself to his feet with a wheezing cough. “Rogue bullet,” he mutters and reloads. I want to ask him where he is keeping all those clips, but I am interrupted by more shouting and the sound of footsteps echoing through the warehouse. “It’s about to get real hot in here, boys!” he calls and shrugs out of his jacket.

I pull my jacket off, toss it to the side, and slide the mask onto my face. I watch as they do the same. Silas in a black spade mask and Hayden in a red heart mask. “Let’s finish this.”

We manage to make it through two storage rooms before we are surrounded by Russians. Silas jerks his head back and forth, looking for an exit. I can feel his panic rising. Hayden squares his shoulders and stares straight ahead. “Get him out of here, Kennedy,” he whispers to me. “Now.”

“We’re not leaving you,” Silas insists and grabs his wrist, pulling hard. Hayden doesn’t move. He’s a stone statue, unmoving, unyielding.

I know this is his battle to fight. This is the way his soul gets to be at peace. It fucking sucks dick, but I know he won’t back down. I nod once, my chest tight and eyes stinging. “I’m so fucking sorry, Hayden,” I whisper and squeeze his shoulder.

Silas sucks in a sharp breath and fights against me as I pull him back the way we came from. “No!” he shouts and beats his fist against my back, fighting my every step. “No!”

“He has to,” I say in a low, steady voice. “It’s his closure. His monster is too far gone. There’s no changing him now. That’s not the same Hayden.”

“I don’t care which Hayden it is,” Silas hisses through clenched teeth and struggles against my hold. He flinches as the sound of bullets flying echoes through the warehouse. Gunfire continues until we make it through the front entrance. Silas pulls his mask off and collapses to his knees. He stares at the burning warehouse, silent tears leaving streaks through the dirt and debris on his face.

We stare at the warehouse in somber silence, watching the flames engulf the walls. More glass shatters. The metal beams groan and protest under the immense heat and pressure. The gunfire ceases and Silas looks up at me with heartbreak.

I press my lips into a hard line and inhale sharply, trying to keep my expression from mirroring his. In the silence we continue to stare at the flames lapping along the concrete, not wanting to breathe or exist in a world without Hayden. I close my eyes and feel tears drip down my cheeks. “Fuck,” I breathe out.

“Declan,” Silas says in awe. If the little prick decides now is the time to make fun of me for showing emotion, I very well might lose my actual brother today too. I open my eyes to glare at him but he’s not looking at me. I follow his stare and see a figure emerging through the flames. Despite all odds, Hayden limps out of the fire with a knife in one hand and the other clutching his side tightly.

He’s dripping with blood. His white mask is flecked with crimson. He straightens when he sees us standing in front of him, and I know that if he wasn’t wearing that mask, I’d be able to see him grinning from ear to ear. He picks up his pace, stalking forward with purpose now.

I watch as he draws closer, taking in the inferno blazing to life behind him and the blood trickling from the blade in his hand and covering his body, and I can’t help but think that he looks slightly ethereal. Almost demonic. Like death personified.

Like the god of death himself.

Hades.

Chapter 14

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