Page 42 of Kingpin's Secret Baby

An hour of quiet passes since we watched Harold and the red-haired man shake hands, then another. I make quiet laps of the house, checking that all windows and doors are locked, but it’s little comfort. We’re hopelessly outnumbered, so why don’t they just start busting windows and coming in? Could it have something to do with whatever deal was made this morning?

The other thing I keep obsessively checking is my phone. The service out here was always spotty, but now it seems to be gone for good. Probably thanks to the men camped outside.

After all the calls I ignored from Achilles, I really wish I could talk to him right now. Not like it would do much good now, with him on the other side of the Atlantic, and the wolves at our doorstep. Still. It’s possible that he was trying to call me not just to bust my balls again, but to give me a warning that his cousin was on the loose. And if my stubborn fucking pride is what put us in this position, I’ll never forgive myself.

Fantasia and I don’t speak at all, or eat, or move around much aside from my patrol of the windows and doors. It’s as if we’re living underwater. We’re unable to drown, but desperately waiting for the moment we’re allowed to come up for air. Despite this, Fantasia seems unafraid of the situation we’re in. In fact, she’s so unphased that I reorganize my path through the house so I’m not leaving her alone in the den- the only room in the house without windows- for any great length of time.

There’s a nagging feeling at the back of my brain that if I take my eyes off her for too long, she’ll fling herself out the door and into the waiting arms of her enemies.

The third hour is passing when footsteps come up the stairs to the front porch. They sound like they belong to someone with a heavier build than Harold’s willowy body, maybe some muscle finally ready to dispense a threat or ultimatum. My gun is in my hand, for all the good it’ll do us with a dozen men waiting outside, but I refuse to go down without a fight.

The knock on the door is slow. Deliberate.

Three raps, followed by a pause. Then three more.

I don’t answer. Neither does Fantasia. We stay frozen, my hand tight around the grip of my gun, her breath coming shallow beside me.

The man on the other side isn’t in any rush. He exhales, a long, exaggerated sigh, then speaks in a voice thick with an Irish accent.

“Come on, lad. Open up.”

I stay silent.

“I know you’re in there,” he continues, the amusement in his voice making my blood simmer. “No sense in pretendin’ otherwise. I just wanna talk.”

Still, I say nothing.

Another sigh. “Alright, let’s cut through the shite, then. You come out alone, we let you walk away. No harm, no fuss.” A beat of silence, then, like he’s throwing in a casual afterthought, “The girl stays, of course.”

Fantasia goes rigid.

My grip tightens.

“You’ve got no stake in this,” he continues, his voice dropping to something almost persuasive, “No reason to die for her. Not when you’ve got other places to be. People waiting on you.”

I feel a cold chill run down my spine. There’s something about his tone, something almost familiar. But that’s impossible. Just a mind game. A trick. I’ve played them myself. He’s trying to get in my head, trying to shake me. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

“You’re a reasonable man, aren’t ya?” He says it like he knows me, like he knows exactly what I’ll do next. “You know how this ends. You walk out that door alone, and this all goes away.”

I let out a slow breath through my nose, raising my gun a little higher.

“Walk out of here. Alone. No one’s waiting to gun you down. No one’s got a target on your back. Just step outside, and we’re done.”

“You have three seconds,” I say, keeping my voice calm, measured, “to get off my porch before I start shooting through the door.”

The man laughs- an easy, genuine chuckle, like this is the most fun he’s had all day.

“Oh, you’re a good one,” he says, still chuckling. “Alright then, suit yourself.”

His footsteps retreat down the steps, slow and deliberate, like he has all the time in the world. But then he pauses.

“You’ve got until dawn to give her up,” he calls back, his voice turning cold. “After that, we’re coming in. We’ll fill the place with smoke bombs first- choke you out nice and easy. Or, if you’re feeling stubborn, we’ll break down the door and drag you both out by your hair. Your choice.”

Fantasia’s on her feet, eyes blazing. “You’re being a dumb ass.”

“Excuse me?”

“You should’ve taken his offer. You could’ve walked away. Now we’re both going to die in this cabin.”

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