Page 132 of Everything That Kills Me
“Arggh. Fuck. Six. Six. Don’t.”
The man didn’t look much older than Jack. The others had been in their thirties.
“Who sent you?”
“I don’t know. I’m not in charge. Tomaz was. You just fucking killed him.”
“Where do you come from?”
“London. Ex-army. You are too, right?”
“Who was your target?”
“Both of you. Kill him. Take you.”
Thomas came to Jack’s side. “How did you find me?”
Jack pressed the knife in again.
“No! Don’t. You’ll let me go, right, if I tell you everything I know? I won’t say a thing. I promise. I mean we’re in the same business. You know what it’s like. You’d do the same. It’s just money, right?”
“Okay,” Jack lied.
“We’ve been watching this house. I don’t know why but we were on a rota for months keeping an eye on the place. The job was for a foreign guy. Iranian. That’s all I know. I swear. I’ll disappear. I can do that. You know I can.”
“I know.” Jack slid his knife into the guy’s heart and pulled it out.
There was a moment of realisation on the man’s face before he died. He’d have done the same to Jack.
He stood and looked at Thomas.
“We clean everything up,” Thomas said. “Bodies bagged and in my car. I have one guy alive and secure in my room. We can question him but not until Zeph is out of here and the house is straight again. He leaves immediately. Once these guys don’t report in, their controller will know things have gone wrong. We need to be nowhere near here.”
Jack nodded.
Thirty
Zeph was only wearing his boxers. He’d wrapped himself around the dog. At least Django was keeping him partially warm. His heart had pounded fast from the moment Jack had issued his instructions, and it was still galloping. Jack had looked and sounded so serious, Zeph had known he needed to do as he was told without question. Of course, he had plenty of questions now.
He’d only ever heard gunshots on the TV and in films but he was pretty sure that’s what he’d heard in the house. Along with sounds of fighting. He was scared for Jack, scared for himself. And Thomas, even if the guy didn’t much like him. How long was he supposed to wait before he came out? What if Jack or Thomas needed help? Jack could be bleeding to death while he cowered in the attic.
Except…
What if the bad guys were still there? What if Zeph distracted Jack and made things worse?
What if…
Zeph wallowed in an agony of indecision. But Jack had told him to wait, so that’s what he did.
He didn’t believe in God. Well, not in some being who had the power to make things turn out the right way, because no amount of prayers had ever worked for him. Nor did he believe thatthings happen for a reason. That was a lame cop out when someone didn’t know what to say. Hedidbelieve in action rather than inaction, but he was too scared to move.Please let Jack be okay.
Django’s ears perked up and several seconds later, Zeph heard footsteps in the room. He stroked the dog. A bark would give them away but Django didn’t make a sound. Zeph hoped that meant he knew who was there. The door to the hiding placeopened and to Zeph’s huge relief, Jack stared down at him. Django went out first, Zeph crawled out after and Jack pulled him up into his arms. Zeph didn’t want to let him go. Jack’s hair was wet. Zeph inhaled, then tensed.
“You’ve showered?” He didn’t try to hide his incredulity.
“That’s what you ask me?”
“Why didn’t you come straight away when you knew it was safe? You took time for a shower?”While I was freaking out thinking you were dying?
