Bratva Beast: A Dark Romance

Juan was a decent guy. He was good with a gun and knew his way around a fight. But I couldn’t completely trust him.

Which was why Fiona had to go.

She had to make sure things went right. Juan needed to stay on course, or else everything would fall apart.

Still, I hated putting her out there. I hated sending her off into danger, even if the danger was minimal. She wasn’t a fighter, wasn’t a killer, wasn’t a trained assassin.

She was just a scared girl.

And the only person I’d ever loved in this world.

It ripped at me, gnawed at me. I wanted to scream and rage.

I held it all inside and prepared to channel it down at my enemies.

It was a long wait. I had a lot of time to think about my mistakes and to go over all the different ways this could go wrong. I spent plenty of time imagining all the ways that Fiona might get hurt, and how I’d rip Juan into tiny little pieces if he let me down.

I wasn’t cut out for love.

This was why Evgeni encouraged me to remain detached. A man without attachments could float through life like a balloon. I was adrift before Fiona and I could flit from one job to the next.

All the blood slid off me like paint down a canvas, leaving its marks but smearing away.

Fiona grounded me. Fiona, the only woman I’d ever love.

After this was over, I knew what I wanted. I’d give Juan his payment and disappear. I’d marry her, make her my wife, and make her the happiest woman in the world. Anything she wanted would be hers. Any whim, any desire.

I’d make it all happen.

I had the means. And the desire.

All I had to do was pull off one more job.

The day grew long and soon I heard another noise nearby. Just like I suspected, the Lionettis sent a sniper. The person set up on the far side of the building where I could hear him screwing together a tripod and talking softly into a microphone likely connected with whoever was running their operation.

I checked my watch: twenty minutes until shit went down.

I left the sniper alone. All was quiet again once the gun was put together. The Doyles were probably down there setting up a perimeter. I doubted they’d send someone up here, and if they did, the Lionettis would probably take care of them.

I had to focus on the task ahead. I couldn’t let possibilities distract me.

Fiona, goddamn Fiona. I wished I could send anyone else, but there was nobody in the world that could do this.

She could handle herself. I had to believe.

Five minutes slipped past, ten minutes. I heard more chatter from the sniper.

Time for me to get moving.

I crawled out of my hiding spot, a knife clutched between my teeth. I stood, gripped the knife in my right hand with the blade down, and crept across the roof.

The sniper was a man, dark hair covered with a black cap, wearing camo pants and a camo shirt though there wasn’t much foliage to blend in with on the top of a middle school roof. He sighted down his rifle, a decent-looking weapon. His gun case was open next to him, and a wire to an earpiece led down to a radio at his hip.

“Sniper in position,” he said, voice gravelly. “All quiet up here.”

If he got an answer, I didn’t hear.

I moved one small step at a time, crouching down low. I didn’t want anyone to spot what was about to happen.

Time stilled. I calmed my nerves, forced my heart to beat steadily. I tried to banish Fiona from my mind but couldn’t quite make it happen.

I’d never have that same emptiness again, and I wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing.

I reached the sniper and dropped on him. I jammed my right knee into the small of his back, pinning him into position, then grabbed him by the hair and ripped his head back. He gagged in shock, tried to scream, but I ripped the knife along his throat, cutting deep into his exposed arteries, his windpipe, and his voice box. That silenced him as the blood gushed out and he coughed, choking blood.

I pulled his ankles, dragged him from the edge, and grabbed his hat, shoving it down over my head. His eyes went glassy, then blank.

I stole the earpiece from his ear. It was bloody, but not much I could do about it. I put it in my own ear then took up his position.

The chatter started immediately.

“Team One in position, locked and loaded. Doyles brought heat.”

“Well armed. Six long rifles, more handguns.”

“Numbers down there, Sniper?”

I did a quick count. “Twelve,” I rasped into the walkie.

“Roger.” If anyone noticed the voice change, they didn’t comment. “Team Three, take flanking. Team One, prepare to push. Wait for the shipment and my command.”