The Brit

His teeth grind, his brown eyes taking on an edge of psycho. “You’re walking into an ambush. Alone. Who’s going to cover you?”

“I won’t need cover.” I reach for his arm and manhandle him from the car, taking his place once he’s out. “Besides, it was you who told me the Romanians were amateurs. Couldn’t organize an orgy, remember?”

Brad grimaces. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you’re going alone when you detailed this plan of yours?”

“I was trying to minimize the fucking earache I knew I’d get.” I slam the door and roar off down the driveway, looking to my rearview mirror. Brad looks like he’s breakdancing on the gravel, arms and legs everywhere. It’s an amusing sight, though I can appreciate his frustration and worry. I’m walking on dangerous ground, and I’m walking on it alone. I never walk alone. But to get what I want, I’ve got to do this my way.

I flick the radio on and rest back, working myself down, trying to relax. I need to relax. Be levelheaded. I can’t let anything ruin my only opportunity to get out of this world in one piece and without the worry of my past catching up with me. This is the only way. Brad didn’t like it, even before I told him I’d be going alone.

I watch the freeway disappear into the distance before me, the roads surprisingly clear for eight o’clock. The sun is dropping from the sky in the distance, casting an amber glow across the horizon. It’s Miami at its finest. I think of Rose. I think about my prize. I’m pretty sure she would have tied me up had I told her my intentions. She would have done anything to stop me.

As I pull off the main road and hit the dirt track to the boatyard, I’m watchful. I spy at least a dozen groups of men lingering in the overgrowth as I rumble down the divot-infested road. They’re all armed. They’re all monitoring me. They’re all reporting back to Nox, telling him I’m alone.

When I roll to a stop, my car door is pulled open before I turn off the engine, and I’m hauled from the seat by a tall skinhead. One man checks the boot of the Merc, another pats me down. It takes everything in me not to head-butt the fucker manhandling me. It takes everything not to remove that machine gun from his hold and sink the bullets into him.

“Neînarmat,” he calls over his shoulder. “Ma?ina?”

“Curat,” another man replies as I’m shoved against the side of the Merc. My lip starts to curl, my fists twitching.

“The Angel-faced Assassin.” Nox emerges from the shadows by the container, suited and booted, his head freshly shaved. His leer fills me with hatred, images of his bony fists getting friendly with Rose invading my head. So this is the fucker who’s sent my world into fucking chaos.

“Tell your men to be more hospitable,” I spit, pulling my jumper back into place. “Or don’t, because I can’t tell you how desperate I am to butcher each and every one of you bastards. Just like we did your father and brother.”

Nox shows the sky his palms, smiling mildly. His move tells me something important. This is less about revenge and more about him finding his place in this fucked-up world. He couldn’t give two shits about his dead family. “I would be a fool not to check you’re meeting your end of the deal.” His accent is thick, but his English perfect.

“I noticed.” I point up the track, where his men probably still remain, poorly concealed. “If you’re gonna have your men stake out, tell them to move farther into the bushes. I counted thirteen watch posts. Three men at each. You’ve certainly got me covered.”

“You’ve always been ahead of the game, Black.”

“Shall we get on with this?” My skin is starting to crawl in the presence of so much scum.

“You seem in a rush.”

“I have a life to start,” I reply coldly, heading toward one of the containers that’s ram-packed with weapons that’ll likely see Nox all right for some years, as well as shoot him up the ladder of power and wealth. I pull the keys from my pocket but pause from inserting it into the lock when I hear Nox call me. “What?” I ask.

“You’re really giving up your empire for a woman?” I look at the metal doors of the container, nodding as he goes on. “I mean, Rose is out of this world, I admit. No one knows that more than me.” I can’t see him, but the satisfaction in his words must be all over his face. Which is why I won’t look. I won’t be able to hold myself back from murdering the sadistic prick. “I taught her everything she knows. I hope you’re reaping the benefits of my lessons.”