Endless Love Page 3

  “Going through the Boss’ shit,” she says, head bobbing at the book in her hand. “Check this out.” She clears her throat. “I’m a mommy again!” she reads. “M and I were passing through Hyde Park when we saw a little girl standing on the corner. She couldn’t have been older than M with fierce, black hair and perfect, pink lips. As I beckoned her closer, I saw them. I saw them clear as daylight.

  “She had his eyes! I gazed at her and V gazed back at me. I think I’ll call her Myra.”

  Lilah looks up at me, her lips twitching. “She literally kidnapped a child off the street because she liked her eyes! How fucked up is that?”

  “Who’s V?” I ask.

  She shrugs at the stacks. “Dunno. Haven’t found any diaries that go back that far yet.” She takes another swig from her mug. “Makes you wonder about Myra, though, right? Who is she really? Where did she come from? Who are her real parents? Was she born evil? Or did she learn it? Gives those nature versus nurture people a thing to talk about, am I right?”

  I squint. “How many cups of coffee have you had?”

  “That’s irrelevant and I choose not to discuss it,” she says, turning back to her book.

  I rub the sleep from my eyes. I’m not awake enough to bicker just yet. “Where’s Boxcar?”

  “Downstairs, I guess? Heard him moving around a bit ago.”

  I nod and walk backward out of the library. Well, at least she hasn’t killed anybody today yet. If those diaries can keep her occupied until Dante can get here and tag in, I’m all for it.

  I walk down the stairs to the ground floor, listening for the rhythmic tapping of Boxcar’s keyboard but I don’t hear it. It’s once again a little too quiet for my liking but perhaps he went back to sleep.

  “Hey, Sparky, you up?”

  I stick my head into the living room where I left him last night. His open laptop sits out on the table, but he’s not hunched over it like he usually is. The couch looks slept-in with a ruffled blanket and pillow tossed on it, so at least he wasn’t up all night.

  Movement draws my eyes to the laptop screen. I lean over to take a closer look. A few security feeds from around the house shift back and forth in a continuous loop. I spot Lilah on the floor of the library, her nose stuck in one of those diaries. Sloppy bangs dangle down her forehead as she raises her mug.

  I smile. Bookworm looks good on her.

  The camera flips to another room and my chest lurches.

  It’s that damned basement room. Myra with her hands around Boxcar’s neck...

  “Fuck.”

  I bolt into the kitchen toward the basement door.

  “Lilah, little help down here!” I shout as I throw it open.

  I race down the stairs with no plan at all. No weapon or back-up. But I’ve seen how quickly Myra can kill and I’m not about to let that happen to my friend.

  I reach the unfinished room, my guts churning at the sight of Boxcar sprawled out on the floor next to the table where Myra should be.

  Before I can step inside, a shadow rushes past my eye and I jerk out of the way to avoid the sharp pen stabbing at my face. She misses me and her hand crashes into the wall by my head. I grab her wrist, yanking her forward and twisting it in the wrong direction.

  Myra shrieks in pain and drops the pen to the floor while I snatch her throat with my other hand. I muster all of my strength to slam her whole body against the wall.

  Myra laughs, pinned like a rag doll. “Good morning to you, too, honey.”

  I hold her there, hoping to hear Lilah coming this way but it’s silence upstairs. “Please tell me you didn’t kill him,” I say.

  “Why? Would that be bad?”

  She rolls her loose fist and jabs it at my face. I tighten to take the hit, cringing as it collides with my upper lip, but I don’t let her go. I can’t. If I give her even an inch...

  Crimson blood drips from her pinned hand, rolling down my fingers to my wrist. I turn my hand to look at hers, finding deep scrapes covering nearly every inch of skin where the cuffs were. She must have spent all night digging to the bone until she could slide herself out...

  “You crazy bitch,” I say, shaking my head.

  “I have a job to do.” She rolls her other blood-soaked fist. “And you’re in my way.”

  She punches me again, this time striking just above my eye. I grit my teeth through the pain, determined to hold on just a little bit longer but as Myra pulls back to hit me once more, I feel my grip on her loosen.

  Her fist comes toward me again and I close my eyes to shield myself from the blow. Her fist doesn’t connect. I realize my mistake a split-second before her knee collides with my gut.

  It knocks the wind out of me. I struggle to keep my muscles locked. Myra takes the opportunity to jolt forward and slams her forehead against my nose. Another quick jab to my face and I recoil backward, just as she wanted.

  I curse myself as she slips free and performs a roundhouse kick to my head. Bloody hell, not again. At least when Lilah did it, she intended to knock me out instantly — and succeeded. I feel everything now, still completely conscious as my head collides with the concrete floor.

  Myra shifts backward, catching her breath. “You should have listened to me, Archer,” she says. “This won’t end well for you. For any of you. She always gets what she wants.”

  I roll onto my back as my head throbs, the pain as blinding as the spots on my vision. “Seems like a whole lot of fuss just to take down Fox Fitzpatrick,” I say, breathing hard.

  “This isn’t about Fox, Archer. This was never about Fox...” She towers above me, blood still dripping to the floor from her hands. “I’d hoped you’d realize that earlier, but... you chose her instead.”

  “What can I say?” I ask. “Lilah’s prettier.”

  Myra pulls back her leg to kick me, but I grab her ankle with both hands. I quickly sweep her other leg out from under her and she plummets to the floor beside me.

  She instantly lashes out, kicking and punching to try and roll away and grab the pen she dropped. I try to pull her away from it but her heel connects with my jaw, knocking me back.

  She grabs the pen, spins around, and lunges at me, shrieking like a banshee intent to maim me.

  I raise my hands to block the blow, bracing for whatever pain will surely come of this.

  “Ow—!”

  Myra jolts backward mid-air, lassoed by a painful tug of her long, black hair.

  Lilah drags her away from me. “Drop the fucking pen!”

  Myra cringes with tears in her eyes but she doesn’t obey. She stabs upward, narrowly missing Lilah’s face by an inch. I recoil, fearing the worst, but Lilah keeps calm. She grabs Myra’s wrist and expertly snatches the pen from her bloody fingers.

  “I said, drop it.”

  Lilah raises the pen and stabs Myra in the back with it.

  Myra lets out a fierce howl as falls to the floor face down, the pen sticking out from her left shoulder blade. “You... fucking...”

  Lilah kicks Myra in ribs, keeping her flat on the floor. Then, she looks over at me, her face twisted with concern.

  “You okay?” she asks.

  I nod, feeling nauseous — from both that kick in the head and that ghastly stab. “Just need a minute, love,” I say.

  Lilah moves past me to kneel by Boxcar. She presses her fingers along the side of his neck. I brace myself for bad news.

  “He’s got a pulse,” she says. She slaps his cheek. “Wake up, nerd.”

  I sigh with relief as I sit up, eyes still locked on Myra as she heaves against the floor. She reaches behind her back, desperately trying to get a hold of that pen but she can’t quite reach it.

  Lilah stands and walks over to Myra. She places the heel of her boot against Myra’s spine. “Now, now...” she says, putting her weight into it to keep Myra down. “Let’s not—”

  An alarm sounds from Boxcar’s pocket. His phone. He said it would light up if—

  “Perimeter breach,” I say th
e thought aloud. “Someone’s here.”

  Myra starts laughing.

  “Shut up,” Lilah spits at her.

  Myra twists around and jabs Lilah in the back of the knee, knocking her off-balance. With a quick shove, she forces Lilah to fall on top of me and she leaps to her feet with sudden adrenaline. She reaches back and pulls the pen out, obviously not too bothered by it as she pretended to be earlier.

  “That’d be my ride,” she says before bolting out the door.

  Lilah jumps up and chases her out. I pull my weight off the floor, forcing myself to move through the pain still throbbing between my ears but if I don’t get up there in time...

  Christ, I’m not even sure what the worst-case scenario would be here. If that really is her people out there, then we can’t possibly survive this. We barely made it out of here yesterday — and we had the upper hand then.

  I enter the hall in time to see Lilah’s feet disappear up the stairs. I run toward her, taking the stairs two at a time to try and catch up. I round the corner, racing for the front door a few paces behind Lilah.

  Myra throws open the door and takes one final, smug look back at us. “See you around,” she says.

  She steps one foot outside and runs smack into Dante’s thick chest.

  “Oh, shi—”

  Dante grabs her, spins her around, and wraps his arm around her throat. “What the hell are you guys doing?” he asks, gawking over at us.

  Lilah exhales hard. “She escaped.”

  He furrows his brow in annoyance and squeezes tighter as Myra scratches at him, but he doesn’t let up.

  Finally, Myra’s eyes flutter closed as she loses consciousness. Her damaged hands slide down to the floor as Fox trails in behind him, a pistol clenched tightly in one hand.

  “It’s all right,” he says, looking back over his shoulder. “Come on in.”

  A tall man in a black suit eases in behind him, his hand holding on to a brunette woman’s arm.

  “Where’s Lucy?” Lilah asks.

  Dante rises slowly, his eyes locked on Myra. “Let’s get her secured first.”

  “First?” she repeats. “What the hell does that mean?”

  I reach for her shoulder. “Myra won’t stay down long, love. We should do as he says.”

  She looks at me, her eyes sensing betrayal. “What happened?”

  “Fox...”

  We turn around, following Boxcar’s voice down the hall. He props himself against the wall and holds up his phone.

  “Call Dani. Now,” he says. “I can’t reach Caleb.”

  Fox steps forward, his hand deep in his back pocket. “What’s going on?” he asks.

  Boxcar looks down at Myra. “She knew about the baby. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

  Fox dials a number and holds the phone against his ear. The rest of us wait in silence, eager to find out what the hell went wrong here.

  “Dani,” he says. “Are you—”

  He goes silent and his eyes rise to Boxcar’s. With a quick flick of his thumb, he taps the speakerphone button and holds the phone up between them.

  “Who is this?” he asks.

  “Oh, Fox,” a woman says, laughing coldly. “Do you really have to ask?”

  Boxcar deflates and nods his head, broken and defeated.

  Fox clenches his jaw. “Hello, Marilyn,” he says.

  Chapter 6

  Fox

  My heart aches. I try not to think about what this means but it could only mean one thing.

  “Where are they?” I ask.

  “Who?” Marilyn asks, amused. “Oh, you mean Ms. Roberts and Ms. Fawn?”

  “Yes.”

  “That... is an excellent question.”

  “Answer it,” I say.

  The others ease a little closer to me, their eyes wide-open on the phone, while Dante stays close to Myra. The agents among us have never heard this voice but we’ve felt the power behind it before. Even I’m a bit struck by it. The woman behind the curtain.

  “I’ll be happy to, Fox,” Marilyn says, “but I have a question of my own first.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “Where is my son?”

  “He’s dead.”

  Boxcar frowns at me. With Caleb’s fate up in the air, I don’t blame him.

  “Yes, I know that,” she says with a sigh. “Ms. Roberts was... honest, to say the least. I mean his remains. Where are they?”

  I bite down, unwilling to answer. I don’t want her finding her way to Mrs. Clark’s farm. “He’s gone,” I answer instead.

  Marilyn sighs. “Well, that’s unfortunate,” she says.

  “Where are Dani and Caleb?” I ask her again.

  “They’re gone,” she says with amusement.

  “Leave them alone. This isn’t their fight.”

  “Now, why would I do that? Why would I trade this experience for anything?” she asks. “You took my legacy, Fox. My family’s future. Is it not fair that I do the same to you?”

  I turn my back on the others. “What do you want from me?” I ask through my teeth. “I gave you years off my life. I did everything you told me to do, no matter how revolting it was. You destroyed me. I have nothing left to give you.”

  “Oh, Fox. My dear boy,” she whispers. “But you have so much left to lose.”

  I bow my head. “Take me instead,” I beg. “Just... leave them alone.”

  “It’s such a shame, too. The two of you would have made such beautiful children.”

  I glance over my shoulder toward Myra on the floor. Her eyes are open now, but she hasn’t moved. Not with Dante’s pistol pointed at her head.

  “If you lay a hand on them, I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” Marilyn snaps. “Was my son right about you all along, Fox? Are you really nothing but a killer?”

  “You’re about to find out,” I growl.

  She chuckles calmly. “Won’t that be lovely?”

  “Myra,” I say, silencing her. Myra looks up and fires a hard, defiant glare at me. “If you touch them, I’ll kill her.”

  Lilah shifts on her feet. She’s obviously not going to let anyone else pull that trigger, but this is the only card I have to play right now.

  “Go ahead,” Marilyn says.

  She hangs up. My guts churn at the sudden silence. Even Myra’s face falls.

  My god, what have I done?

  Dani, I’m so sorry.

  I promised you no one would ever hurt you again. I promised Caleb she’d be safer there with you. I can’t even bring myself to look at Boxcar. We’re on the other side of the world. I can’t save them and that’s my fault.

  I slowly lower my hand to my side as rage heats my skin.

  The Boss won.

  But I’m not dead yet.

  “Myra...” I say. “Where are they?”

  She doesn’t answer.

  I step forward, rolling my fists. “I know you know,” I say. “Where is she taking them?”

  Again, she stays quiet.

  I rush across the room, following tunnel vision right to her.

  Dante shifts out of the way, letting me pass. I grab Myra by the collar to hoist her off the floor. She screams in pain as I wrap my hand around her hair and drag her into the dining room just off the foyer.

  Voices rise behind me, a mix of mercy pleas and apathy cries, but I can’t tell who says what. I don’t care, either.

  I force Myra to bend over the table. I grab the knife strapped to my ankle.

  “Fox, stop—!”

  I stab through Myra’s right hand, going deep enough to splinter the table beneath her. She cries out with wide, dead eyes and tries to resist as I hold her down.

  “Anyone with a weak stomach should leave the room,” I say, flexing my hand along the back of Myra’s neck.

  “Boxcar, come on...”

  I glance over my shoulder as Archer leads him out. Boxcar turns away from me, a look of shock and disgust on his face. Good. I’ve never wanted him to see this
side of me.

  The side I’ve lived with since the day I died.

  Dante stands beside me and lays his hands along Myra’s left arm while Lilah hovers in front to watch. Luka towers in the doorway with his arms crossed. And Sofia... part of me wishes she’d leave, too, but she stays by Luka’s side. Her choice.

  Myra struggles beneath us, whimpers of agony trembling her mouth.

  “Where are they going?” I ask her again.

  I see the training in her eyes. Snake Eyes agents are put through a lot of it. How to withstand torture. How to keep your mouth shut. We all know the tips and tricks of retreating into the dark depths of oneself to get through it, but I don’t have time for that shit.

  I twist the knife and tears spill out of her eyes. “Where?!”

  “It’s...” She stutters through her teeth. “It’s too late, Fox...”

  “Try again.”

  I yank the knife out and stab her hand again before she can move it. She lurches upward but Dante and I push her right back down to the table.

  “Myra.” I tilt her head back, forcing her to look at me. “If you don’t start talking, I’m going to peel off every inch of your skin, starting with your fucking eyelids. Where is she taking them?!”

  She closes her eyes, trying to hold back again.

  Dante reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws his garrote. He quickly wraps it around her left pinkie finger and pulls it tight enough to draw blood. Myra tenses, trying to ignore what’s coming but she can’t hide the fear on her face.

  “Last chance, Myra,” I say.

  “Go to hell,” she whimpers.

  Dante pulls the line. It digs in deep, dripping flesh blood onto the table as he hastily wraps her ring finger, too. I give him a nod and he pulls tighter, filling the air with the crack of breaking bones.

  “Gio!” Myra cries out, her body shaking from shock. “She’s...”

  Dante backs off a bit. I loosen my grip on her head, but I don’t move the knife still plunged through her right hand.

  “She’s what?” I ask.

  Myra breathes hard. “Gio,” she says again. “She’s taking Dani to Gio.”

  Luka steps closer to the table.

  “Why?” I ask, tilting the knife.