Retribution (27 page)

I nodded as I waited for the pain to pass. “Yeah, just another contraction.”

I lovingly rubbed my swollen tummy as the pain finally stopped. Cooper reached around and covered my hand with his. I looked up to see him smiling at me. The love in his expression was all I could focus on for a moment.

“I think he’s telling us to hurry up,” Cooper said after a moment of silence.

“Then, let’s not keep him waiting.” I laughed.

Shelly opened the front door, and we stepped out into the sunlight. It was the last time we would be only three. Soon, our son would join us.

I hung back to watch Shelly and Cooper walk to the car together. My lips tilted up into a smile. Never in my life had I ever expected to find the happiness I felt in this moment. I’d been to hell and faced the devil, but I had survived. I had thrived. Cooper had as well. Our past had made us so much stronger. It’d made us appreciate every moment that much more.

Time passed by so strangely. Some days, it seemed to move by at a snail’s pace while other days would last only a moment. An old saying said that time would heal all wounds. Whoever had said that was brilliant.

Healing was never easy. It took courage to find the will to go on when your world had been shattered. You had to fight your own demons on a daily basis and pray that you’d make it out alive.

Cooper and I had made it out alive—together.

Always together.

When I started writing this series, I had no idea where it might go. There were several possibilities, but I just couldn’t decide which one I wanted. As I immersed myself deeper and deeper into the world of Claire, Robert, and Cooper, I realized that their story was something much more complicated than I had ever expected.

Claire started out as a very weak character, one who drove me mad at times. No matter how I wrote her story, she would continue to show me the weakest side of herself. So, I let her.

Sometimes, characters are what they are. No amount of rewriting can change them.

By the time I finished writing
Retribution
, I found myself smiling because of Claire. Slowly, ever so slowly, she evolved into a strong young woman. She still had weak moments, but overall, she grew into a character I felt proud of.

I hope you enjoyed her story. I know I enjoyed writing it.

Much love,

K.A.

I hated the night. It was so full of darkness and secrets. When the sun disappeared, the world was cast in shadows, hiding the evil that lay in wait. When it was dark, I hunted. There was no sunlight to keep me at bay. The shadows caressed my body as I did things I could never do in the light of day.

“You ready?” Wesley asked me.

Wesley, aka Wes, was my best friend and partner. We’d grown up together in London, spending almost every day side by side, training for what we would become.

Wesley looked like an angel—his pale blue eyes and blond hair made him seem innocent. Over the years, I’d watched him grow from a round-faced boy to the chiseled man he was today. His strong jaw, full lips, and straight nose made him almost model-worthy. If it weren’t for the scar running straight from his ear to his neck, he could’ve been a model. He’d managed to land that trophy on a mission when we were only sixteen. I hated it, but he didn’t seem to mind it at all, often joking that it made him look dangerous. It did, but that was beside the point. To me, it made him look like an imperfect angel, if such a thing existed.

“Let’s do this,” I said as I threw my car door open.

Wesley did the same. We met on my side of the car and melted into the shadows surrounding us. At almost three in the morning, the normally busy London streets were deserted in this part of town.

We stayed silent, not even the soles of our heavy black boots making a sound. We’d been trained years ago on how to stay completely silent. We stayed in alleyways and shadows as we walked the two blocks to where our target was located.

When we reached the apartment building, I watched the front of the building for movement of any kind. After a few minutes, I turned to Wesley and raised an eyebrow. He shook his head before pointing up. I rolled my eyes. Of course he was going to make this difficult for us.

We made our way to the back alley. I nodded to where two dumpsters sat side by side. Wesley moved in front of me and climbed silently onto one of them. He grabbed my hand and hauled me up. The dumpsters were nothing for him since he was six foot three, but I had trouble since I barely reached five foot two.

“Fire escape,” Wesley whispered into my ear.

I looked up and saw one that was only eleven or twelve feet above our heads. Silently, Wesley grabbed me and lifted me onto his shoulders. Careful not to hurt him, I rose until I was standing on his shoulders. I sprung up and managed to grab the bottom rung of the ladder. My arms strained as I fought to pull myself up. Once I was far enough up that my feet were on the rungs, I made quick work of the ladder. I reached the top and lowered the ladder, so Wesley could climb up behind me.

He grinned when he made it to the top. I rolled my eyes before moving on to the next ladder. It only took us a few minutes to reach the last fire escape, ten stories off the ground. Our target was located on the top floor.

Wesley moved ahead of me and carefully tried to raise the window. I almost laughed when I realized it wasn’t locked. People were such fools. Wesley shook his head in disgust before pushing the window up further.

We climbed through and dropped into a living room. I looked around, impressed. Our target obviously had money and had no problem showing it off. Even in the darkness, I could see the elegance of the room.

I pulled my gun from the small of my back and clicked the safety off. Wesley followed suit before carefully making his way down a hallway off to the right. We knew the layout of the apartment, including where the target’s bedroom was. We passed three doors before finally arriving at the correct one. I held my breath as Wesley slowly opened the door. The creak it made froze both of us in place.

We held our breaths and waited for movement inside the room. After a few moments of silence, we slipped inside. I swallowed roughly when I saw the two forms in the bed. We were here for the target only, but it was obvious he had company tonight. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, preparing myself for what I was about to do.

I walked to the target’s side of the bed and aimed my gun at him. Wesley moved to the other side of the bed and raised his gun. He stared over the bed at me, sorrow in his eyes. I knew mine mirrored his. Neither of us wanted this life, but we never got the chance to choose. We had been born into this world, and we would die in this world.

We were Mafia children—too young to be in control, but old enough to be the foot soldiers, the assassins.

I sent a quick prayer up to God, hoping that he’d forgive me for this sin along with every other I’d ever committed, but I had no doubt that he’d turned his back on me long ago. I didn’t blame him. As soon as my prayer was finished, I pulled the trigger, and another piece of my soul died.

We pulled up to the gates of the mansion Wesley and I called home.

“I can’t keep doing this,” I whispered.

“We don’t have a choice, Bree. We never did,” Wesley said as he took my hand in his.

“We could’ve said no,” I said quietly as the gates opened.

“Then, your father would’ve put a bullet in both of us. If he didn’t, my father would have,” Wesley said sharply as he pulled the car forward. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Bree. I don’t care how many times I have to kill. I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

“I know,” I said so softly that I wasn’t even sure he’d heard me.

Neither of us spoke again as he pulled the car into the underground garage. It was large enough to house at least fifteen cars at once. Every car we passed looked exactly like ours—black with tinted windows.

Wesley parked the car into its usual spot and shut it off. He squeezed my hand once before swinging his door open and climbing out. I sat still for a moment, forcing my emotions away. I would be in front of my father in only a few moments. If he knew of the battle raging inside of me, he’d kill me himself.

My father, the great Oliver Bowen, was the second-in-command of one of the largest Mafia families in London. He hadn’t gotten to where he was without being ruthless. Even me, his only child, had been subject to his cruelty. He’d claimed it was to remind me of my place. I thought it was simply because he was a dick.

Once I got myself in check, I climbed from the car and followed Wesley into the mansion. The house was silent this late at night. Everyone who lived here was either out on a job or asleep. The wicked rested after all.

We climbed the stairs up to the third floor and walked down the hall to where my father’s office was. Wesley knocked loudly and waited a moment before swinging the door open and stepping inside. I stayed close to him. He made me feel safe when I was around my father.

“Wesley, Bree,” my father greeted us from behind his desk.

I nodded and trained my eyes on the wall behind him. I hated my father. I wouldn’t look at him unless I had to.

“Oliver,” Wesley said, his voice devoid of emotion.

I wished I could have even an ounce of the control he had. My father terrified both of us, but Wesley never let him know it.

“I take it, everything went well?” my father asked.

I glanced at him and saw that his gaze was on me. Our bright blue eyes met briefly before I looked away again. My father was a handsome man, a man of raw power. His blond hair was kept military short. I couldn’t think of a time when I had seen him out of one of his tailor-made suits. He rarely smiled, but if he did, I knew it meant someone was going to die. That was the only time he smiled—ever.

“We had no problems at all. The target was taken care of. He had a guest in his household, who we took care of as well.”

“Good.” My father paused. “Did you help him, Bree? Or did you just stand there?”

I looked up at him but didn’t answer. My father had forced me to work with a few of his men when I first started helping out with
the family business
. I’d hesitated, and they had gleefully let him know that I was weak. Since then, Wesley or whomever he forced to work with me would have to report back to him.