Ghost and I parked our bikes in a parking garage, then I slung the small backpack over my shoulder and we casually walked down the sidewalk.
“We made good time,” Ghost said as we reached the building Facet had scouted out as our best location.
“Yep,” I said as I grabbed the fire escape ladder with a gloved hand and pulled it down. When there was no response to the slight sound it had made, we climbed up to the roof.
The intel we had from one of the shitbag’s men said the douche canoe was going to arrive at the popular nightclub around ten fifteen. Storm wanted the hit to be public. He wanted it to be known that he was cheating with the secretary when he died. Evidently, the dickwad’s parents were real assholes too. Storm wanted it to make the papers that he was a lying, cheating fuck. Personally, I didn’t give a shit. A job was a job, and the mark was a piece of crap. That’s all I needed to know.
After we each pulled on a thin black balaclava, we got to work. It took no time at all to set up, and then we waited. Ghost kept me apprised of the time as I watched the comings and goings at the club through my scope. When the time came, I needed to ensure there was no collateral damage. It was a busy club, and there were a lot of people that would be standing in line to get in.
The guy had bodyguards that traveled with him because he had several enemies due to dirty business practices. That made it helpful for us too. There would be so many possible suspects, that they’d never figure anything out. Besides the fact that we were good at what we did.
“There he is,” Ghost said barely above a whisper as the tool helped his mistress out of the fancy town car dropping them off.
From the second he said that to the moment the guy dropped dead on the sidewalk probably took less than a minute. Before he hit the ground, I was breaking down my weapon and packing up. Ghost and I ripped off the balaclavas, shoved them in the pack, and quickly made it back to the ground. We were walking back to the bikes as if it was another normal Saturday night.
We were turning into the garage entrance when I had a strange sensation and turned slightly right. I heard the pop, and my arm was on fire.
“Fuck!” I said as I stumbled and fell. Ghost disappeared, and I painfully got back to my feet, then hurried to my bike. Wincing, I stashed the bag in my saddlebag, locked it, and climbed on.
Ghost reappeared as I was starting it. “You okay?” he asked, and I nodded. “Guy disappeared into thin air, and I don’t know how far behind him the other guys were or how the fuck they knew it was us.”
We both looked at the other with concern, and I knew we were both wondering the same thing. Did the guy have the same ability Ghost did?
“Let’s go!” I said, gritting my teeth against the burn. We raced out of the garage on the opposite side and didn’t stop until we hit a small gas station right after crossing back into Iowa. We filled up, then moved into the shadows alongside the building.
“Take off your jacket,” he ordered.
“I’m fine,” I insisted, but I was feeling a little lightheaded.
“That wasn’t a request, goddamn it!”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I muttered, then I flinched as I shrugged out of my jacket.
“Holy shit,” he said under his breath as he realized my hoodie sleeve was soaked with blood. Using his knife, he sliced off the sleeve, wrapped it in a plastic bag, and shoved it in his saddlebag.
As Ghost assessed the damage, I breathed deeply to keep my head steady. I winced a few times but didn’t make a peep as he wrapped my bicep and grumbled to himself.
“We need to get you home to Angel. We’re about halfway. Think you can make it?”
I nodded, but shit started to spin when I did.
He whipped out his phone, and I heard him talking but half of it didn’t register as he ran inside and came out with a Gatorade and clean hands.
“Drink this,” he said as he held out the open bottle. I shot him a deadpan look but took the bottle with my left hand and chugged it.
“Let’s go if we’re gonna go,” I said as I handed him the empty bottle that he stashed in his saddlebag with the bag holding my sleeve. I prayed he hadn’t left any evidence behind when he went inside.
Ghost was bitching and cussing the entire time we got situated until we hit the road again. It was like I was driving drunk, but I forced myself to keep my eyes open and riding in a straight line. The rest of the trip was a blur. The next thing I remembered was awkwardly kicking the kickstand down, then falling off my bike.
I woke in the infirmary with Angel staring down at me. If thunder had a face, it would look like him at that moment.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked me with his arms crossed.
Obviously, I’d said that out loud.
“Uh, yeah, you did.” A dark brow arched as he blinked at me.
“Fuck, how long have I been out?” There was a slight twinge in my arm that hit me as I sat up.