Page 40 of Dressed to Kill
Aleksi was on his way. He had to be. That was who he was. He'd be on it somewhere by now, doing whatever vor things you did to find a missing man. He was going to walk into Pavel, Mr. K, the Italian at the door. He was going to die for me on a shop floor in Greek Village. I hadn't even kissed him properly yet.
Don't come,you fucking idiot. Don't come. Please come.
"Pavel."
Pavel came round and pulled a small folding knife from his cardigan pocket.
"Let's get him on his feet."
The knife came at my right ankle. I twisted under it. The chair grunted. The blade stopped against the inside of my foot.
"Finlay," Mr. K scolded. "You're making this harder than it has to be."
"Aye. I am."
The Italian at the front door of the room stepped in with his sidearm coming up. Mr. K raised a finger, and the Italian stopped where he stood. The rifleman against the back wall didn't move. He didn't need to. He was Pavel's man from this morning, the one I'd put a paperweight through. Someone had taped his nose with a field dressing, gone red at the edges already.
Pavel got the first ankle free. He'd just reached for the second when the bell at the door rang.
My chest dropped through my ribs. I knew.
Mr. K knew too. He turned his head a fraction toward the back office door.
The Italian at the front door pivoted with his sidearm already coming up. The first shot was in the room before anyone was ready. It took him in the throat. He went sideways into the doorway with the sound of a wet bag. The sidearm hit the boards before he did.
I flinched so hard that the chair lifted at the back legs.
The rifleman at the back wall came off it fast. The second shot took him under the jaw. He sat down against the wall and stayed sat. The rifle clattered off his lap.
Aleksi.
It had to be Aleksi.
Pavel dropped the knife. He reached for the gun at the small of his back. The third shot came from the doorway behind him and took him in the back before his hand made it.
He went forward onto his face on the boards. The three-bar cross at his neck swung once and stayed.
He was here. He'd come!
Mr. K was already at the back door. Aleksi spotted him over my head and fired. The round went into the doorframe a finger from his ear. Mr. K ducked through the back door and pulled it shut behind him.
I should have cared more that he’d gotten away.
I didn't. Aleksi came round the front of the chair, and I'd run out of room for anything else.
He looked like shit. His coat was open, his tie was on wrong, and he had blood on his cuff that wasn't his. His lips were a thin, angry line. He'd come in here ready to put four bodies on the floor, and he'd settled for three, and the one that got away was the one he'd wanted.
"Christ," he said. Like I'd been a fucking inconvenience.
"Aye, took yer fucking time."
"Shut up, Fin."
He started cutting the ropes. My shoulders unlocked, and I made a sound I wasn't proud of. My arms came forward and dropped where they wanted. Wrist next. Pins and needles started before he'd got the rope clear. I bit the inside of my cheek. No tears in front of him this time.
He took one of my hands and worked it roughly between his. It hurt. The blood coming back into fingers that had given up an hour ago hurt like a bastard. He did the other hand the same way.
"Yer hair needs cutting," I managed.
