All My Broken Pieces (FindingLight #2)

Chapter 12

Arriana

I sip at my coffee, leaning back in my seat, feet propped up on the dashboard.

It’s been days of surveillance and almost time to be able to act. I can feel the excitement buzzing beneath my skin growing the closer it comes to being time to let out my need for violence.

This particular hit is one I’ve been looking forward to, and one I know Killian is going to be pissed he missed out on. I mull over the particulars of the job, the target a familiar name.

Thomas Fox.

My mind wanders back to the hit that changed everything. The one he ordered.

I slip on one of the uniforms, glancing down at the fake ID to find my name for this job is Juliette Cassidy. Peeking over at Killian’s, I let out a quiet chuckle at his. Casper Montegoul doesn’t quite fit the brooding man, but I like the nod to our purpose here. Just adding a few more ghosts to the world.

Killian waits for me to indicate I’m ready before we proceed toward the house. Something about this job isn’t sitting well with me. It’s not the first time we’ve been sent after someone I would deem unworthy of meeting their maker, but this particular case has me fidgeting as we grow closer.

We pause at the front door, readying ourselves for what’s about to come next. I wait for the usual excitement to build up, but find an uneasy feeling in its stead.

Killian looks to me, waiting to make sure I’m ready. Pushing down the unfamiliar feelings, I give him a curt nod. He reaches forward and raps his knuckles on the wooden door.

“Hold on!” A voice calls out from the other side.

We wait in uncomfortable silence for several moments before the door is opened, revealing a boy in his late twenties. Our target, Kenneth Ellington.

He eyes us suspiciously, angling the door between his body and ours.

Smart guy.

I allow the smile at the thought to spread on my face, hoping it helps to alleviate some of the tension.

Killian steps forward, extending his hand. “Hi, I’m Casper, and this is-”

“Juliette.” I cut him off, smiling wider at Kenneth.

Killian proceeds with the ploy, explaining to him that we’re here to install some sort of solar stuff. Whatever he says is enough to earn the trust we need to make our way inside.

Each step that brings us closer to ending Kenneth’s life fills me with dread. It’s infuriating. Usually the promise of bloodshed has me bouncing on the balls of my feet. But this time?

I glance around the walls, finding evidence of the humanitarian our target is. That mixed with all the information I bribed Andrew into giving me on how sleezy the man who ordered the hit is. Well, none of it sits well with me. But we don’t get a say in it, not while Charles is in charge.

We pivot toward the living room, Killian having dropped the ruse and directing Kenneth toward his fate. “I really wish we didn’t have to do this.” Killian’s admittance surprises me.

I study him closely, finding the same hard set to his jaw and uneasy tension lining his shoulders. Somehow the fact that this job has him just as unsettled as me makes things better yet infinitely worse.

Surprising me further, Killian offers for him to leave a goodbye message. Something unheard of in our profession. Once finished, Kenneth hands over the paper and pen he was given to scribble his last goodbye. “Thank you.” He murmurs.

My eyebrows raise at the words, definitely another first.

“You didn’t have to give me a kind death.” He explains. “Didn’t have to allow me to say goodbye.” A quiet hiccup breaks free from him, and I find I have to blink back moisture in my own eyes. “I don’t know how you ended up here, but there’s some good in you. Don’t let the darkness consume you. There’s not enough light in the world as is.”

I blink away the memory, watching the empty house as the sun begins to set. It’s only a matter of time now before Thomas will be home and I’ll be able to pay him back for what part he had in the ending of that boy’s life.

I still often think about what the world would be like if Kenneth had been allowed to live. He was snuffed out too soon, and I’ll make sure Thomas feels the full extent of the loss.

While it probably doesn’t make up for it, Killian and I made the decision early on that our company would make anonymous donations to the various charities that Kenneth had contributed to before his early demise, all made in his name.

When Andrew brought the idea of forming our own business after Charles’ death, I had the idea to name our company FindingLight after the hit that changed everything. The one that opened both mine and Killian’s eyes to the way things were but didn’t have to be. And, while it might seem like an oxymoron due to the nature of our business, I’ve found the name often serves as a reminder to hold onto our humanity amidst the darkness. To find the light where we can.

Plus it looked really good on paper. Much better than the back up plan of Three Amigos Killing Crew.

Chuckling to myself, I make up my mind to text Killian the info, knowing he’ll be upset to have missed out on the chance to avenge Kenneth’s death.

Grandpa

On my way

I settle back into my seat, taking another drink, relishing in the anticipation of the kill. A grin spreads across my face.

I’ve got some ideas.

Thomas climbs out of his fancy sports car, clicking the button to lock the doors. The beep echoes loudly in the darkened streets.

“Thanks for reaching out.” Killian murmurs, surprising me.

Pushing aside the shock, I clap his shoulder. “Sure thing, old man. Wouldn’t be the same without you.” I let out a quiet chuckle as I climb out of the vehicle, slipping on a pair of gloves.

Walking around the front of the car, I meet Killian, waiting for his signal to proceed. There’s no clever ruses this time around, only simple, clear cut murder. He nods his head and we both pull on masks, needing the extra precaution given the high profile case.

A smile lifts my lips as we creep up to the front door. I spot the sign on the window stating the house is under the protection of surveillance and have to stifle my laugh. People underestimate what someone is capable of if given the right resources and know how. And with our in-house computer genius, the monitoring system has already been disengaged.

Killian makes quick work of lock picking the front door, pushing the door open silently and waving me inside. I salute him as I pass, earning an eye roll.

The entryway is dark, only lit by a small motion sensor light plug in. The sounds of a TV echo down the hall, making our destination clear.

This is too easy.

I grow giddy at the thought, ready for something to go my way.

We sneak down the hall, pausing just at the entrance to the living room. I peek around the corner, finding our target facing away from us, his focus on the TV as he nurses a beer bottle. Looking to Killian, I jerk my head toward the back of Thomas, reaching into my pocket to pull out the hunting knife I brought along.

We slip into the room, circling Thomas to block the exits to the room.

“Hate to spoil the ending, but he dies.” Thomas jumps at the sound of my voice, whipping his head in my direction. I shrug, gesturing toward the TV. “Sorry not sorry.”

He looks at me with horrified eyes, gulping and demanding, “Who are you?” I smirk at the quiver in his voice.

Taking a step closer, I twirl the knife in my hand, watching the blood drain from his face. “Me? I’m no one. Just an instrument of destruction. A method of demise.” His confusion mingles with the palpable fear. Sighing heavily, I place a hand on my hip, waving the weapon around in the air with my other. “A hired hand. Murderer for sale. Any of this ringing a bell?” I can see the moment it clicks in his mind and the satisfaction I feel as the remaining color drains is indescribable.

He leaps to his feet, darting toward the other exit, only to run into the hard wall of muscles that is my co-conspirator for this job. Killian grips his arm, jerking him around to face me without a word.

Tsking, I slowly cross the room with a shake of my head. “Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.” I hum. “Did you really think you could get away?”

Thomas shakes in Killian’s hold, looking feverishly between us. “Wh-what are you doing here? I p-paid. I did nothing wrong!” His cries grate at my nerves, the audacity of the asshole to act like he’s innocent in all this.

“You did nothing wrong?” I echo, cocking my head at him.

He nods wildly, the stupid idiot thinking he’s somehow found a way to talk his way out of this. “Y-yeah. Just ask Charles,” I chuckle in response, my laughter growing as he awkwardly joins in. He laughs nervously, glancing between us again. “See? So, just check with your boss and we’ll be all square. Chalk this up to a mi-misunderstanding.”

My quiet laughter dies out as I bring the tip of the blade to his chin, lifting his head with the slightest pressure against his skin. “Charles is dead.” My emotionless declaration sucks the air out of Thomas’ lungs.

“Wait, b-” Before he can say whatever bullshit he was about to spout out, I angle my wrist, slicing into his flesh. He shrieks, tugging against Killian’s grip, the blood trickling down his jaw drips onto his body and the floor with his erratic movements. “You fucking bitch !” He shouts, his eyes wild with rage.

I smile sweetly, reaching my free hand forward to tap his head. “Now, now. No need for name calling.” Looking over his shoulder, I meet Killian’s gaze and jerk my head toward the couch Thomas was seated on.

Without a word, Killian drags him across the room, not even flinching at his desperate attempts to break free. Once in front of the sofa, he shoves Thomas down, crossing his arms to block his exit.

I skip across the room, giddy with the bloodlust pulsing through my veins. “Thanks, grandpa.” I singsong, laughing at his scowl. “So, we made Kenneth’s death quick and painless. I’m thinking we do the opposite for Tommy boy here. What do you think?” Thomas whimpers at my question, only serving to further my enthusiasm.

Killian surprises me by smiling my way. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I agree.”

The pure euphoric response that comes from his agreement has me ripping off my mask, needing to fully enjoy the moment. “You hear that, Tommy?” I whisper conspiratorially, leaning behind the couch to speak low into his ear. “This is going to hurt.” On the last word, I stab the blade into his shoulder, relishing in the scream that erupts from him.

Killian glances around, snatching up the TV remote and turning up the volume to drown out the cries.

I rip my knife from Thomas’ flesh, watching the blood pour from the wound. Something in the howls of pain and crimson liquid settles the frustration that has been building up inside of me since my last encounter with my baby. I find the nerves ease as I inflict pain on this asshole.

With that thought fueling me, I grip one of his wrists, jerking his arm up. “Wh-what are you doing?” He cries moments before I jab the blade into the palm of his hand. His shrieks echo loudly in the room, tears pouring down his face.

“Hey, there there. It will all be over soon.” I soothe, releasing his wrist and patting the side of his face with my bloodied hand. I set the knife down on the couch behind his neck, gripping his wrist once more. Bringing his hand up in the air, I proceed to snap each of his fingers before doing the same to his other hand.

“Ple-please sto-” His plea is cut off as I press the blade against his throat.

“Not so fun when you’re on the receiving end, is it?” I hum, reaching into my back pocket to pull out a pair of knitting needles. Holding them up, I glance up at Killian. “You want to do the honors?”

He looks between Thomas and me, his expression unreadable behind the black ski mask. After a few moments, he reaches forward and takes the offered needles. “For Kenneth.” Is all he says as he jabs each one into Thomas’ eyes.

I take a step back, removing the knife from his throat as I watch his body jerk. The needles must have hit some sort of nerve or wire pathway or something in his brain as his twitching continues long after the life has drained from his body.

Looking up from the dead man, I meet Killian’s gaze, a smile spread across my face. “That was fun.”

He grunts his agreement and begins the arduous task of cleaning up. Once we’ve erased any evidence we were in the room, we exit the house and make our way toward our vehicles. Without a word, Killian climbs into his car and drives off, leaving me to gape after his sudden exit.

“Here I thought this would be a whole bonding moment.” I grumble under my breath as I climb into the back of the van, quickly changing and shoving the knife, soiled clothing, and gloves into a trash bag to dispose of later.

After a quick inspection of myself in the rearview mirror, I climb into the driver’s seat and begin my journey home. I can already feel the melancholy settling in again at the thought of returning home to my empty condo.

An infuriating realization hits me as I grow closer to my home.

The kills aren’t enough anymore.

Not after I’ve had her . I called her my life, and I never realized how true the name was. Because my existence is empty without her.