That Was Then (The Re-Do Series Book 1) (10 page)

K
endall

I don’t know what to say. I’m literally speechless, which seems to be the norm tonight. I’m trying not to think too hard. If I do, I’ll explode from the pressure. My heart and my head are saying two different things. According to Uncle Henry, Charlie’s dad, women who listen to their heart get hurt more often than not.

I’m not really fishing for any kind of pain right now, especially the kind that comes along with death. Suddenly, when faced with the afterlife, being single on Valentine’s Day doesn’t sound all that bad.

That’s what my head is saying.

But my heart is saying that Alistair has changed. He admitted that he was wrong. He’s different now. I believe that people can change. Heck, I used to refuse to dunk my Oreos in milk. Now, I’ve matured.

I shift in the seat as we near my house. I’m still not sure how he knows where I live, but that’s far from the most surprising thing that’s happened tonight.

“What did you say to Maveth?”

“Huh?”

He glances my way. The streetlamps outside highlight his rugged jaw. What is wrong with me? How can I still be attracted to this… killer?

Alistair’s not a killer anymore,
my heart defends.

Gah! This is so confusing.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts and focus on the conversation at hand.

“Before he answered your questions, what did you say to him?”

“Oh,” Alistair licks his lips, “
vivere gladio est perire gladio
. It means ‘live by the sword, die by the sword’. It was the mission of our league.”

Wow. That’s dark.

“Why did you say it to him?”

“Maveth knew my league name,
Thanathus
. His voice was familiar. I wanted to prove that he indeed was from the league.”

“Oh.”

Alistair stops in front of my house.

“Well, thanks. I can take it from here.” I say, hopping out of the car as if a hundred assassins are on my tail.

“I’m coming with you.” Alistair unlocks his seatbelt.

I freeze.

“No, I don’t think so.”

I need some time and space to regroup and figure out what I’m going to do about him.

“I know you don’t trust me, but I need to make sure you’re locked in safe. For my own peace of mind.”

I give in.

Alistair follows me to my apartment. It’s just after mid-night, but the hallways are pitch black. I’m scared now that I know assassins might be lurking about in the shadows. I really should complain about the lack of lighting in the foyer.

As I climb up the stairs, I stumble on something soft and firm. Immediately, my mind conjures images of Maveth’s dead body. I start screaming like a maniac. In the blink of an eye, Alistair pulls me behind him and lunges forward.

While I scream, I fiddle with my phone to turn on the flashlight and beam it toward Alistair and the body. The light illuminates Alistair with his arms around poor Mr. Jenkins’s neck.

“Let him go!” I surge forward and smack the assassin, or ex-assassin, on the arm.

“Sorry,” Alistair apologizes.

Mr. Jenkins just passes out on the ground again. His wife left him earlier this month. Nobody in the building was surprised. They fought a lot. They were never loud or anything, but the tension was pretty obvious. It tore Mr. Jenkins up when she walked out.

“We need to get him to his apartment.”

I lead the way and Alistair carries Mr. Jenkins behind me. I stick my fingers around the older man’s pockets to find his key and let him. Thankfully, the lights in the halls are working so I can look out for mercenaries and dead bodies.

There are none that I can see.

After dumping Mr. J on his bed, I hightail it out of there. I’m not too keen on us leaving the door wide open to the hall. The sooner I’m alone in my apartment, the sooner I can decompress. A lot’s happened tonight.

I think I’ve changed a little too. So much so, that I plan on calling a locksmith as soon as the sun comes up. My doors need a little more protection if I’m going to get any sleep for the next few days.

Alistair waits patiently while I fiddle with the lock on my apartment door. He gestures for me to wait outside, but since I’m pretty much tired of being scared and taking his directions, I follow him into the dark room anyway.

He shoots me a look of annoyance. I simply shrug and mimic his careful steps. Now that I know he’s an assassin-or
was
an assassin-I recognize some things about him that I never did before.

Like the way he walks.

The guy is practically silent on his feet.

He holds up his hands in an indication to wait. I do. Alistair stands still and simply closes his eyes. I can’t even hear him breathing. For a moment, I fear he’s turned to stone. He opens his eyes suddenly and turns to me.

“It’s all clear.”

“How do you know?”

“Because the room isn’t still.”

I guess that’s assassin mumbo-jumbo. I don’t even want to know.

Bending down, I slip my feet out of my shoes and wiggle my toes. The puppies are crying out in relief. After trekking through the Caribbean jungle and climbing into and out of a dry well, they deserve some love.

“Well, thanks for everything but I’m going to say good-”

My words trail mid-sentence when I realize that Alistair isn’t even out here anymore.

“Hello?”

I tiptoe down the short corridor and catch him in my bedroom.

“What the heck are you doing in here?”

He’s calm, cool and collected when he replies.

“I’m checking your windows.”

I have the kind of windows with glass panes that move when you turn the knobs on the sides. I also have burglar bars. No one’s getting through these windows, so there’s really no reason for him to be in my bedroom.

“Well, get out.”

I’m more surprised than upset that he’s in here. It’s kind of obvious that this is an invasion of privacy.

He doesn’t put up a fight as he leaves. “You need a security system.”

I blow a raspberry. “Yeah, okay. Thanks for that.”

Alistair doesn’t slow down. He strides into my bathroom next, taking note of the windows, the bathtub, and even the closets. He looks so intent that I’m not sure he remembers that I’m here.

“Do you know how to use a gun?”

“A-a gun?”

Why the heck would I know how to use a gun?

“Yes,” he turns toward me, his eyes intense.

“No.”

He steps closer. The bathroom is small, cozy. I’m glad I cleaned it on a whim last weekend. I crane my neck to meet his eyes. He looks like the Alistair I went out with tonight. The hard-faced assassin that emerged when Maveth attacked us has been overshadowed.

I want to trust this man, but I just can’t.

His hand reaches out. I think he’s going to touch me, but he stops. The limb falls dismally to his side. He speaks in a low, gravelly tone instead.

“I’ve made mistakes. I have a past that I’m not proud of and that I don’t expect you to understand. When I leave you tonight, I’m not coming back.”

I’m disappointed. A part of me wants to continue to get to know Alistair. The other part is glad that I won’t have to deal with all that comes with dating someone with so much baggage. It’s probably smarter to break ties now.

But somehow, never seeing him again feels… wrong.

His eyes lift from the floor to stare into mine.

“I need to know that you’re safe, Kendall. Promise me, that you won’t go anywhere alone at night. Get your gun license and arm yourself. Be cautious, at least for the next few days. I …” he inhales deeply, “I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt. Ever.”

“I promise.”

Alistair nods and walks out of the bathroom.

I stand still for a moment, allowing his words to wash over me. It’s the closest we’ve come to discussing our feelings since we met. Whatever this man is or was, he cares about me. I could see it in his eyes.

I rush out of the bathroom and charge down the hall.

“Alistair!”

He freezes and whirls around in time to catch me when I launch myself at him, hugging him like there’s no tomorrow. He stands solidly on the ground. His arms band my waist. I squeeze him tight, feeling a rush of emotions swallowing my entire being.

He lets me go and nudges me away.

“Be safe.”

He stares at me as if taking a picture with his eyes. Alistair does not acknowledge my instruction.

Live by the sword. Die by the sword
.

He can’t guarantee life, the same way I can’t demand it. This may be the last time we see each other. Without another word, he opens my apartment door. I listen for footsteps until I realize he won’t leave until he’s heard me lock up.

I do so and only then does Alistair Howard walk away.

A
listair

My rental is at the restaurant, so I “borrow” a bicycle chained to the rack outside of Kendall’s apartment. I leave a couple hundred dollar bills under the lock for the owner’s trouble. The Belizean roads are dark, expect for the spots lit by the street lamps. But the night is far from quiet.

Toads, crickets, and cicadas sing throaty songs. The wind rushes through the tree leaves and the faint strains of a nightclub’s bass speakers sound in the distance. I’m focused on pedaling. If my breath comes hard and fast, if my legs burn, if my chest can barely expand and contract maybe I can forget about her.

Just for a few minutes.

The exercise is fruitless. Kendall is as much on my mind as she was when she hugged me. It was a simple, innocent move but it made more of an impact than anything I have ever experienced with a woman.

In her red dress, bare feet, and flowing dark hair, she seemed an angel. When her brown arms wrapped around me, I didn’t want to let her go. I wanted to hold on to the softness of her waist, to the purity of her heart.

Letting go was the hardest thing I have ever done. Pushing her away was near impossible. But I did. I did because establishing ties with Kendall is dangerous. When an assassin is marked, the family is fair game.

Loved ones are guaranteed to draw even the hardest heart out of hiding. I can’t put Kendall’s life in jeopardy more than I already have. It was a mistake to ask her out. I’m glad that our connection was only witnessed by Maveth.

All I need to do now is dispose of his body and then I’m going to run far, far away from Belize. Kendall will be safe and I will have that security at least. When I die, it will be protecting her, even if it’s just from afar.

I quickly throw the bike down when I near the dilapidated hut. Running into the foliage, I scale the ladder leading into the well and throw the door open, mentally preparing myself for what I have to do.

I feel a shift in the air immediately. My eyes search the area where Maveth’s body had fallen.

Maveth isn’t there.

With rising panic, I search the entire room. There’s no sign of the assassin anywhere.

I rush out of the well and search the surrounding area for tracks. There are none. I return to the training room to search for clues. I’m rummaging around the old desk I keep for writing when I notice that a drawer is slightly open.

With trembling fingers, I search the contents, afraid to see the truth. How could I have been so stupid? I can only blame myself. I was so occupied with Kendall that I did only a superficial testing of Maveth’s pulse. The assassin must have faked his death.

The realization is almost painful.

Up until this point, I’d entertained the idea that another assassin discovered my hiding place, waited until I had left, and took Maveth’s body. At least in that event, no one would be aware of Kendall’s name or face.

My gut is telling me that I’ve been had.

The drawer is clean. I slam it shut and kneel to analyze the floor around the desk. A piece of paper lies innocently on the ground. It’s so out of place in the room that for a minute, I just stare at it.

Eventually, I pick it up. The sheet is flimsy in my hands. I bring it to my nose and sniff. It reeks of nightlock. With growing fear, my eyes peruse the page. There is only one word on the white surface.

Kendall
.

TO BE CONTINUED…

A Word from the Author

Hello! Thank you for coming along on this journey with me. If you enjoyed this story, I would be honored if you would let others know by writing a review on Amazon. Word of mouth is important for an author’s success. Thank you for your support!

I would love to hear from you at
[email protected]

You can also follow me on IG: Nia Arthurs @nia_bks and Twitter: @niaarthurs