Sunrise Malice: Chapter 21

It’s another warm summer evening. My BMW’s parked in the shadows of some big, mature trees down the block from an old car repair facility. The garage is closed now and weeds are growing in the cracks in the pavement out front, but there’s a fence around the property with barbed wire that looks brand new and a good, heavy chain on the rolling gate that blocks the driveway.

I check the time. Ten to two. I send Jean a quick message in French, telling him to get prepped. He responds with an OK, and I settle in to wait.

This is the worst part of every operation. My mind’s filled with a dozen different ways this can go wrong: it might be a trap, or we might underestimate the number of guards on the other side, or we could have the wrong location and that Serbian fuck lied to me with his final breath.

But those are all normal worries.

These days, I have extra special new problems to obsess about.

Like Brianne. She’s been at the hospital all day, from the moment visiting hours began to the moment they ended. Even though Kim’s been sleeping on and off for most of that time, she refuses to leave her friend’s side.

It’s admirable, but when I went to check on her, I could tell the strain was going to be too much.

I’ll have to do something about that. There might be a good home care option for Kim—whatever it costs, I’ll make it happen. I understand there will be physical therapy, lots of drugs, lots of healing. My wife doesn’t have to ask, we’ll take care of it all.

It’s the least I can do.

We haven’t talked about last night yet. Brianne acted like nothing happened, and I suspect that’s how she’ll play it if she gets her way.

For now, she can have her silence. I’ll let her stew for a while, but she’s my wife and I’m not letting this fucking issue fester.

We hooked up. I got her off. Yeah, it wasn’t ideal timing. She was emotional and looking for an escape. But do I mind being her distraction?

Absolutely fucking not.

I want her to lose herself with me.

That’s what I’m here for.

Hell, maybe I’m just being selfish. I keep thinking about her mouth, her perfect breasts, the taste of her pert nipples as I sucked them hard, and her hips grinding her pussy into my hard cock. I wanted to fuck her right there in the hot tub more than I’ve wanted anything in my life—but instead, I made it all about her.

I want more though. I had a taste, and it’s not like I’m going to stop wanting her now that I know she’s incredible.

Especially with this damn list burning a hole in my fucking pocket.

I flip through my phone and zoom in on the screenshot. Deep-throat blowjobs. Doggy style. I close my eyes and picture giving her exactly what she wants.

Until my phone buzzes with a message from Jean. Nous y allons.

“Fucking shit,” I mutter and focus on the task at hand.

Trucks roar past, speeding toward the abandoned garage. I type a number into my phone and lift it to my ear as it rings and rings, and I wonder if he’s going to ignore me, until the line clicks to life.

“What the fuck do you want?” Dusan doesn’t sound happy to hear me.

“It didn’t have to be like this,” I tell him as one of my men rams straight into the gate. Metal sparks on metal as the chain snaps and the fence buckles. He backs up before rolling over top and the other trucks follow him inside.

“I fully disagree. Is that all?”

“No, that’s not all. In a few hours, you’ll find the bodies of the men you sent to kill me floating down by the docks. If you want to fish them out, be my guest.”

His tone hardens. “How did you find them?”

“They weren’t exactly subtle. You realize they ran over an innocent girl and nearly killed my wife?”

“If you want me to apologize, you can go ahead and put a gun in your mouth. They were aiming for you.”

“I’m sure they were. Do you hear that noise?” In the distance, the crack of gunfire echoes through the otherwise silent neighborhood. I roll down my window and put the phone on speaker. “Listen very carefully.”

“What the fuck are you doing, Julien?”

“Taking back what’s mine. Did I mention that I took one of your men alive? He was brave at first, but he was only human. Bled very quickly.”

Dusan curses at me in Serbian as the gunfire continues. Abruptly, it cuts off, and silence falls back like a veil.

“You will pay.” Dusan’s voice shakes with anger. “This is an insult that cannot be ignored.”

“Before you hurt my wife, I was going to find a way to make peace. I didn’t want this war. But now I’m fully committed, which means I’m going to gut you, Dusan, even if that leaves me weakened and destroyed at the end of it. You never should have gotten near her. Do you hear me? That was your first and last mistake.”

“Fuck you, Julien, you swine, you piece of⁠—”

I hang up and get out of the car. I’m whistling softly to myself, a French tune from an old TV commercial, and thinking about how many fences I climbed over when I was a little kid. Dozens, hundreds, thousands even. I got really good at getting past barbed wire with the bare minimum of scratches. This time, though, all I have to do is step over, and I’m inside.

Not as fun as jumping it, but effective.

Jean meets me around behind the garage. Three dead men lay on the ground. “All theirs,” he says, sounding grim. “But we have some injured. I’m already running them back.” An SUV drives past, goes over the fallen fence, and speeds off toward the mansion where the doctor’s waiting on call.

“The drugs?”

“Hidden inside. Who knows where the truck is, but that doesn’t matter. We’re missing a few kilos, but it’s mostly all here.”

“Get it loaded.” I crouch down beside one of the corpses and roll him over. Another dead Serbian, a man I’ve never seen before. When I stand, I breathe in the smell of blood and gunpowder, and I smile. “Not a bad night.”

“Pas mal du tout,” Jean agrees. “At least until Dusan makes his next move.”

“This time, we’ll be ready.”