The Most Dangerous Dame

I gave her hand a squeeze. “No one else I’d rather be lost with, sweetheart.”

She laughed softly as she slid closer. “Still looking out for me, Mick?”

“Always.”

“Thank you. For everything.” I smelled the clean herbal scent of her hair and the faintly lingering smell of lavender soap that clung to her skin when she leaned against me. No perfume created could match that perfect combination.

“I miss them so much.” She clutched me tighter.

“So do I, darlin’.” I slid an arm around her shoulder. “So do I.”

“Don’t leave, Mick.”

“I’m right here.”

No more words were spoken. I sat and listened to Natasha’s breathing as she slid into what I hoped were sweet dreams, leaving me with the rain and ghosts of the past. It seemed only yesterday the Luzzattis had me over for dinner, teaching me the value of friendship and conversation. I might have wound up just another lug on the streets if they hadn’t taken a chance on me. But that wasn’t the true reason I was always drawn to Natasha’s apartment. I owed the Luzzattis a lot, but those debts had been canceled when they died.

Natasha was another matter. As I felt her sleeping body rise and fall against mine, my mind opened the door to forbidden hopes, whispers of dreams I knew would never come to be. Natasha was the only woman that could make an honest man out of me, but as long as my occupation was shooting trouble there was no way that could ever happen. I made too many enemies too fast. Any number of them wouldn’t hesitate to take down someone I loved. And even if they didn’t come for her, there was always someone coming for me. A romantic angle with Natasha was a recipe for disaster any way you sliced it, and I wasn’t the cook to serve it up.

I hadn’t planned on falling asleep, but I found myself shakily pulled from the stratum of in-between dreaming by what sounded like a faint voice calling my name. The rain pattered against the window, where blurred streaks of multicolored lights revealed air traffic just beginning to swell with the early morning commute.

The Datacom in my ear buzzed with an incoming call. I tapped it to accept.

“Hello, Mick.” The garbled voice that buzzed over the line dripped with mockery. “Did you enjoy your little fall from the sky? Did it wake up any old memories? Or do we need to play some more?”

I carefully pulled away from Natasha. She murmured softly, but didn’t wake up. I crept to the window, pressing the button to lower the blinds. “You again. Gonna tell me who you are, or are we still playing kid games?”

“You know, that was such an emotional scene. Are you in love with the girl, Mick? Or is it just some warped ‘father figure’ thing you have going on?”

My temples throbbed as I spat my words through gritted teeth. “Listen, punk. You got a beef with me, then deal with me. You involve anyone else and things will get messy.”

“Relax, Mick.” The voice sounded decidedly amused. “The girl doesn’t meet the criteria. You want to know who I am?”

“That’s right.”

“I’m the one who killed Sophia Flacco.”

My blood ran cold as my hand automatically pulled the Broad from her holster. The fact that I didn’t have a target was irrelevant. I knew a cold-blooded killer when I heard one, and I knew the perp wouldn’t have bothered calling if he didn’t already have the upper hand.

The voice continued to slither in my ear. “I slit her throat and felt the warm blood gush over my hands. You know the sensation, Mick. You did the same many times before, haven’t you? Oh, I forgot — you don’t remember. How convenient.”

My jaw clenched. “What do you want?”

“We should meet. It’s time we had a face to face conversation.”

“What if I’m not feeling all that conversational?”

The voice laughed. “Then I pump your pretty little friend full of hot lead. I’m stationed on a hovering floater two hundred yards away, looking down the scope of an M1000 sniper rifle. The scope is X-ray equipped, so no point in trying anything stupid. You won’t get to her in time, and all you’ll do is hold her tattered body in your arms. You should know the power behind the M1000. Brick, steel, whatever — not enough to stop one of these armor-piercing, explosive tipped rounds. So I suggest you get conversational real quick, because I’m not exactly known for my patient side.”

I cut a glance at Natasha. She still slept the slumber of the innocent against one of her fringed sofa pillows. Her dark hair was splayed across her face, her lips parted. I knew the assassin wouldn’t hesitate to carry out his threat. The rounds would shred her soft flesh, detonate inside of her organs and turn her body into pulp in a few pulls of the trigger.

“Where do you wanna meet?”

“In the alley just outside the building. Make sure to leave that cannon behind. Remember: I’m watching you. You make a mistake and the girl pays the price.”

“I’ll be right there.”