Chapter Twelve

With a stunned expression, Ice gaped at him across the short distance.

For a moment, a blank look swept over Ice’s face before the man looked down at the bullet hole in his shirt.

Then Ice stumbled and grabbed the railing.

Echo didn’t approach. Instead, he watched as Ice slid down to his ass and pressed a hand to his abdomen.

Lifting his gun, Echo pointed it at Ice’s head and waited until the assassin looked up. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact staring him in the face. It had been Ice who had videoed him doing a hit! He knew he was going to kill someone he recognized on this pier tonight, but never in a million years would he have thought it would be Ice.

What the fuck had Ice been thinking?

He knew the man had been searching for him, but was the video the only way to get his attention? Was this Ice’s way of courting?

It didn’t matter.

If a person jeopardized the company, they were history, plain and simple, and the rule was to have them retired.

Permanently.

Ice mouthed something at him and Echo squinted, trying to read his lips, his finger still on the trigger. When Ice whispered this time, Echo knew and clenched his teeth.

Echo.

Why the hell had Ice spoken his name? Did he think that saying his name would personalize this shit? There were real consequences for being a traitor in this business.

“This dance is over.” He spoke just loud enough for Ice to hear him across the distance.

Ice swallowed hard and lifted his hand to press fingers to his throat, leaving a trail of blood.

Echo could leave and let Ice bleed out, but he wasn’t that cold hearted. He’d end it quickly. He should have already ended it. His finger was still on the fucking trigger.

Ice nodded as if sensing his hesitation and then closed his eyes. Something hard tightened in Echo’s chest, and all he could think of was why? Why the fuck did Ice do this?

Echo’s cell phone buzzed and he almost ignored it. It was probably Solomon or Wrath trying to get in touch with him, but it rang insistently.

Irritated, he tugged it out while holding the gun on Ice in case the assassin was faking it. He wouldn’t give the man a chance to slip away. What Ice had done was going to cost him his life.

Echo answered it.

“Is it done?” The robotic voice was unexpected.

Echo forgot to breathe.

His eyes flipped wildly around and then up and over to Ice. The man still sat with his hands, palms upward, lax at his sides.

What Ice didn’t have in either hand was a phone.

No phone.

No fucking phone.

Then who had sent the video and now called him? He jerked the cell away from his ear—it was the same number as the video clip.

“It’s done.” Instinct had Echo responding. He lifted his shocked gaze from the phone in his hand and back to Ice. The assassin could have pulled his gun and killed him by now when his attention had been snared by the phone call. Why hadn’t he? Why was he still breathing when Ice could have ended his life several ways as soon as he’d taken the call?

But Ice hadn’t taken the shot.

Echo started forward, and Ice jerked upright and rolled over the wooden railing and into the water.

“Ice! Wait…” Echo ran, he was fucking fast, but he got there too late to do anything but gaze over the railing at the dark churning water.

“Fuck, fuck!” Echo snarled and without thinking, he leaped the railing, gun and all. He went in feet first and the cold water closed over his head. It was dark as shit and he stayed under as long as he could hold his breath, searching the black depths.

He saw nothing.

No body, no shadow, it was too fucking dark. Surfacing for air, he slapped at the water.

“Shit! God damn it!” he shouted. “Ice! Ice!”

Only silence answered him.

Reaching the shore, Ice pulled himself up to lay in a rocky crevice. He thought he heard Echo shouting, but he had to be hallucinating.

Assassins never shouted. It was detrimental to their health. Ah, well, was this the way he was going out? It was hard to wrap his head around, but since he was going to die here tonight, he was glad that Echo had been the one to do it.

He wondered if it had been Echo’s idea to terminate him or had he just been another job? And why? He couldn’t recall doing something that bad that would piss Echo off. Or anyone else for that matter. He’d never know for sure who had ordered the hit, because it had surely been a hit.

An old saying suddenly came to mind.

Live by the sword, die by the sword.

The ocean smelled of salt, sand, and seaweed, and he figured it would be a good way to go if he could just let the waves carry him away and sink into the darkness.

“You fucker!”

He gazed up when Echo’s face appeared over him. Okay, now he really was hallucinating.

Just in case, Ice held out his hand to stop the knife attack that was surely coming. Just let him bleed out, let him go in peace.

“Don’t. Just…let me float on the waves.”

At the choked-out words, something ragged grew in Echo chest and it pissed him off.

“I should gut you,” he snapped, his breath coming in huge gasps…it had to be from searching the water and not the feeling of panic he couldn’t shake.

He never fucking panicked in a situation like this.

Ever.

Reaching down, he hauled Ice up, which wasn’t easy since the fucker outweighed him by a lot. Ice swayed, panted, and groaned. With Ice’s arm around his neck and his own gripping the assassin’s waist, Echo walked them as far up out of the rocks and water as he could and gently lowered Ice onto the sandy part of the beach.

“Hey, are you guys okay?” a voice called out.

“Do we look okay?” Echo snapped with a glare at the surfer dude, who ran up to them. “Do you have a phone?”

“Yeah,” the guy said slowly and handed it over.

Echo dialed one of the hundreds of numbers he had stashed in his head.

“Hello?”

“Justice? It’s me. I need you to ping this number and come get me and Ice.”

“I’m on my way.”

Echo handed back the guy’s phone. “Stick around. My friend can find us, but only if you don’t move.”

“Shouldn’t I call 911?”

“No.” Echo reached down and slapped Ice in the face.

“Oww,” the man croaked and opened his eyes.

“Don’t go to sleep. You hear me?”

“Yeah.”

Echo took off his own shirt and pressed it to the wound on Ice’s lower abdomen. It hadn’t been a kill shot. He’d only delivered it to keep Ice in one place while he killed him.

Ice held his eyes and suddenly Echo had to look away.