Chapter 138: Harmon - Showmen

"Drop it," said Copycat the moment I entered the suite.

He was seated across the room, gun in hand. So far we were evenly matched. Then again, I knew precious little about my new brother. For all I knew, his marksmanship rivaled JR's.

I clung to my gun anyway.

"Why would I want to do that?" I asked, taking a cautious step forward.

"Just remember I tried to be nice," said Copycat with a smug smirk, his eyes leaving mine to look behind me.

I felt the presence come up behind me before I saw him. Despite seven years of civilian life, I was confident I could handle the situation. Death was a last resort though. I needed information. What the fuck was Copycat doing in Japan if JR was a free woman?

"Winstons are showmen, Chance. We don't do guns." His voice filled the air and a chill went through my body.

I choked. Three seconds. Too long. He already had a blade pressed up against my throat before I could form a counterattack.

"You're dead," I said, so stunned I momentarily forgot our last interaction.

I waited for the confirmation, just like when I met Copycat. Fucking hell, was there a fourth one of us?

No confirmation came.

"What did I just say? Showmen, Chance. Death is easy to fake. Now give me the gun. Nice and easy," a ghost's voice persisted in my ear.

My eyes darted across the room. Copycat gave me a coy shrug. No movement from his lips. Not even he could have mimicked this voice anyway. It was burned into my memory.

"Lance," I said, taking my finger off the trigger and thrusting the gun away from my body with a frustrated sigh.

Lance took the gun away from me, nipping my skin intentionally before he backed away.

"The look on his face. Fucking priceless," Copycat said with a cackle. His amusement was short-lived. "Where's JR?" he asked as Lance came to stand before me, within view.

"Looking sharp, Harmon," said Lance, an easy smile playing on his lips as he took me in. Only a hint of resentment surrounded my new name. I heard it anyway. "How much does your shiny, new family know, Harmon? Are you a small time pickpocket turned killer when you're fucking—" he snapped his fingers, making a show of bringing Olivia up, before tossing Copycat a glance. "Sy, what's her name?"

My nostrils flared. My hands turned into fists. I knew I couldn't afford these tells, standing before them. The clock ticking in my head was loud. The longer this dragged out, the smaller the chances were were of me finding Olivia before JR was in the wind.

Still, I could not stop myself from reacting. These men, these killers, had no right to speak her fucking name.

"Jack calls her Helen of Troy, but Ghostblade calls her Olive or baby girl, when he's feeling freaky," said Copycat's taunting voice. "Where's she at? We'd like to kill her now."

I took a step towards Copycat, the threat going right to my head. Didn't make sense. She wasn't in the room. He couldn't touch her. And yet I wanted to rip his tongue out with my bare hands.

A blow to the side of my jaw stopped me dead in my tracks.

"You tried to kill me. Left me for dead and all that. Seemed more than reasonable. Bygones?" said Lance, moments before he slammed the butt of the gun into my face. "For real this time, I swear."

When the third attempt came, I was ready for him. I ducked when his fist came at my face and countered with an uppercut, making him stagger backwards.

"Here's a fun fact: your precious JR fucked you both. It's what she does," I spat out, watching rage flash through Lance’s eyes.

He rallied, quickly slapping the smile back on his face. Copycat didn't. His face scrunched up in uncertainty.

"That's not true. She would have told me," Copycat countered, truly the besotted mark I knew him to be.

Lance was a little trickier. Harder to ruffle.

"Next you're going to say you don't know she's Marino's woman and you're just the side piece," Lance tossed at Copycat with feigned sympathy, making our new brother falter even more.

Lance tapped the muzzle of my gun against his forehead, but I wasn't fazed. He wouldn't shoot me. That wasn't how we did things. If he wanted me dead,the blade would come back into play. It'd be slow. Agonizing. Painful.

Besides, I waited years to undo that night. To erase the guilt of choosing my freedom over my brother.

"Let's not pretend she didn't have you dick lashed too. What did she promise you for getting me to stay with Marino, Lance?"

"You think I wanted you to stay? You were in my fucking way," he thundered, momentarily waving the gun around as he dropped the mask. "Had I known you were leaving, I would have helped you out the door. Fucking Chance this and Ghostblade that. I was going to take your place. Then we were going to kill—"

"Lance, darling," JR's scream cracked through the air. "Easy, baby."

Dead silence fell in the room as all eyes went to my chest.

Fuck. JR must have found the smart watch when the screaming started. I took the phone out of my breast pocket, taking control of the situation before one of them tried to.

"Make a play for the phone and I dump it in in this jug of water," I said, thinking quickly, dangling the phone over the open jug on a nearby side table.

They both froze in their tracks. I placed my old friend on speaker.

"You were going to kill who?" I asked, quick to try and put the pieces together, ignoring the pang of betrayal going through my chest.

Lance wanted me dead. He planned to kill me. To become me. Didn't matter anymore. My brother died on that rooftop. I had to get out of this room alive to make it to Olivia.

"Daddy," Olivia's scared voice cried out.

The breath caught in my throat. I swallowed, willing myself not to react. Forced a painful breath into my lungs.

"Shut the fuck up or I'll make you," JR snapped. "Time to come home, my prince," JR's uneven voice said.

JR didn't do uneven. Even though she held the gun, she wasn't in control. She was panicking. Afraid. Tell tale signs.

"When did the last seizure happen, JR?" I asked, triggering both men, their faces instantly marred in concern.

I shot Lance a grin, then Copycat, tilting the phone towards the jug.

"I drop this, JR doesn't get medical attention in time and she dies," I warned them both.

I didn't know if JR was that far gone.

If the seizures were severe enough for death, but neither did they. Lance was right. Winstons were showmen. I was preparing to give them one hell of a performance.