Are We Partners? | ✓

• c o n f l i c t

After piling up some bodies in a corner and shoving one down the stairs, Clark threw the empty rifle away. Although the crypt was silent, Hopkins kept vigilant.

Nobody came, and Spankin' was still away. He glanced up to the tunnel where she smiled 20 minutes ago, and the thought that one of Holt's men had captured the girl assaulted his mind.

"She'll be back soon," Clark said, sitting on the ground and searching a thug's body for ammo. After finding only two golden rings and no bullets, she grunted. "At least we killed some of this bastards."

"What if she doesn't come back?" Hopkins swallowed hard, turning to Clark. "What if—"

Clark drew a pistol from a dead man's holster and pointed it to the crypt's entrance. Hopkins, by pure reflex, did the same. His gaze met Charlie's.

"Liam Hopkins, the guardian of the girl." The newcomer smiled, waving a gun. "Watch out, pal. Sooner or later you'll start to think she's your daughter."

Hopkins frowned, aiming for Charlie's chest. "What do you want?"

"Holt has men all over the citadel, carrying the treasure away, but he gave me orders to kill you." Charlie raised his gun to Hopkins, smiling at Clark. "Nothing personal, love. Just business."

Then Clark stood from the dusty ground, laughing. Not only laughing, Hopkins realized, but finding that death threat really funny. Hopkins frowned, trying to decipher her expression. She shook her head, still smiling to a muddled Charlie.

"You're not gonna do it, honey. You're too weak to go all the away," she teased, her eyes sparking with mischief. "You've always been on the fringe, always trying to prove something, to be accepted."

"What are you saying?" Charlie muttered, all his attention on Clark. She raised her eyebrows, smiling as if saying you know what I'm trying to say. Charlie was so angry yet so puzzled that he didn't see Hopkins moving closer. "You think I don't have guts for this, Liz? Do I need to remind you who stole that damn necklace from you on the—"

On the second floor, Spankin' was back, holding a dirty rope and a smile that vanished as soon as her eyes met Charlie's. It lasted two seconds, enough for Hopkins to tackle Charlie like a football player.

They rolled on the floor, fighting for the gun that soon flew from Charlie's hand. He grunted and kicked Hopkins, crawling back to the pistol. Clark tried to push Charlie, but he slapped her and grabbed the gun. Hopkins' chest was heaving when he saw Charlie had stood up, still heavy breathing and aiming at his forehead. A thin line of blood escaped from Charlie's nose.

"I said it's fucking over, godda—"

Clark shoved him, grunting. The sound of a gunshot filled the crypt and Hopkins closed his eyes.

It was over.