“Har har. You’re legally blind. Two different things.”
“Jax, I’m okay. I’m serious.” Shawn craned his neck around on his shoulders, listening to a tendon pop with a slight wince.
“Yeah, this time.” Jaxon finished swiping at the wound angrily and wrapped a long, thin sheet of gauze around Shawn’s arm. “How’s the mask? From the blow to your head?”
“It didn’t give me any issues on my way back here.”
“I should take a look at it. Just in case.”
Shawn felt the Grim mask pull out of his grasp, and he sighed. He hopped from the workbench he’d been sitting on and knelt to untie the laces of his heavy boots, fingers moving deftly.
“Are you guys down there?” Cassie’s voice called down the basement steps, and Shawn started.
Shit, don’t need her seeing me half-dressed. “Jax, where’s my shirt?” he asked.
“Here. Heads up.” Shawn turned in the direction of his brother’s voice. His disadvantaged eyes could barely perceive the motion of the blur that was Jaxon, along with a smaller, light smudge approaching his face. He reached up and nabbed his t-shirt out of the air, and hurriedly pulled it on as Cassie’s footsteps sounded on the stairs. His mind recalled the drunken night on his couch a few weeks ago when she had tried to kiss him. He had scolded himself for not turning away instantly, which had caused nothing but more advances from his friend ever since. I don’t know how many times I have to tell her I’m not interested.
“Hey, Cassie. Well done tonight.” Shawn forced a smile.
“Thanks,” she replied as her voice came closer.
“Fuck,” Jaxon muttered. “Well, your mask’s scraped up on the side, but at least it’s still working.”
“Oh, your face!” Air moved around Shawn as Cassie rushed up to him. Her blonde hair and pale face, one he had seen many times through the eyes of the Grim mask, was now nothing but a smudge in front of him. He felt her fingers gingerly probe the bruising his brother had already complained about, which was spread along his jaw and extended up to his cheekbone.
“It’s no big deal.” Shawn pulled away from her touch after a moment and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “I’ll be good as new by tomorrow.”
“You know, dude, even with your accelerated healing, you could still become paralyzed.” Jaxon’s voice held disapproval. “Or die.”
Shawn reached his arms upward in a stretch, his injured arm protesting in a wave of dull pain.
“You need to let me make the suit stronger,” his brother said.
Here we go again. “I know, I know.”
“Jaxon’s right,” Cassie chimed in. “How many armed people did you go up against tonight? Thirty? And that was less than half of Vance’s trusted staff, not counting the hundreds of goons that run his errands. Eventually, you’re going to get shot.”
“He was shot tonight, Cassie. I had to clean the wound myself.” Jaxon’s voice faded slightly, and Shawn heard him open the refrigerator. Bottles clinked together for a moment as Cassie turned her attention back on him.
“Are you kidding me? Shawn, you could have been killed.”
“Yeah, but I took out eleven of them.” He grinned, pride warming his chest. “Those were some of Vance’s most trusted—”
“I don’t care,” Jaxon said. “Next time stick to the plan.”
“Grab me an IPA.” Shawn ignored his brother. I’m not beating myself up for this victory. He watched the blur of Jaxon move closer, and reached out expectantly. Cold, smooth glass touched his fingers, and he took the offered beer bottle. He twisted the cap off and took a long swallow of the bitter liquid, reveling in the cooling sensation it sent down his throat and into his stomach.
“How was the night vision?” Jaxon asked after a short silence.
“Freaking awesome. I could see everything after cutting the power. I picked people off one by one while they whirled around in the dark.”
“Shit,” Cassie muttered.
“What? How is that not cool?” Shawn replied with a grin. He took another pull off of his beer.
“He’s going to live.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Henry just texted me. Said Vance is in critical condition, but expected to survive.”
“Did you not slip him enough?” Jaxon’s voice was strained.
“I gave him all of the fugu I had. Disguised it in his sushi rolls.”
“Maybe he didn’t eat enough before it kicked in,” Shawn said, trying to keep the disappointment from his face.
“Henry said Vance ate the entire plate. I don’t understand how he survived.”
“Is Henry with him now?” Jaxon asked. “Can he finish the job discreetly?”
“Not possible. He’s saying they doubled his guards. There’s no way he could get alone with him right now.”
“I can go to the hospital,” Shawn spoke up. Eagerness to finish his mission filled his chest. “I can scale the wall outside, climb in through—”
“No,” both Jaxon and Cassie said in unison.
“You heard her, they doubled his guards.” His brother’s voice moved closer. “Reaching him now will be impossible.”
Shawn slumped against the workbench once more, beer loosely cradled in his hand. The condensation made the cold glass slippery. He tightened his grip, partially out of frustration. “I need to take him out. We’ve been after him for two years. This plan alone took months to pull off.” Grimacing in anger, Shawn slammed his bottle on the workbench behind him. “I took on the challenge of being Grim to kill Vance and every last one of his men for what they did to Julie, what they took from you, Jax. From all of us. And now he gets away. Again.”
“But Julie wouldn’t have wanted us to get murdered in the process.” Jaxon’s withdrawn tones were warmer now, less strained.
Shawn began to pace in a tight circle, his anger rising with each sentence. “I’ve stopped countless muggings, rapes, illegal drug trades, all while trying to get to Vance and that piece of shit Alex.”
“Shawn, my sister was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Cassie’s voice didn’t waver. “You know that. Yes, Alex pulled the trigger. Yes, Vance gave the orders, set up the deal, and protected his men from the law. But think this through. He has so many cops on his payroll here, he can find loophole after loophole to avoid punishment for what he’s done.”
“Which is why I - we - created Grim. We can’t just sit by while he continues to ruin this city and hurt innocent people. I have to keep trying. I have to kill as many as I can. This enhanced strength, how I can run faster, heal faster...all of it had to have been given to me for a reason. This is it.”
“Helping people who can’t help themselves,” Cassie said.
“Showing criminals they can’t escape justice.”
“But that in no way means rushing into situations you can’t handle,” Jaxon cut in. “I lost Julie a week before our wedding, and I don’t need to lose my only brother and best friend to these assholes, too.”
A sudden burst of static cut through the air, and then a thin voice spoke up over the speakers of Shawn’s Uniden 500.
“Jax, turn it up.” Shawn set his bottle on the table behind him and navigated the memorized route of his basement toward the police scanner.
“It’s a gang shooting,” his brother said. “You can’t—”
“Throw me my mask.”
“Shawn, you just got back from a huge fight.”
“Jax, come on.”
“Your eyes can’t handle another run, man.”
“The attack on Vance’s men only took a couple of hours. That gives me a few more before the pain starts. Besides, I always make sure to head back as soon as I feel it.”
“Okay.” Jaxon didn’t sound convinced. “Two hours, tops.”
“Yes, Mom.” Shawn grinned. Jaxon’s worried nature could be an annoyance, but he knew it was out of love. He felt the mask’s familiar fabric touch his fingers. Shawn quickly pulled it over his head and acti
vated the oversized lenses, waiting a few seconds until the pea-sized cameras began to track every movement of his eyes, linking with implants he didn’t remember being placed, transmitting the world around him directly onto his optic nerves. His brother’s pale face and black hair focused into view as he stood next to Cassie. Both wore expressions of concern.
“What about your arm?” Jaxon asked. “The bullet only grazed you, but there’s still a tear in the fabric.”
“I’ll be fine.” He slipped on the upper half of his dark grey suit over his lean chest. “How do I look? Terrifying? I bet I look terrifying.”
Cassie rolled her eyes and looked at Jaxon.
“Don’t you dare go to that hospital, man,” his brother warned.
“I won’t.” Shawn moved to the back door of his basement. “But if I see any Vance employees running around, I’m not going to hesitate to kill them.” He grinned behind his mask, waved, then rushed out into the dark night.
Chapter Three
Emma rapped her knuckles against a cheap wooden door. The sound traveled through the after hour silence of Allen Dry Cleaning, harsh in the stillness.
“Come in.”
She turned the knob and stepped into the dimly lit room.
“You’re early.” Alex looked up from a large sleek desk. A long trail of white paper contrasted with the jamocha finish underneath. Emma noted the sharp, precise lines of a blueprint.
“Will didn’t waste time.” She set her purse on a nearby chair.
“Seems the gift I sent him was effective, then.” Alex stood and stepped around the desk.
“Sure. Had nothing to do with me.”
He raised an eyebrow and held out a hand. Emma extracted a thick envelope from her purse and handed it over. She made sure to trail her fingers along Alex’s, and noted how his hard gaze faltered.
“Have you narrowed down your list of suspects yet?” he asked, tucking the envelope into a briefcase next to the desk.
Of course, ignore me. Let’s talk about work instead. “I’ve sent Grant to scope out a few employees on the list from last night’s attack. We haven’t found anything suspicious yet.”
“That’s it?”
“Alex, it’s been less than twenty-four hours. In addition, you told me I could use Isaac as well, but he’s busy with another job. On top of all that, you have me working the district attorney. I’m in the middle of that, too.”
“Keep searching.” He began to roll up the blueprint, eyes avoiding contact with hers. “I expect another report tomorrow.”
Emma stepped forward. You have to keep him interested in you, or he could snatch the job away as easily as he gave it. Then you’re right back where you started. “Alex.” She made her voice soft and low. He paused, but still didn’t look up. “You know this type of work takes longer than that. If you want infiltration done, I’m going to do it right, but that means weeks of work, even months, not hours.” She brought herself inches from his right shoulder. “Isn’t that what you want?”
He looked at her then, eyes darting along the revealing green dress she’d worn for Will, then up to her face.
“I want you to find out who Grim is working with in an efficient manner.”
“You don’t think I can do my job efficiently?” She tilted her head.
“That’s not what I said.”
“Alex, you have to give me the time I need. I guarantee the results you’re looking for, but please, don’t rush it. If you want to go about it your way and threaten everyone on our list, by all means, do so, but you know what I think?” She moved closer, brushing her chest against his arm in the slightest contact. “I think you know I can do this, and gave me the job because an infiltration will get us the most of what we want. I can find out who poisoned Vance, who Grim is working with. Hell, I can even find out who Grim is.” Emma touched the back of his hand lightly without breaking eye contact. “But you need to let me do this my way.”
He stared at her for a moment, then flinched back an inch. “What are you doing?”
“I’m asking you nicely to let me do the job you—”
“Not that, Emma. I am your superior. Not a target.”
She kept her face blank. Right. Yet you’re still trying not to stare at my tits. Hundred bucks says I have him in my pocket in the next five. Emma leaned against the desk, the sharp edge of the surface pressing against the back of her thighs. “I’m not treating you like a target, Alex.”
“Oh? The flirting? The touching? The promise of sex in your eyes? Please, tell me how that’s different.”
“Alex.” She frowned. “I don’t sleep with my targets.”
He barked out a laugh and this time walked away from her, rounding the desk and slapping a rubber band around the blueprints he’d rolled.
“Now you’re just insulting me.” Emma straightened. “You think I just fall on my back for everyone I'm working? Is that what you think my job entails?”
An uncomfortable look flickered across his face, but he didn’t reply.
“Fuck you, Alex. Asshole.” She snatched her purse, heavy with the weight of her pistol, and turned to leave. She made it out the office door when she heard him speak.
“Emma.” His voice was quiet, not demanding, not asking.
She smiled. Got you.
“Come back here,” Alex said when she didn’t respond.
Emma turned around. “What do you want?”
He stared at her through his glasses until she scoffed and entered the office once more, lowering her purse next to his blueprints.
“Sir.” His voice was callous.
“Huh?”
“‘What do you want, sir?’ I am above you, and you need to treat me with the respect of a superior.”
Are you fucking kidding me? Emma kept her face impassive. She crossed her arms and waited for him to speak. Instead, Alex moved around her and gently shut the door. When she heard the snick of the handle’s lock fall into place, her stomach did a flip.
“Alex.” She eyed him nervously, aware of her Ruger, tucked inside her purse, which rested on the desk behind her. Again, as it often did when she felt threatened in her line of work, her mind jumped to the memory of her mother. She recalled the screams. The begging. The tears of pain and fear. I was only seven when they—
“Tell me why you’re coming on to me.” He turned and faced her, eyes hard.
Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Say the right thing. Which is...what? Emma’s mind flew away from the memories of her mother and focused on the rumors of Alex’s horrific mannerisms. I’m sure they’re just whispers. You have to do what you do best for you, at least for now. Just do it. Just say it.
She gazed up into Alex’s green eyes and said, “Because I want you.” Her heart was now racing. “You want me too, don’t you?” Panic threatened to flood through her. She knew the door was locked, that she was trapped inside the office with a man who was quick to anger, known for his vicious and brutal methods. No one’s here. No one would hear me scream. She swallowed and forced herself to stand her ground, praying the turmoil in her chest didn’t show on her face.
Alex breathed in slowly, staring at her. Then he reached up, his right fingers closing around her throat, and forced her backward. She grabbed his wrist with both hands as his grip tightened and a complacent smile stretched his lips. Emma tried to speak but in her dread, no words came. Her legs bumped against the desk. Alex’s eyes were consumed by a hungry expression as he forced her back along the hard surface.
Emma let go of his wrist and reached out for her purse. She felt the back of her hand strike the leather, sending it to the floor in her panic. Alex’s fingers of his left hand slid underneath the hem of her dress and tugged at her panties, and realization flooded her mind. You fucking prick, she thought as she relaxed and let him explore between her legs.
A moment passed when an overwhelming urge to resist rose through her, but she set her mind forward, to her future. Reaching down, now ignoring his grip on her throat, Em
ma unzipped his pants. Moments later her cries echoed through the small room and escaped into the stale air of the quiet building.
—-
Shawn flexed his jaw from side to side as he waited for his toast. His face was barely sore anymore from the previous night’s battle, but it was still stiff. Barefoot, he made his way to the refrigerator and opened its door. Cool air buffeted his bare torso. He reached forward and felt along the top shelf until his fingers touched the familiar shape of the bottle of orange juice, which he picked up. Turning, he let the door fall shut with a soft whisper as he found himself a glass. He was twisting the cap when the buzzer for his gate sounded.
He quickly walked to the entrance of his home, path memorized, his vision a bright blur of early afternoon light and color. He reached the intercom and felt along its buttons for the right one.
“Yessss?” he said, drawing the word out.
“It’s me, dude,” Jaxon’s voice replied through the speaker. Shawn pressed a different button, admitting his brother. He opened the front door after a few moments, giving Jaxon enough time to walk up the path. With a grin, Shawn reached out for a handshake as the moving blur came close, but made sure his fingers bumped into Jaxon’s face.
“Ass,” his brother said, then laughed.
Shawn opened his arms for a hug instead.
“Fuck no. Put a shirt on first.”
“Jax, you’re so uptight. At least I’m wearing pants.”
The two made their way back to Shawn’s kitchen.
“How’s my face look?”
“Other than hideous? Fine. The bruising isn’t even dark anymore, just yellow. Like you got attacked with a highlighter.”
Shawn laughed and walked back to the counter just as his charred bread popped up.
“Toast?” There was a frown in Jaxon’s voice. “I thought we were meeting Cassie for lunch in an hour.”
“I had a craving. Want a beer?”
“Sure.”
“Get it yourself.” Shawn chuckled and reached out for the toaster, heat from the freshly cooked bread warm on his fingers.
Jaxon snorted and helped himself to the refrigerator. “She’s worried about you, by the way.”
Grim Ambition Page 3
