In His Sights (Stealth Series Book 2)

by Danica Winters

  She didn’t have time for a relationship. In many ways, having her niece in her life was significantly easier and far less dangerous for her heart than having a man. Though they both had the power to break her heart, Jarrod seemed far more likely to do so.

  She glanced down at their hands and then up to his face. There were the start of fine lines around his eyes—he had the face of a man who had seen what life could bring. He was clearly a good man, but that didn’t mean he saw the world the way she did, or that he could promise he would keep her heart safe if she chose to give it to him for safekeeping.

  But she was jumping ahead again. He had made no promises. He had barely hinted at anything beyond friendship. In fact, she barely knew this man. Still, even though they had just met, it didn’t change the pull she felt every time she thought of him. She had to fight her feelings and pull them back before she was too far gone. Vulnerability wasn’t a luxury she could afford. Not now. Not ever.

  The lady leading the class handed out tambourines. Jarrod’s face was pinched as he looked at the instrument. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought that someone had just handed him an active warhead—though, perhaps he would have looked slightly more at ease.

  She sat Anya down and took her tambourine. “It’s going to be okay, Jarrod. It’s only an hour.” She could have sworn he looked even more tormented at the mention of time.

  “All right, everyone, let’s sing while we count with our tambourines,” the instructor said.

  Surprisingly, Jarrod found the beat and pretty soon he was even helping Anya shake her tambourine in unison with the other children. After about ten minutes, and three songs and something Ms. Peppercorn called a happy heart yoga pose, Mindy saw the start of a smile on his face. Sure, he could act all tough and manly, but no man could resist the joy of seeing children completely enjoying themselves. She would have gone so far as to say he even looked comfortable.

  And dang it if it didn’t make her like him even more. By the end of the class, he was singing with Anya at the top of his lungs, and thankfully the tambourines had been put away. They’d gone through kazoos, drumsticks, whistles and harmonicas, and her head was throbbing. It didn’t escape her that after all her teasing, she was the one paying the price for the cacophony. Karma was rearing its ugly head.

  The man in the red shirt had moved closer during each song. And, out of the corner of her eye, she could see him watching Anya. In an attempt to shield her from the man’s gaze, Mindy pulled Anya in closer to her legs and farther out of the man’s field of vision.

  As the class came to an end, the man kept looking over at them. The child beside him was peering up at him, and though they had seemed to enjoy themselves, the child looked almost frightened at the prospect of leaving with him. It struck her as odd, but she questioned herself for judging anyone with their child. She wasn’t really a parent. She didn’t know enough about kids to really understand exactly what dynamic was happening, so to jump to any conclusions was out of the question.

  She nudged Jarrod. “Look at that guy,” she said, motioning with her chin toward the man and the child.

  As he glanced over at them, the little girl at the man’s side rushed away from him and over to the instructor. The man frowned and looked over at them. He noticed them staring, and instead of going after the little girl and bringing her back, he moved toward the door. As he turned, Mindy made out the telltale bulge at the man’s hip. He was carrying a gun.

  The guy looked back at them, giving her a menacing grin and mouthed the words you’re dead.

  As they approached the man, one of the moms stepped in her way, saying something she barely heard about organic produce. She tried to push past her to go after the man, but the woman seemed hell-bent on telling her something about the health benefits of going vegan.

  The man’s hand dropped to his gun, like any minute he would start shooting.

  The woman said something about asparagus.

  Mindy bit her tongue, but all she wanted to do was tell the woman that no one cared, especially when there was a killer in their midst.

  The man smirked and sidestepped out the door, their eyes locked until the moment he disappeared outside.

  What in the hell was going on?

  The little girl wrapped her arms around the instructor’s legs as the rest of the children and their guardians streamed out of the room.

  Jarrod moved after the man, but Mindy stopped him. “Wait...”

  He looked as though he was about to argue but stopped and took a breath. “We need to get our hands on that man. Find out who he’s with.”

  He was right, but as much as she wanted the information, they had to get out of there. “For all we know, we are going to get jumped the second we walk out of here. We need to go somewhere we can be safe.”

  He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “If he’s waiting outside, he’s stupid.”

  “Anya,” she said, leaning down, “are you ready to go?”

  Anya stood up and wrapped her arms around her legs, just like she must have seen the other little girl do to the instructor.

  “Do you know this little girl?” the instructor asked as she made her way over to them.

  Mindy shook her head.

  “She said she didn’t know that man.” The woman picked up the little girl and pulled her into her arms. The girl buried her blond head into the woman’s neck, and her back shuddered as she sobbed. “He took her from the park. I bet it was the one two blocks down.”

  “Her mother...” Mindy said, looking to Jarrod as she thought of how the poor mother must be feeling right now, realizing that her daughter was gone. “If he’s willing to kidnap a child without fear of reprisal, who knows what else he is capable of. He has to be found.”

  “Call the police,” Jarrod said. “I’ll see if I can get my hands on him before it’s too late.”

  The instructor hurried to the phone and dialed as he rushed out with Mindy and Anya behind him, leaving their stroller.

  “Stay here,” he said as they reached the sidewalk in front of the building. People brushed by, moving between them in their rush to get wherever they were going.

  She shook her head. “You can’t leave us.”

  “I’ll be right back,” he urged. “Really, my going alone is the only chance we have to catch this guy. Go back inside.”

  Though she wanted to keep her protector with her, she had to let him go. They had to find out what was really going on...and who their enemies were.

  “Go.” She waved him on. “But be safe.”

  * * *

  SOMETHING ABOUT THE way she looked at him, like she was torn between needing him and pushing him away, pulled at his heart. Her green eyes reflected the world around them, the masses of people and the confusion, but at their center was a call to him. If she asked for just about anything, he wasn’t sure he could refuse her.

  He was just lucky she wasn’t asking for his heart.

  Forcing himself to turn away, he rushed in the direction the man had gone.

  The odds weren’t in his favor, but he had to try. He wasn’t the kind of man who could watch an innocent child be victimized and then do nothing about it. This man was a lowlife who seemed to believe it was acceptable to use a child as a weapon of war, and as far as he could tell, a war was exactly where they had found themselves.

  And war was far better than being home. In war, he could cut down his enemy and watch as their blood peppered the ground. There was some amount of justice, unlike with Trish’s death. Bayural prided himself at being untouchable. Which meant as soon as Jarrod went home to Montana, he would be forced to come face-to-face with his failure—and he wasn’t a man who could fail.

  About a block down he spotted the kidnapper. He thought about calling out, yelling for someone to grab the man, but most people weren’t like him. Most didn’t want to get
their hands dirty. Most people put self-preservation above a call to arms given by an absolute stranger. Maybe people were smarter than him in that regard, but he knew how to grab life by the horns and ride it for all it had.

  He didn’t wait for the walk sign; instead, he ran, weaving through the slow-moving bumper-to-bumper traffic. The driver of a black Tundra honked as he dodged out in front of it. He smacked the hood as the vehicle sped up, forcing him to jump and slide over their hood. As his feet touched the ground, he flipped the driver the bird. The driver returned the motion with both hands.

  Okay, so maybe Jarrod wasn’t so different from other people. Just like the rest of the world, he wasn’t above biting back. And, if he got his hands on the bastard who had kidnapped the girl, he would tear that sucker up.

  The man in the red shirt turned and glanced in his direction at the sound of one last honk. Even from almost a block away, Jarrod could see the look of recognition on the man’s face, but it quickly turned to a look of desperation.

  Jarrod ran toward him, pushing his way through the crowd. It was at times like this that he wished he was back with his team. A quick call on the handset and this guy would have already been taken down to his knees. As it was, here he was playing a game of cat and mouse.

  He lost sight of the man as he rushed in the direction he had last seen him. By the time he made it to the spot he’d seen the guy, he was gone.

  Luckily, a woman in a frumpy brown wool peacoat pointed to the left. “He went that way. Into the deli.”

  He wasn’t sure if he should listen to the woman. In a place like NYC it was sometimes hard to tell which side of the law a person cheered for. But her tip-off was all he had until the police showed up. That was if they showed up.

  The girl hadn’t been hurt, only abducted and a bit shaken up. In some circles, something like that barely warranted their becoming involved. There were murders waiting to be solved and kids that were actively missing. For them, this girl’s story actually ended pretty well. But he didn’t hold himself to the same standard. As jaded as he was by war and the travesties that came with it, he couldn’t be just a passive observer.

  He rushed into the deli. The place smelled like smoked meat and expensive cheese, and it was so packed with people that there was standing room only and even that was in high demand. The man must have known NYC to have picked such a popular deli, a deli where he could quickly disappear in the crowd and slip out of Jarrod’s grasp. That was, assuming the guy was even in the place.

  From where Jarrod stood, he could almost see the front counter through the rustling field of heads and shoulders. He wasn’t a small man, but standing there in such close quarters with everyone else made him feel utterly insignificant.

  This was hopeless. He should have just stayed out of this and ignored his need to be a hero. Perhaps his ego had run away with him in thinking he could make a difference. Here, without his family and team, he was only a single man standing against evil.

  Or maybe he didn’t have to be quite as alone. He pulled out his phone. He maneuvered between people until he spotted the guy in the red shirt near the back door, leading to the kitchen. He was scanning the crowd, no doubt searching for Jarrod.

  Before the man had a chance to spot him, he snapped a picture. The kidnapper pressed open the swinging door and slipped into the back.

  Beside Jarrod stood a man who had to be at least six foot seven and pushing three hundred pounds. Jarrod tried to go around him, but he moved to block Jarrod’s path.

  “Out of the way. Police business,” Jarrod said, but as he moved to take a step the big man didn’t budge.

  Instead, he glowered down on him, anger and impatience in his eyes. “Sure,” he said with a smirk. “Look, man, you can get in line like everyone else.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of a nearly nonexistent line that was more a mash-up of bodies.

  The man behind him nodded in agreement, and though he wasn’t as big, he looked like he was itching for a fight.

  “I’m not here for a damned sandwich. I’m here to do my job. Now get out of my way,” he urged.

  “Flash the badge or you get your ass to the back of the line, man,” the tall guy said, and this time his voice took on a harder edge and his body stiffened as though he was preparing to throw a punch.

  Though Jarrod was tough, looking at the guy’s biceps made him question his prowess. The dude’s arms were as thick as his thighs. One well-placed punch and he would be eating through a straw for at least a month.

  Fighting this guy would be about as worthless as continuing the chase.

  He had the kidnapper’s picture. With Jarrod’s team, that was just about as good as a death warrant.

  Chapter Nine

  She wasn’t a doormat, no way. But right now, standing with Anya and staring down the sidewalk in the direction that Jarrod had disappeared, she felt weak.

  It wasn’t that she needed him, she reminded herself. No. What she needed was to know they were safe. And as much as she had thought she could protect herself, this week had proved otherwise.

  And perhaps that was what made her feel weakest of all—she had been unable to save herself.

  For her entire life, she had convinced herself that she could handle anything and that she was braver than most, and yet when the nerve agent had been thrown at them, she had merely stood there. Jarrod had saved her life.

  And now, here he was seeking justice for a child he didn’t even know, and soon he would be whisking them away to some unknown place where they would be out of the killer’s sights.

  If she could have willed his return, she would have. Anya fussed. “Hungry, Anta. Hungry.”

  “Okay, sweetie. We will get food soon.”

  “No. No. Now.” She whined, the sound a screechy wail.

  Mindy reached into her purse, fishing around for some kind of snack. At the bottom of her tote was a semi-crushed bag of Goldfish crackers Daniel had given her the last time she had watched Anya.

  Anya, having seen the oily bag, opened and closed her starfish-like hands as her whine turned into desperate grunts.

  “Don’t eat all of them in one sitting,” she said, handing Anya the bag. “When Jarrod gets back we will go get some food. Okay?”

  Anya ignored her, instead she yanked the ziplock bag open, tearing the sides in her rush to get to the few whole Goldfish crackers that remained.

  When Jarrod appeared in the distance she could have sworn the clouds broke and a sunbeam illuminated his presence.

  He didn’t look at her as he walked toward them, surrounded by strangers.

  It always struck her how, in this city of millions, a person could still be all alone. In many ways, the way he looked, completely oblivious to the world around him, was how she often found herself feeling.

  Sure, she had shirttail friends, and friends spread around the globe, but more often than not, she spent her time dealing with emails, invoices, patents and lawyers. And even when she did get the chance to hang with her friends, it was like they had all reached the same place in their careers...the point of no return.

  Looking at Jarrod’s muscular, sinewy arms and perfect V-shaped body, she couldn’t help wondering if she had reached the same place with him, as well. There was no question about her level of attraction to him. It had been months, if not years, since she had felt this kind of burning inside of her when she looked at a man. And perhaps the best part was how much he appreciated that she was a smart, capable and professional woman.

  Which reminded her... She tried to straighten her body and appear not to be in full-blown panic mode. He couldn’t know all that she was feeling. If he did, he’d realize how unstable she felt.

  As he approached she looked for signs that he’d been in a fight, but he appeared unscathed. A wave of relief washed through her, making her realize that it wasn’t just her and Anya’s safety she had be
en concerned with.

  “Did he get arrested? Do we need to go to the station and give a statement or anything?” she asked in a single breath.

  “What?” He looked at her like he was trying to decipher what exactly she had just blurted out.

  “Did you get him?” She tried again, this time more measured.

  His face contorted with anger and disappointment. “He got away, but I got a picture of him.”

  What would a picture do? It seemed utterly worthless. She thought of the old adage “a picture is worth a thousand words.” Right now she could think of at least that many to tell him how disappointed she was that he let the kidnapper slip through his fingers.

  Maybe he wasn’t who she needed in a bodyguard after all.

  “What happened?” She tried to not sound as if she was interrogating him, even though that was exactly what she was doing—or maybe, it was more of an interview for the job he was already doing for her.

  “Whoever this guy is, he knows the city. He definitely used it to his advantage.” Jarrod directed his attention down at Anya. “But don’t worry, my team will track him down. My sister has already sent my brothers after him. By the end of the day I’m sure we’ll know everything from this guy’s cell phone number to the size of his shoes.”

  Though Jarrod seemed self-assured, she didn’t want to point out that they were still trying to figure out exactly who had attacked them. If his siblings were as talented as he was making them out to be, it didn’t seem right that they were still at a loss. Or maybe she was just being cynical.

  “How’s my girl Anya doing?” Jarrod asked, squatting down beside the girl, who was still digging into the bag.

  Anya didn’t bother to look up at him. Instead, she shoved a handful of crackers into her mouth.

  “Are you hungry, sweetheart?” Jarrod asked.

  Anya finally looked up at him and nodded. “Happy Meal?”

  “No way,” Mindy said.

  As they made their way down the city block, it almost felt surreal. Only moments before, they had been chasing down a kidnapper. Now they were going on with their day as though nothing had happened. She couldn’t make sense of her life. It seemed to ebb and flow between danger and safety in a way that made her almost question her sanity. She couldn’t keep going on like this.