Her Assassin For Hire

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Her Assassin For Hire Page 7

by Danica Winters


  He was going to have to prove that he was someone she could trust. Even if it took him his whole life, he would prove to her that he wasn’t the man she thought she knew.

  Jarrod looked at him, waiting for him to answer for the dead man in Zoey’s trunk.

  “What can I say, the dude picked the wrong woman to come after.” Eli smirked as he gave an appreciative nod in Zoey’s direction.

  “Do you think this is going to be a continuing problem?” Jarrod asked. He was always the one taking charge.

  Eli nodded. “Unfortunately, I think it’s possible. I believe he was working some of the same angles as I was, scoping out places your family would be tempted to go. After hearing whispers about you guys getting into large-scale gun manufacturing in Sweden, I narrowed it down to just a few places you would likely make a public appearance.”

  Zoey opened her mouth like she was going to speak, but quickly closed it.

  “If I can figure out your family’s possible movements, then others will, as well.”

  Zoey stormed off toward the door, grabbing her purse. “We have to get out of here.” She looked to Trevor and Jarrod. “Where are Mindy and Sabrina?”

  “They haven’t gotten back from their trip to H&K. And they have Anya with them.” Trevor took out his phone and tapped on the screen like he was hoping to hear from his fiancée at any moment.

  “When do they touch down?” Eli asked.

  Trevor looked up from his phone. “They’re supposed to be arriving into Missoula at about five thirty tomorrow. They are leaving Stockholm this afternoon. Coming through London.”

  Eli nodded. “Tell them to stay in place.”

  “Have they seen Chad?” Zoey sounded like a frantic mother.

  Jarrod scowled. The unspoken tension between Jarrod and his sister was nearly palpable.

  Eli wasn’t sure what the source of mixed feelings was between them, but he knew well enough to let it alone. The Martin crew was a special breed—loyal to the death, but often found nipping at each other’s ankles.

  On more than one occasion, when he had first taken the job with their team, he had found himself at the center of one of their feuds. Zoey and Jarrod had been discussing which scope covers to buy and use for their growing team. Their discussion had quickly turned into a near yelling match. The only reason it hadn’t was that Trish had stepped in and acted as their ballast.

  It struck him that perhaps that was what was going on; the Martin equilibrium was thrown off due to Trish’s death.

  “No one has spoken to Chad in three days.” Trevor’s face pinched.

  Even for a Martin outsider that was concerning. “That was when the contract went live,” Eli said. “The good news is that the contract is still active. As of now, he is still considered to be alive.” He tried to sound hopeful though everyone in that room knew just as well as he did that sometimes it took several weeks for a contract to be taken down after being completed.

  “We need to find him,” Jarrod said.

  Zoey gave him an irritated look. “Thanks for joining the party.”

  Jarrod ignored her. “Did you check his credit card activity yet?”

  Zoey opened and then closed her mouth. She shook her head. “I was hoping to hear that one of you had spoken to him.”

  She looked a bit crestfallen that Jarrod had gotten the better of her.

  “You take care of looking into his paper trail and Trevor and I will take care of your friend out in the trunk and his Chevy.” Jarrod strode to the door as he worked away on his phone, likely calling in their disposal team. “We’ll take your car. If you need to go anywhere you’ll have to make amends with Eli.” Jarrod gave him a sly grin.

  He had always gotten along well with Jarrod, which had sometimes irritated Zoey when they didn’t see eye to eye, but the brother’s attempt to help further their reconciliation surprised him. It made him wonder if Jarrod knew something he didn’t. Perhaps he advocated their getting back together...or perhaps he just liked having an extra set of hands around in this emergency.

  Or maybe he didn’t trust him and the best way to keep tabs on him was by keeping him at heel.

  He liked his first thought the best.

  As the brothers left him alone with Zoey, there was a long moment before either of them spoke. When she sighed, he was afraid she was about to let him have it. He certainly deserved it. Instead, she surprised him. “Sorry about that display with Jarrod. Some things never change.”

  And from what he saw, things had only gotten worse.

  “You’re fine. You know how things are with my family. I’m in no place to judge.”

  “You still don’t speak to them?” The look in her eyes moved a click closer to pity.

  “No.” He shouldn’t have brought his family up. They, and the nonsense they brought with them, was one topic he would rather leave buried in the past. “And what Jarrod said about amends, don’t worry about it. Whatever you’re feeling toward me, it’s justified. I should’ve let you in on the truth from the very beginning, I just didn’t know how to go about it. With everything that happened between us, I just wanted to get everything right.”

  She dropped her purse to the floor and walked over to him. Putting her hands on his face, she looked him in the eyes. “I’m the one who should say sorry. I know I can be hard to put up with, and I can get things so wrong sometimes—especially when it comes to relationships.”

  Her fingers were warm on his cheeks, and she ran her thumbs over the stubble that had accumulated over the last day.

  “I shouldn’t have just left you,” she said. “I just didn’t know where I wanted things to go with us. We were getting so close to having our own family. I guess it scared me. And then when...”

  “We lost the baby...” The words threatened to choke him as he finished her sentence. “It hurt me just as much as it hurt you. I hope you know that I’ve thought of you every day we were apart. And I don’t expect us to get to the place we were ever again, but I’m hoping we can be friends.”

  “Is that why you’re really here?” Her hands moved to his shoulders and then drifted down his arms.

  It was one of the many reasons, and though he wanted to tell her he had spent almost every waking hour dreaming of her and what the future could have been, he said nothing. It took Zoey so much to open up to him that he didn’t want to make this about himself. She was the one who really mattered.

  He leaned in to kiss her, the movement instinctual. Just before their lips met, he realized what he was doing, and turned his face so his lips brushed against her cheek. He let them rest there for a second too long, as he took in a long breath of her.

  She stepped back, but her hand drifted into his and she squeezed his fingers. “I’m glad you’re back, Eli. And I think you’re right... I don’t think we’re ever going to get to the same place again. I was never meant to have children.”

  There was a finality in her words, and they tore at his heart.

  She let go of his hand, moved across the room and grabbed her computer out of her bag. She clicked it on.

  After about an hour of them working side-by-side, he excused himself and went to get two fresh cups of coffee as she continued to work. Her brothers, and the car in the driveway, were gone.

  As he moved around the house, he couldn’t deny that this place somehow felt like home, though he had never been here before. Perhaps it was just that she was here.

  He took a sip of his coffee as he stood in front of the bay windows and stared outside. He could live here, surrounded by the wilderness and watching the snow as it drifted down from the sky. There was no traffic, no crowds, no dust storms on the horizon, and no sand wedged into every crevice of his body. If there had been a crackling fire in the fireplace, it could’ve been the quintessential Montana dream.

  There was a creak in the floorboard behind him
, and as he turned there was the blur of an object coming at his head. He dropped down, dodging the impact. The coffee cups he had been holding shattered as he let them fall from his grip. Hot coffee spread across the floor and splattered upon his hands, but he didn’t feel any pain.

  A man lunged toward him, a shotgun in his hands. He racked a shell into the gun’s chamber with a loud metallic crack. Eli couldn’t make out the man’s features, but he looked to be about six foot five and pushing three bills.

  It was a wonder the man had tried to be stealthy by swinging the gun instead of shooting him. Eli had been lucky.

  The giant aimed from his hip as his finger moved to the trigger. Eli threw himself toward the couch. He rolled behind it as the gun boomed and a spray of BBs hit the corner where he had just been. Tufts of the cushions flew up into the air, making it look as though snow was falling inside of the room.

  Eli reached behind his back, looking for his Glock. His fingers wrapped around the gun’s handle and he pulled it from his holster. There was already a round in the chamber. All he had to do was get a bead on this dude without getting hit.

  He thought of Zoey upstairs. What if there were more than one hit man this time? Even if not, Zoey would be rushing down here at the sound of the gun’s blast. He needed to make quick work of this guy to make sure she didn’t find herself in harm’s way. He had to protect her.

  He belly crawled to the edge of the couch where a round had just struck. The man’s footsteps pounded against the wood floor as he rushed toward him and racked another round into the chamber. The giant had only two more shots before the magazine was empty.

  Eli took a breath as he rolled around the corner and took aim at the man’s center mass. He pulled the trigger. The shot rang out and struck true. The giant stepped back, shock on his face as his left hand dropped from his shotgun and he looked down at his chest. Blood seeped through his gray T-shirt.

  “What in the hell?” the man said, like he was surprised any bullet had ever found him.

  Eli fired again, hoping this time to bring the man to the ground and eliminate the threat. The bullet struck millimeters to the left of his original shot.

  The giant took another step, obscenities streaming from his mouth like a spray of spittle.

  He still didn’t fall to his knees. The man raised his shotgun. Eli dodged behind the couch again, hoping this time he would still have enough cushion to provide cover. The giant fired off another shot in Eli’s direction. A BB struck Eli’s shoulder, embedding in his skin. He touched the spot—it was already bleeding.

  The couch was one piss-poor excuse for a barricade, and it wouldn’t withstand another shot. He held no doubt that the man had another firearm with him, probably something very similar to his own.

  He crawled toward the other corner, hoping against all hope that he would get there in time enough to surprise his attacker and go for the one shot he knew would take the man down.

  As he neared the far corner of the couch, he moved to round it as he was met with the sound of the man racking a round into the chamber. It was now or never—he lunged his body around the corner and took aim, the motion instinctual.

  The giant pulled the trigger of the shotgun as Eli’s round ripped through him. The shotgun’s recoil went unchecked by the man’s strength, sending the BBs astray and just above Eli’s head, barely missing him and striking the wall behind him with a cascade of dull thuds.

  The man crumpled and collapsed onto the ground.

  Eli got up. Standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at them with a gun in her shaking hands, was Zoey.

  He motioned for her to stay put as he moved closer to the man, keeping a bead on him in case he wasn’t dead. Yet, as he drew nearer, he could make out the round edge of a bullet wound between the guy’s eyes.

  There was the sound of a gun hitting the floor as Zoey rushed down the stairs, straight to him. “Are you okay?” she asked, looking him over. “You’re bleeding. Do you need to go to the hospital?”

  He glanced down to the blood spot at his shoulder. “It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.”

  He shoved his gun back into its holster. Zoey stepped over and looked at the dead man lying in the middle of her family’s living room.

  She was the one who wasn’t okay. None of her family was going to be okay. They had to act. Fast.

  This was no longer a game of rekindling old flames; it had swiftly become a battle of kill or be killed.

  Chapter Nine

  Zoey’s hands trembled as the adrenaline worked its way out of her system. The residue of fear mixed with the elixir of relief made a sickening sense of nausea rise up from her core. She had nearly pulled the trigger. In fact, it could have been her bullet that had ripped through his skull.

  Blood pooled on her mother and father’s Oriental rug. It had been in the family for years and now it was destroyed. The cranberry-colored liquid seeped into the ochre strands as the reality of what she had almost done crept deeper into her core.

  She could have been a murderer.

  “We have to get out of here,” Eli said. “My truck is just down the road. We can go anywhere you want, but you can’t stay in this house until this thing with Chad is under control.”

  Though she heard the words coming out of Eli’s mouth, she couldn’t process them. It was as if he was talking to her through a tin can, the sound ringing and otherworldly.

  Her finger twitched as she stared at the man on the floor.

  All she had thought about was that if she didn’t pull the trigger Eli was going to die and he would be gone from her life forever.

  And yet, she had failed to be brave enough to take the shot. The world started to spin.

  Eli moved closer to her, wrapping her in his arms as though he could sense she was about to go down.

  “You’re okay. It’s going to be okay,” he said, moving her toward the nearly destroyed couch and making her sit down.

  This couch had been all that stood between him and death.

  What if she had come downstairs instead of Eli? In the barn, Eli was the only reason that she had even survived. In a sense, he had saved her twice.

  It was like they were back in a war zone, except this was the place her family had intended on making their home. Now, BBs were lodged in the couch and there was blood spatter on the wall behind the attacker. Her home had become a death zone.

  “Just breathe,” Eli said as another wave of light-headedness came over her.

  Her hands were still trembling in her lap and she was shaking her legs, restless.

  It was okay. Everything was going to be fine.

  Eli was right. She couldn’t deal with the emotions that came with what had just happened. She had to keep moving. If they fell under attack once again, the odds might not play out in their favor.

  They had to get the hell out of this shooting gallery.

  She stood up. Her knees were weak and threatened to buckle beneath her, but she summoned as much strength as she could to take a step. As she moved, it reminded her of the day she lost the baby, leaving them alone in the world. Here she was again, her world threatening to collapse. The only thing she could do was find the courage to keep moving forward, just as she had done before.

  Thankfully, Eli was here. This time, she had to stay. She couldn’t just walk out and deal with this on her own as she had done before. Though things would be different between them, and they weren’t likely to find their way back into a serious relationship, that didn’t mean they couldn’t be each other’s greatest ally.

  It took them only a few minutes for her to grab her go-bag and bug out, leaving the dead guy on the floor. No one would find him. She called her brothers as they walked down the road to Eli’s truck. Being in killers’ crosshairs was proving to be much harder than she had ever assumed. If things ever got back to normal, she would never complain abo
ut sitting behind a computer again. She would take carpal tunnel over a bullet any day.

  Trevor answered his phone on the second ring. “It’s done,” he said, not waiting for her to speak.

  “There’s more trash to take out. I left it in the living room for you.” Her footsteps crunched in the fresh snow as she walked to the passenger side of Eli’s Dodge pickup. “I recommend leaving it there for now. It’s too hot in the house for any of us.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line as Trevor must have been deciphering her code. Now more than ever, it seemed that everything in their lives was coming under scrutiny. Nothing they did or said over open communication lines was safe. They were being monitored.

  “Understood.”

  “We need to enact COBRA,” she said, using the code word for going underground. All their cell phones would be destroyed, along with any other forms of communication technology that could be tracked back to them.

  In a sense, they would all be going dark. It was likely what Chad had done and why he had been so impossible to pin down—if he were still alive.

  It was what they had all been trained to do in an event like this—stay low, seek shelter.

  Unfortunately, with their house no longer available, there were no safe zones. Thankfully, they had protocol for this type of event. Each of them had bags stashed in various locations with devices with state-of-the-art encryption—she had taken care of all the phones and tablets herself.

  She grabbed her go-bag and rifled through it. It had everything she needed to get away. As it was, however, they wouldn’t have access to their regular email accounts—they were already known and the information within them lay in the hands of their hunters. And, if they accessed their accounts through their new phones, it would be only a few hours before their locations would once again be known.

  They would have to be extremely careful. There were nearly a million ways they could be tracked down if any one of them accidently clicked on the wrong button.

 

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