by Shady Grace
At that moment a shot cracked behind him.
Jamie gasped as her attacker spun around and shouted at somebody in Spanish, although she didn’t understand any of it. While his attention was averted, Jamie backed up farther into the alley, terrified that whoever was pulling the trigger out there would come for her next. Maybe an entire gang was after her. Why did she let Monty convince her to do this? He was the only one who would miss her if she was killed. She was completely alone now, and she had no way of reaching out to Jack for help.
No amount of money was worth losing her life over.
She heard a scuffle and another shot. Her attacker jumped back with fear in his eyes. He lifted his hands in defeat, begging for his life. Jamie stood there, frozen to the spot, as another man stepped out into the light, walked right up to her attacker and shot him in the face at point-blank range.
Jamie’s breath hitched in her throat. Her ears rung hard as heat crept up her neck. She faltered on her heels and pressed her hand against the wall for balance, but it was too late. Her knees buckled and she slunk to the ground. The last thing she saw was the gunman walking into the alley, shrouded in shadow.
He was coming straight for her.
Chapter 7
Sam hoped his eyes were deceiving him as he had waited inside the café to watch over the exchange. But he knew better. When he saw Jamie approach the table, wearing a red dress and red sandals as instructed, at first he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Red was a common color. It looked fantastic on her. But when she removed the book that was tucked under her arm and set it on the table, anger and betrayal superseded his disappointment.
He didn’t want her to be the one. He wanted the timing of her vacation to be a coincidence, even if she did happen to have a briefcase.
The innocent woman from up north who happened to accept a free vacation from a friend was the very woman that was blackmailing them. Sam watched her like a hawk stalking a mouse as she took her seat at that table. He watched her every move, every facial expression, every nervous flick of her hair.
She was the coldhearted snake threatening to take Terry away from his children and Gabe away from the only happiness he’d ever had in his life. She had threatened Sam as well. His jaw clenched so hard he thought he’d crack a tooth.
He could’ve walked right up to her, snapped her neck, took the briefcase and left. He could’ve shot her from the rooftop of the building across the street. He could have slipped poison into one of her drinks. But he didn’t. He couldn’t grasp the fact that it was her. Sweet Jamie, so cute and kind, was the bad guy.
Not Jamie. He didn’t want it to be Jamie.
He sipped his coffee in silent resentment as he watched her lose her composure. He had purposely called Gabe and told him to hold off an hour or two, so he could determine if she was with anyone. He sat up straighter and stared hard when he saw her wipe the tears from her eyes. He almost broke his coffee cup when that man approached her and led her away.
A woman who knew what she was doing wouldn’t walk off with just anybody, and the terrified look in her eyes was enough confirmation that something was wrong. Jamie’s reaction was of a confused and desperate woman who was given orders. He knew it like he knew something bad was about to happen to her. Why did she have to make this job so difficult for me? Damn woman.
Sam left the café the moment she and the stranger disappeared into the alley. He quickened his pace when he noticed a second man follow shortly behind. Sam knew Jamie was about to be set up for a robbery, and possibly a rape. A cold sliver of rage and fear made his instincts burst beyond control. It suddenly didn’t matter that she was a part of this blackmailing. He wouldn’t let those men take advantage of her, even knowing that she was taking advantage of him. How could she be so naïve taking off with that man? She had been given explicit, easy instructions to follow for the exchange. He grit his teeth as his anger for her would have to be taken out on those men.
He could make it easy on himself if he just let the guys go after her while he grabbed the briefcase, but he couldn’t. Not now. Not when she’d managed to get under his skin.
Sam took a defensive stance as the second man realized he was being followed, turned around and rushed him, spearing his shoulder and taking him down hard. To Sam’s surprise the small guy was stronger than he thought. They tumbled onto the cobblestones, each one fighting for the upper hand. But a street thug had nothing on a man who lived defying death every day.
He took a punch to the jaw, but it did nothing to stop the rage flashing red in his eyes. Sam grabbed the man’s arm, twisted it behind his back and flipped him beneath him. He straddled his waist, gripped his hair with one hand, and pounded his face five times with the other. When the man could no longer see for the blood pooling into his eyes, and his lips swelled and spurted blood, he released him and stood back up.
He should kill him. He should shoot him in the chest and drag his body into the niche a few feet away, let the rats finish him off. But he was tired. He just wanted this to be over so he could go home and maybe live a normal life. He was done chasing after people, barely sleeping at night, and not knowing who he could trust. In the end, he just kept getting fucked anyway.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Sam growled. He wasn’t getting paid to kill these men, and he didn’t want to waste his time or his bullets any more.
The guy shoved off the ground, ran a few feet away then pulled a handgun from his pocket. Sam shook his head. So much for being generous. As always, he was prepared for the worst and withdrew his Sig Sauer. He didn’t want to kill him, but as the idiot raised his weapon, Sam shot him in the stomach without as much as a blink. The guy dropped his gun and slunk to the ground. A slow death was what he deserved for trying to take advantage of a woman, and for being an idiot.
Sam stood there looking down at him and shook his head. He would’ve let him live. The guy could’ve ran off and did something good with his life. Yet Sam felt no remorse for the choice he had made because the other guy had made his.
The guy tried to say something, but as he opened his bloody mouth, all that came from it was a soft gurgle before his head rolled to the side. Sam had finished caring the moment the guy pulled his gun on him.
As Sam stepped over the man’s body, the first guy who had tricked Jamie shouted something he didn’t understand. His eyes bulged, his face paled, and he swung his arms out in the air, apparently begging for forgiveness. Sam didn’t really care what he said. He wanted to see the fear in his eyes. Wanted to hear him beg. He lifted his hand again, walked right up to him as he pled again for his life, and shot him in the left eyeball. He should’ve shot him in both just for looking at Jamie.
What he hadn’t planned was how he’d explain himself to Jamie once she saw him. But luckily for Sam, she fainted first, hitting her chin hard on the stones. He stood there for a moment, just breathing. In and out. In and out. Contemplating what he should do with her, and with that briefcase.
Sam walked up to her and knelt down, wishing she didn’t have to see that horrible scene, but glad he was able to stop the situation from getting worse. He gently touched her forehead, rubbed the dirt from her beautiful face. She had perfect eyebrows a shade darker than her blond locks, and her skin was so soft with that lush, golden tan. That was his downfall, because he couldn’t stop touching her.
Then his gaze darted to the briefcase. He should take it and run. Everything would be over and he could return home back to what it was, how it’s always been. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t leave her like this. She did something to his heart that felt like indigestion. Was that love? Did love make a man want to puke when he thought he might lose her? He’d touched her, kissed her, made love to her. For that one amazing moment that took him away from everything he was used to, he couldn’t let anyone hurt her, and he couldn’t abandon her.
With his adrenaline still pumping hot, he retrieved the briefcase then bent down to gather Jamie�
�s unconscious body in his arms. He held her close, breathed in the sweet floral scent of her hair, wishing he could be stronger than this. Why did she have to be so alluring?
As he rushed through the streets, she groaned and turned her face into his shirt. Her fingers gripped his arms. Relief flooded through him knowing her injuries didn’t go beyond knocking herself out.
When he returned to the hotel, Sam brought Jamie straight up to his room and set her gently down on his bed. He was careful not to disturb her and slid the coverlet up to her chin. He immediately wetted a cloth in the sink and washed her face with cool water. Despite having a key to her room, he wanted her here, where he knew she was safe from anyone else. She may not be safe from him, but at least nobody else would touch her. That was a small relief at least.
She had a slight scrape on her chin where she’d hit the curb. A bruise had already begun to form on her delicate skin. He pulled out a lounge chair and sat next to the bed and watched her while she slept, at war with what he should do. He wanted to believe that she was innocent in all of this, but he was smart enough to know that women could be fickle creatures that lured men to their demise, all while smiling and laughing and acting like sweet little angels that tasted too good. He groaned aloud and leaned on his elbows, cradling his head in his hands. For the first time on a job, he felt like he had no control. He felt useless.
He contemplated calling Gabe and Terry and explaining the situation. Instinct told him that she may be in trouble. She may not be the woman behind the deal—not after being led into an alley by a street hustler. That whole situation didn’t feel right. Either she was a pawn, or a victim, or she was the deadliest woman he’d ever put his hands on.
Something wasn’t right, and it had nothing to do with his part of the mission. Perhaps she was desperate. He knew how hard it was to cope when you had very little money. Still, he couldn’t assume anything at this point. He couldn’t take any chances as he’d done before in the past. He almost fell in love with Wanda, even though it was his job to play the role of her lover. He had wanted to walk away from it all, but in the end, the lives of his brothers were more important than his needs. And after everything, she had her men drag him to the pigpen. Not a very loving woman. Wanda McCoy, the boss’s second wife, had turned out to be the striking cobra that nearly killed him with her venom. Back then he thought he knew what love was, but now that Jamie blew into his life with a briefcase, he knew he was wrong.
Jamie was different by a long shot. He didn’t think she was trying to trick him. He truly believed she was the one being used, but he couldn’t trust himself to make the right choice either. It wouldn’t be the first time the opposite sex duped him. Perhaps women were designed to hold a choke collar over his kind.
At Sharp Ridge Lodge she’d made him feel like his life could be different. That two people staring out over a moonlit lake had nothing to lose and everything to live for. Everything to hope for. So much to fight for. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he knew nothing at all about women. But she looked stunning in that red dress.
He lifted his head and stared at her again, how her thick lashes fluttered from dreams. She seemed at peace, lying there, as if she was dead. Again, he imagined he could smother her with a pillow right now. He could put his hands on her throat and choke the life from her. It could be that easy.
But it isn’t.
Sam wanted her very much alive, and naked, writhing on the bed beneath him. He wanted to skim his hands down her soft curves and pull her against him. He wanted to run his fingers through her soft golden hair as he did the night before. The wavy tresses felt like silk to his touch. And those eyes. Such a captivating mossy green, they seemed to look right through him. See him. As if she knew the real man within.
She could also be the most sly woman he’d ever met, and that was what prompted his decision. He would coax her, probe her, and do anything necessary to dig up the truth. And he would enjoy every second of it, even if it killed him in the end.
Police sirens shrieked in the distance. While she lay there in the grey void of consciousness, he stepped out onto his balcony and made a few phone calls. He needed to know who she really was, and his contacts would find out every sordid detail about her life within a few hours. Until then, he’d watch her and make damn sure that neither she nor the briefcase left his sight.
Once his calls were complete, he stepped back into the room and paused. His breath hitched, his brow arched, and a slight smile touched his lips as he watched Jamie, so beautiful in that red dress and heels, making his bed. He shook his head. The woman just witnessed a man shot at point-blank range in the face. She fainted from the gruesome sight and now she was concerned about his bedding.
He stared at her curvy ass as she bent over to tuck the top sheet under the corner of the mattress and flip the coverlet back over. It would take a while until her background was called in to him. What would he do with her in the mean time? A spike of arousal made his nostrils flare. His nuts ached for relief and his cock twitched with primal recognition. He could take her just like that, bent over his bed. Skim his hands over those beautiful ass cheeks and glide his cock into that hot, wet heaven.
Against his raging physical needs, he decided to talk to her. “You’re awake.”
Jamie spun around as if somebody had grabbed her shoulders and forced her around. Her eyes were as wide as marbles, her beautiful lips parted in a silent scream. “Shit, you scared m-me.” She stared hard at him, perhaps trying to figure out how she got to his room. “How did…Where—?”
So she didn’t know he killed those men. He breathed a little easier. “I saw you walk into that alley, then I heard the gunshots. I don’t think those men will be bothering you again.” He left it at that.
She nodded, visibly shaking from head to toes. Her face looked so pale it matched the paint on the walls. Her red-rimmed eyes were full of terror. As much as he wanted to tell her that she was safe now, he couldn’t. He still had a job to do, whether he wanted to go through with it or not. Damn this job. Damn this weakness for her!
“Is that what you do when you’re scared—make beds?” He couldn’t help the humor in his tone. Sometimes it amused him to watch the emotional reaction when normal people witnessed death, when it was just another Tuesday for him. Still, he thought he should at least try to lighten the mood and maybe get some answers from her.
“I don’t know what to do with myself.” She plopped down on the edge of the bed and burst into tears.
That part he didn’t know how to deal with. On one hand, he wanted to hold her and comfort her and ease her pain, yet he stood there like a rigid pole not knowing how to stop her crying. Every gut-wrenching sob made his stomach cinch and his knuckles tighten. That hair-raising sound made him feel sad, and useless. He cleared his throat, feeling more than a little awkward. Should he console her? Should he make her feel at ease before he had to kill her?
She held her head in her hands. Her golden hair spilled over her shoulders. “Oh, Jack, I don’t know what I should do. What did I get myself into? This isn’t what I….”
And she didn’t even know his real name. For that he felt like an asshole. He deserved a full bore backhand across the eyeballs for that. Perhaps this insane situation was what they both deserved. Lies. Betrayal. But when they were together in that bed, everything was real.
He eyeballed her, his curiosity piqued by what she didn’t finish saying. Maybe she was about to reveal the truth to why she was here, and who sent her. “I’m not sure what you mean…”
She lifted her face, eyes red and swollen, and for a moment his breath caught because she looked lovely. Sad, scared, and delicate. He swallowed. He wanted to kiss her eyes and make them wet with passion—not sadness.
Something happened in his chest that he didn’t like. Like that time he was waterboarded by a rival hitman in Egypt. He couldn’t breathe now as he couldn’t breathe that day, so long ago. Sam had walked into the apartment to find his
target was already dead. Before he realized his mistake, a sack was thrown over his head from behind, and he was dragged into the room. That was the first and only time he’d been careless. Death was within reach as his lungs fought to control his breath while the water was forced into his mouth. Just when he thought it was over, as his body started to sag in defeat, the door burst open and he heard shouting through the sac over his face.
It was Norman the Norwegian who’d gotten him out of that mess. Apparently three rival hitmen had taken the job, and when the first shooter got the target, he decided to take Sam out at the same time. While Sam and Norman were not exactly friends, they had a mutual understanding and respect for each other. He regretted having to kill Norman in that bathroom like some cheap drug deal gone wrong, but the big Norwegian left him no choice.
Sam had a choice with Jamie. He could kill her and take the briefcase, or he could keep an eye on her and see where this ended. If she wasn’t alone in this, which he suspected, then he needed to get the real villain. Maybe he could help Jamie get through this without getting hurt. But he needed answers.
“You can tell me anything,” he pressed on, his thoughts back to the situation at hand. “You’re safe with me.” Quit lying to her. He grit his teeth. You know what you have to do. He had to force himself to breathe evenly, when all he wanted was to explode and either punch the wall or push himself inside her.
Jamie shook her head, a defeated expression on her face. She shoved up and off the bed. “I can’t do this. This is fucking crazy.” She seemed to be fighting with some inner demon as she bent to grab the briefcase, and Sam realized that if she left his room right now, that would be it. Whatever her role was in this fucked-up situation, if he let her leave and go through with the exchange, then he’d have to kill her. He’d have to kill her.
