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Den of Mercenaries

Page 92

by London Miller


  Rifles at the ready, the Wild Bunch moved in.

  Before they were fully inside the hallway, a security guard rounded the corner. His hand was already on his gun, but before he could even think of calling for backup, Tăcut put two in his chest.

  Luna might have felt bad for the man had she not read the file they had on him while deciding on how best to hit this place. Divorced because he liked to put his fists to his wife—or ex-wife, rather—the woman had left before the ink was finally dry.

  No, Luna didn’t feel sorry for him at all.

  Rounding the corner, the Wild Bunch moved in synchronized fashion as they quickly and methodically took out the rest of the guards, but the guards were easy. While they had been slow to return fire, Ariana’s men didn’t hesitate.

  One yelled in Spanish, firing rounds that had shards of glass behind Luna exploding and raining down, but before he could hit any of them, Thanatos took him out.

  “Do you have any fucking idea who you’re stealing from?” one asked once Tăcut had him disarmed and on his knees.

  Tăcut merely cocked his head to the side before removing a pair of zip ties from his pocket and tying the man up.

  Pulling a small receiver from his pocket, Fang hit a button and set the device down, an electronic voice calling over the screaming. “Get on the floor and put your hands over your head. Cooperate, and no one will be harmed.”

  It repeated the message over and over, and one by one, each person inside the store did as the recording instructed as quickly as possible.

  Except for Skorpion, who took his time getting on the floor and couldn’t bother to even look afraid.

  Thanatos and Invictus disappeared into the back while Fang and Tăcut moved around the corner and to the safe in the floor.

  Celt had explained in great detail how to break into one—Luna had even watched him do it once before at a house in the Hills—and despite most of what he’d said having gone over her head, Fang had understood it well enough to replicate his process.

  There was a shout of surprise somewhere in the back, a woman’s startled yell, and then two gunshots.

  Luna’s heart skipped a beat.

  She wasn’t supposed to be here …

  As many times as they had gone over Ariana’s schedule, poring over each and every detail, the one thing they had always noted was that she never came into her store on a Tuesday. It was the day she went shopping and spent a small fortune.

  Of course, they had formed a plan in case she did show up, and Luna wasn’t worried that the plan would fail in any way, but as Thanatos dragged Ariana out to the main floor none too gently, she was reminded that this was the first time she was seeing her sister this close in years.

  Even at the theater, she had been across the room, still a stranger in the crowd of people in attendance, but now as she was forced to her knees right in front of Luna, looking up at her with open hostility, she was no longer a distant memory.

  “You don’t know who you’re messing with!” Ariana spat at her, not seeming bothered in the slightest by the barrel of the rifle Luna had pointed at her face.

  Luna was tempted to answer, so fucking tempted, but she didn’t speak. Soon, though, she would spell it out for her.

  The floor shook as the safe exploded, and Ariana forgot all about being angry as her face morphed into fear. “Leave that—”

  Before she could move an inch, Luna clamped a hand down on her shoulder, forcing her to remain in place.

  There was a box inside, one they knew held everything they had come for.

  Ripping the top off, Fang removed the folders they needed, tucking them all into his vest.

  It was time to leave.

  Lining back up, they started out the back, taking the recorder with them, keeping their guns trained on everyone still on the floor.

  No one dared to move—they didn’t even look up.

  Climbing onto her bike, Luna waited for Fang’s nod before she took off, heading back to the safe house they rented. As she drove, now hearing the distant sirens of approaching police, she glanced down at her own watch.

  It felt like they’d been inside forever, but it had only been a matter of minutes.

  “So help me, if someone doesn’t give me answers, I will have your heads.”

  To say that Carmen wasn’t handling the news of the break-in at Ariana’s diamond boutique well was an understatement, but she had maintained face for a spell, at least until she was told that nothing was stolen.

  At least nothing they had expected to be stolen.

  Kit knew the truth, though. Every jewel and diamond had been left in place, even as their cases were broken and destroyed. Not even the cash in the register had been touched.

  To the LAPD, it would have looked like an attempted robbery and nothing more, and it would to Carmen, as well, at least for a time.

  That was why Kit had made sure Carmen didn’t learn about what happened to Ariana until after she was taken to the police station for questioning.

  Sure, the questioning could have been done at the boutique—that was what protocol usually called for—but Kit had a man in the department who had smoothly talked Ariana into going down to the station for the questioning.

  It was all going according to plan, and Kit should have been enjoying it, but the only thing he could think about was the divorce papers he’d found and the implications behind them.

  Had he read her wrong?

  Had she already made up her mind?

  Kit thought he would go fucking crazy thinking about it.

  “Nix!” Carmen snapped, glaring at him as she realized he wasn’t listening.

  “I’m not sure what you want me to say,” Kit returned. “Nothing was stolen from the boutique.”

  “Then what the hell is this all about?” she demanded, throwing her hands up as she paced a hole into the carpet. “If not for the jewels, then what?”

  “I’m not sure,” Kit said, playing the game. “What could your daughter possess that an organized team would want? Nothing about the business, surely. You couldn’t possibly be that stupid to entrust anything to that daughter of yours.”

  Carmen looked infuriated for a moment, at least until she gave what he was saying some thought. And right before his eyes, he saw the moment when she realized what had been taken. With that knowledge, her mood soured further.

  Kit held a glass of brandy in one hand as he regarded the woman he had come to loathe entirely. “What was it? What did they take?”

  Carmen opened her mouth to answer him, but before she spoke a word, she glanced around at the men who stood silently in the room then motioned at the door. “Leave us.”

  Kit watched, unbothered, as they all ventured out. “Go on, then. What are you hiding?”

  “No one could possibly know—”

  “Let’s skip the dramatics, and you tell me what I want to know.”

  Carmen ground her teeth together but withheld what she wanted to say and told him what he needed to know. “I needed information on my suppliers. I didn’t like the idea of them having more information on me than I had on them.”

  “What do you have?”

  “Shipping routes, their money launderers, and a few of the buildings they use down the coast. Just a few incriminating details, but no one knew I ever looked into them.”

  “Not quite true, though, is it?” Kit said, tipping his glass to his lips to hide his smile. “Someone had to know what you were doing.”

  He wouldn’t bother to mention that that someone was him.

  Carmen looked worried for a moment before she gave a harsh shake of her head. “It doesn’t matter. There was not enough information in there to give the thieves anything of value.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Kit said dryly.

  “Enough of that. What do the law enforcement know?”

  “There are no answers presently, but I’m sure the LAPD will have them soon enough.”

  That earned a scowl from her, which was w
arranted. While there were plenty of good cops, the LAPD were wildly incompetent compared to what Kit could find in half the time.

  “Where is my daughter?” Carmen demanded, calling her security back in.

  She looked at her head of security, waiting for him to answer a question he hadn’t known she had asked.

  “Well! Where is she?”

  He quickly got the idea, but he didn’t have the answers. His mouth fell open, the answer escaping him—the man didn’t move until he was told, so how Carmen could have thought he would have any answers was beyond Kit.

  “She’s at the police station,” Kit said, sparing the man any further embarrassment. “I’m sure once they’re finished with her, we’ll know.”

  Carmen narrowed her eyes at him, her frustration mounting. “And why aren’t you there? The only thing you seem good for is sitting around doing nothing.”

  Kit arched a brow. “I fail to see why I would need to be there. I abhor police stations, and I’d make a horrible lawyer.”

  “You would be there because I say you should. You work for me. It’s clear that you need to be reminded of your place.”

  “Let’s be honest, yes? I worked for your husband, and seeing as you’ve gotten rid of him, I now work for Elias, but this didn’t need to be said. You’re not daft, despite the way you look.”

  Surprise flashed across every face in the room, but Carmen’s was the first to turn to anger.

  No one talked back to her.

  Most had been too afraid of angering her husband to ever speak out of turn, but now that he was gone, most were worried that in a fit of rage, she would have them killed just because she was in the mood.

  Kit hated fucking tyrants.

  His response rendered her mute and her surprise at his audacity was blatant on her face, but once she processed it, she stomped over to him, raising her hand as though she meant to strike him.

  But before the palm of her hand could make contact with his cheek, however, Kit grabbed her wrist inches before she connected, still holding his drink in the other hand.

  Keeping his hold on her, he set his glass down and got to his feet. He had played the dutiful soldier, making sure to bend to her every whim for over a year so that she never questioned what he did, but now—now, he was done playing the game.

  “You’ll be wise to keep your hands to yourself,” he warned her, squeezing the delicate bones in her wrist until she winced.

  She attempted to snatch her arm back, but he held fast, keeping her exactly where he wanted.

  “Is that understood?”

  Reluctantly, and though her eyes screamed murder, she gave the slightest of nods. Satisfied, he finally released her.

  Carmen stepped back, never taking her eyes off him, but she didn’t speak another word as she spun around and left the room, her security following behind.

  “Are you sure that was a good idea?” Aidra asked, looking from him to the door Carmen had just walked out of.

  “It doesn’t matter, does it?” Kit said, sounding resigned. “It’s all about to end very soon.”

  Aidra made a sound in the back of her throat.

  “Spit it out.”

  She frowned at his tone. “A bit in a mood, aren’t we?”

  Kit poured himself another drink. “Perhaps.”

  “Would you like to share, or should I leave you to it? You’re exhausting when you’re in one of your moods.”

  “Luna had divorce papers.”

  If he expected surprise or pity from Aidra, he didn’t get any. “What part of ‘I’m leaving you, and I never want to see you again,’ did you not understand? I would be more surprised if she didn’t have any, then what would all of this have been for?”

  “This may come as a surprise for you, but your answer isn’t helpful.”

  “May not have been what you wanted to hear, but it’s the truth all the same.”

  Kit sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “This has all grown tiresome. I much preferred the way the Lotus Society handled things. It’s never this drawn out. We had a target, we neutralized it, and we went home. I think I lack the patience for this.”

  Plucking the glass from his hand, she took a sip of his drink before screwing her nose up at the taste. “It’s not about how fast you get the job done, rather the endgame that you need to concentrate on.”

  Kit smiled absently, vaguely remembering having told her something similar years prior. “And what is my endgame, Aidra?”

  “Luna, obviously. Everyone has their reasons on this, but yours is simply getting your wife back. Which is terribly romantic—it’s almost like an elaborate form of courting.”

  Kit laughed. “Is that what you think? I can’t get back something I’ve already lost, Aidra. You know this.”

  She passed his drink back. “Despite how big and bad you think you are, Nix, Luna isn’t afraid of you. If she really wanted to divorce you, wouldn’t she have done it by now?”

  “I saw the papers,” he reminded her.

  “And her signature?”

  Kit fell silent.

  “She had to have signed them, no? For you to be acting like your world is ending.”

  “Whether she signed them is immaterial.”

  “D’you see what I mean? Exhausting. Nothing I say will convince you, so I’m not sure why you’re asking my opinion. Why don’t you just go talk to Luna?”

  “Now isn’t—”

  “Now isn’t a good time? Is that what you’re about to say? Because I’m sure that you—master assassin, and brother of the man who’s notorious for moving without being seen—can manage to have a private moment with your wife without anyone noticing.”

  She patted his knee, as though she had been the one to teach him rather than the other way around.

  “Thank you for your input.”

  She waved his words away. “I live to serve.”

  “What would I do without you, Aidra?” Kit asked, genuinely.

  “You’d crash and burn, Nix. Now, I need to go check in with Fang and the boys. I’ll make sure you have an update before tomorrow’s events.”

  Aidra was off then, leaving Kit to look after her until the door clicked shut and he was alone once more.

  He wouldn’t have much time, to get her away from California, to spend time alone so that he could get the answers he sought.

  Elias had eyes on him, but with Carmen probably having him doing her bidding at the moment, he would have enough time to slip away without him noticing.

  First, he had a few calls to make.

  Chapter 10

  This time, when she arrived home and felt the presence in the bungalow, she wasn’t nearly as surprised by Kit being there like she had been the last time. But while she had felt an almost electrical current beneath her skin then, she only felt fear now.

  She wanted nothing more than to know what he had come to say, but she was afraid she wouldn’t like whatever it was.

  Dropping her bag by the door, Luna could hardly breathe as Kit walked out of the kitchen and over to her.

  He practically lived in a three-piece suit, she had even seen him wear one on the sandy shores of a beach in Bora Bora, but tonight he had opted for jeans and a gray T-shirt that did wonderful things for his eyes.

  Seeing him now, he looked younger almost.

  He was close enough now that if she reached out, she could touch him, graze the soft material of his shirt, press closer until she could feel his warmth.

  “Do you want to know how the job went?” Luna asked. “Is that why you’re here?”

  Kit didn’t respond, not right away. His eyes just scanned over her face for several heartbeats before he asked, “Would you take a drive with me?”

  How could she ever say no?

  He didn’t tuck her hand in his as he would usually do nor did he put his hand on the small of her back as he led her back out of the house. The distance between them had never seemed greater.

  Neither spoke another word, even aft
er climbing into his Bugatti and taking off.

  Besides the low purr of the engine and the wind whipping outside the windows, they rode in silence.

  A jet was waiting for them on the airstrip they rode into, the interior lights shining out of the many windows.

  Though he still didn’t touch her, Kit did come around to open her door, and this time walked behind her as they boarded the plane. He paused to pass an envelope to the pilot, and to have a short conversation.

  Luna took one of the seats by the window, snapping on her seat belt, refusing to watch Kit as he did the same. She was beginning to suspect they weren’t going to talk at all until the seat belt light turned off, and Kit was gesturing for her to follow him into the bedroom in the rear of the jet.

  She stayed by the door, expecting him to go onto the bed, but he didn’t, merely closed the door and remained by her side.

  This was always the part she hated. When he studied her without saying anything, and every twitch she made was analyzed and dissected.

  “Do you want to tell me where you’re taking me?” Luna asked, needing to break the silence.

  “D’you want a divorce?” he shot back, his voice just as emotionless as hers.

  Her gaze jerked up from where it was resting on the strong column of his throat to meet his eyes. “Kit—”

  “It’s a simple question,” he said.

  “It’s never been simple.”

  “D’you want a divorce? Yes or no?”

  Luna folded her arms across her chest. “Are you going to spank me again if you don’t like my answer?”

  Despite her question, he remained unaffected. “I’m tempted.”

  “That’s not how this is going to work.”

  “Then answer my question.”

  Luna licked her lips, glancing away. “Not anymore. I did at one point, but not anymore.”

  That answer was enough to drain some of the tension out of him, but not all. “I’d give you anything you asked for, but never that.”

  She laughed without humor. “It still amazes me that you think you have any control over me.”

 

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