by Nina Pierce
“Shut up, bitch.” Jameson spoke through clenched teeth, moving the gun under her chin, pressing deeply into her tender flesh. “She is a feisty one, Ayden. I’m only sorry I didn’t get to sample the goods.” He leaned into her ear. “Did he tell you when he was fucking you that the two of us go way back? Further even than his drug addiction.”
Ayden watched Jameson palm Deirdre’s breast as rage replaced the panic. “Shut up, Jameson, it’s over. You’ll never get out of this one alive.”
“Oh, I take that as a ‘no.’” Jameson continued fondling Deirdre. “Right after his little brother died, he left the DEA for a life on the streets. Succumbed to the same drugs he’d been trying to keep me from selling.” He lifted his head and yelled into the night. “What was it, Scott? Six months? A year before you were clean and reinstated? Imagine my surprise when I figured out who you were.”
The rumble of idling motors filtered through Ayden’s haze of disbelief. He couldn’t shoot Jameson without harming Deirdre, but if he didn’t do something, she’d be dead, anyway.
“Now, I think we’ll just climb right back in the limo and follow my shipment.” Jameson sidestepped around the front fender of the limo. He stopped to let his man shut the computer. Jameson had no intention of selling him the drugs. This was all an elaborate setup to expose him and ruin his career. Now Jameson intended to kill them all. Frustration and fear gnawed at Ayden’s gut, and he had to fight to tamp it down.
“I’ll just take little Deirdre with me.” Jameson’s voice vibrated with the thrill of victory. “You can pick her body up at the mansion. Though shooting her won’t be quite as satisfying as plunging that needle into your little brother’s arm.” Jameson stopped moving.
“You didn’t know that part did you, Scott?” His hacking laugh crawled up Ayden’s spine. “He wasn’t addicted to heroin until I got a hold of him. Oh, you would have been so proud of your baby brother, Ayden. After I forced him to feed you the fictitious drop information, and he knew his life was over, he kept telling me you’d find me. Even as the heroin coursed through him, sucking the life from him, he talked about his big brother—the DEA’s rising star.”
The darkness faded away, and Ayden saw only red. He couldn’t let the bastard get away. But with Deirdre complicating the situation, he wasn’t sure what to do next. He would sacrifice his career before Deirdre.
“I’m here, Jameson. You need any help?’
Jameson turned to the sound of a man’s voice. “Emilio, right on time. We’ll take the limo; you stay here with Anthony and take care of this garbage. Dump everything in the ocean. There’ll be nothing left of their bodies after the fish have had their fill. Be sure to ditch the Jag as well. Meet us back up at the estate”
The man Ayden had seen Deirdre with on Saturday materialized out of the shadows, probably coming from one of the vehicles. He held a gun aimed directly at Ayden’s head.
“Four against two. I think we’re in deep shit,” Ayden mumbled.
Without warning, the limo door swung open, shoving Anthony backwards and pulling Jameson’s attention away from Ayden. Glass shattered as Anthony’s gun discharged, starting off a volley of shots. Shit, there wasn’t supposed to be any shooting.
Ayden pulled off two rounds. His second shot took down the computer guy, silencing his gun. He hoped his first bullet had done some damage to Jameson before the man took cover behind the stretch limousine. Ayden’s feet carried him around the back fender of the car. The night had gone deathly still.
Emilio stood over Mark, the smoke of his gun illuminated in the faint glow of the interior lights slanting through the open backdoor. Blood oozed from the old man’s chest. Emilio looked up at Ayden, his eyes wide.
“That wasn’t in the plan.” Emilio’s voice shook with emotion. “It must have been the first shot from Jameson’s henchman.”
“Deirdre, where’s Deirdre?” Ayden pushed around the stunned man, stepping over Anthony’s dead body. Blood ran from his neck where Emilio’s bullet had penetrated. This thing was a mess. A goddamn mess.
Jameson lay face down. The back of his head was missing where Ayden’s bullet had exited. He rolled Jameson off Deirdre’s lifeless body and saw the entry wound just over the man’s right eye.
Goddamn bastard may have killed her. Fear stung the back of Ayden’s eyes and filled his mouth with sand. Blood, there was so much friggin’ blood. It covered Deirdre’s face, clumped in her hair and ran in streaks across her eyelids and nose. She was so still. Please don’t let her be dead.
“Someone call an ambulance,” Ayden shouted at Ryan as he came around the front of the limo. Ayden fell to his knees on the sandy soil. He couldn’t lose another person he loved.
Training took over. His hands searched for bullet wounds. He leaned over, listening for the sound of breaths as his fingers checked her supple neck for a pulse. She inhaled sharply. Her arms flailed in the air and pushed him away.
“Deirdre, it’s Ayden. Baby, shh. You’re hurt. Lie still.”
“My head, oh, my head.” Deirdre rolled to the side. The rock beneath her hair was covered in her blood. She hadn’t been shot, just knocked unconscious when Jameson pulled her down. The blood on her face must have been Jameson’s. Relief flooded through him.
“Ayden?” Her eyes worked to focus in the murky light. “What the…?” He watched her face contort with confusion, the lines morphing to reveal her concern as the memories of the last few minutes worked themselves into her consciousness. “Ayden, are you all right? Jameson?” Deirdre pushed away from him, her head swiveling in all directions. “Emilio’s here. Watch out, Ayden, he has a gun.”
“Deirdre, he works for our side. He was undercover too.”
“No, not one of your men. I mean my friend, Emilio. I think he sold drugs like Mark. I think he’s one of Jameson’s men.”
“Dee, I’m right here with Mark.” Leaning back, Emilio peeked around the open limo door.
“Mark.” She crawled to her mentor. “Oh, Mark. He’s hurt. Someone get help. We need an ambulance. Emilio, do something.”
“The ambulance is on its way, Dee. There’s nothing more we can do.” Emilio looked at her, tears glistening in his eyes.
Deirdre gently touched Mark’s chest, then cupped his cheek. “Hold on, Mark.”
The liquid bubbled in the old man’s throat as he drew in enough breath to speak. “Did we get the scumbag?”
“Lie still, Mark.” Emilio propped the man’s head and shoulders in his lap. “We got him. Jameson’s dead. He won’t be bringing in any more drugs. We couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I waited for your voice, Emilio.” Mark coughed, and blood trickled out of his mouth.
“Yeah, you did everything we told you.”
“Mark, don’t talk.” Deirdre’s tears fell on Mark’s face. “It’s going to be okay, everything’s going to be okay.”
“Yeah, it is, Deirdre. I’ve done … terrible things in past few months.” Mark wheezed and coughed out the words. “But tonight, I made up … for all sins … tell my wife … I’ll see her soon.” His voice trailed away.
Deirdre lifted her head, crying into the night.
* * * *
“So, the Cutler police dropped all charges against you.” Ayden followed Deirdre out of the bathroom, absently rubbing the towel over his blond curls. He was happy to be seeing himself in the mirror again.
It had been over a month since everything had come together just as he’d hoped at the Jameson estate, everything except Mark Pearson’s death and Deirdre’s sudden appearance. The mission had gone off with textbook precision. His team, working with the Coast Guard, had boarded the delivery boat. His men intercepted the amphibious vehicles and seized the drug shipment. Sixty kilos of heroin would never make it to the streets. There’d been no doubt in his mind that Jameson had been behind the Miami operation or that he would recognize Ayden.
Ayden had counted on it.
“I still don’t understand how Mark g
ot mixed up in all that,” Deirdre said.
Ayden grabbed the end of her towel and spun her to face him as it unwrapped from her beautiful body. “How does anyone make that decision, Deirdre? Drug addiction isn’t a conscious choice; it just happens.” Ayden slanted his mouth over her lips. Her naked body softened in his arms. “Some of us know that better than others.” He pulled her in tighter, lifting his hips to rub his stiff cock against her silken belly. Damn, she made him hard.
“Speaking of drugs…” Her fingers played with his chest hairs. “—I’m not very happy you sent my friend down to Miami.”
“Emilio? They’re going to love him down there. He’s great. No one will suspect he works for the good guys. Jameson didn’t.” Ayden cupped her breast and grazed his thumb over her nipple, enjoying the rush of her breath hot on his chest. “Besides, I needed to get rid of my competition.”
Deirdre laughed. Her hands fluttered between their bodies, sliding down his torso to fondle him. “He wasn’t your competition. Now Rachel, on the other hand…”
He lifted her up and dropped her on the rumpled sheets of the four-poster, covering her body with his. “She’s not competition. You want her to join us in this bed, be my guest. Two on one is every man’s fantasy, babe.”
“Not on your life, Ayden. You’re all mine.” Deirdre massaged his ass, lifting her hips so his erection nestled in the slick heat of her folds. “I’m not sharing you with anyone.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“We may need to dig into that box of toys under my bed again, Ayden. I’m fairly certain we finished the condoms during our last go ’round.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. How would you feel about going without one?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“I love the taste of you.” Deirdre kissed his neck.
“Though I love your sweet lips wrapped around me, babe, it’s not what I meant.” He cupped his hands behind her neck. His thumbs grazed the tender flesh under her chin, and he tilted her face so she would look into his eyes and see everything he wanted to give her. “I know it’s not even two months since we met, but I love you. With all my heart, I love you.”
“I love you too, Ayden. I hear a but in your sentence.”
“But, nothing,” he whispered into her ear, nipping her lobe between his teeth. “My transfer came through to the Bangor office.”
“Oh, Ayden, that’s fantastic. No more long-distance relationship for us.”
“What would you think if we made this one permanent?”
“Like you move in here? Oh, that would be wonderful. There’s plenty of room and…”
He came down hard on her mouth, his tongue plunging in to taste and possess. When he pulled back, her lids hung heavy. “Deirdre, stop talking. I’m asking if you want to make babies with me.”
“Babies?”
“Yeah, we could start before or after our wedding.” In a tender gesture, he laid his forehead on hers. “If you’ll have me.”
She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “Until the end of time, Ayden Scott. Only until the end of time.”
The End
About the Author:
Nina Pierce began writing as a lark when her health forced her retirement from a twenty-year teaching career. As someone who always loved hot stories and happy endings, she sat down to write her first romance in 2005. Her part-time love of words blossomed into a full-time writing career, and she hasn't looked back. Now her characters wake her in the night, clamoring to have their stories told.
A native of Maine, Nina resides in what she affectionately calls “the great white North” with her true love of twenty-four years, their three grown children and a menagerie of pets.
You can keep up with her hottest releases at www.NinaPierce.com or contact her directly at [email protected]
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