But there was no more time to think about it. Carter was fighting for his life and for hers, and she needed to get out there and help if she possibly could. Kat rolled off the bed, shifting her body to put her feet on the floor first. But the cuffs held her limbs, and she found neither balance nor footing, falling instead like a sack of potatoes. It was harder to maneuver than she expected, and she slowly and clumsily inched her way around so that she was facing the bedroom door. From there it was a matter of pushing her way across the floor, the sounds of crashing furniture in the living room telling her that there was no time to waste.
She pushed out to the living room, where Barbara lay dead on the floor, eyes open and staring, her death gaze locked on Kat as she wriggled her way into the living room. Beyond the woman’s corpse, the men were still trading punches near the couch. Hank grabbed a framed photo of Mitchell and smashed it into Carter’s forehead, the glass breaking.
Carter threw a few hard punches to Hank’s gut, finally throwing his adversary. But the man was quick to return, and the two were quickly entangled in a mesh of arms and legs, grasping hands and hard, clenched fists.
Kat strained to follow the action, but from the floor it was hard to see precisely who was punching or kicking or strangling whom. But she did notice the little black stun gun laying on the floor, apparently discarded in the struggle.
The men came into clearer view, both on their feet, Carter delivering a series of hard punches directly at Hank’s battered face. But the man seemed to be laughing with that bloodied mouth, only enraged by the attack and alive with testosterone and adrenaline. He smashed his forehead into Carter’s, Kat’s man’s head snapping back.
Carter managed to spin Hank around, locking his arm around Hank’s neck. He pulled tight, elbow sticking out like some absurd necktie as he pulled Hank back, windpipe no doubt close to being crushed.
She inched her way to the stun gun and worked her way around it so that she could hold it in her hands, still cuffed behind her back. Kat knew the danger, that she’d possibly hold the thing backward, with the electrodes pointing inward and facing her instead of outward, making it a viable weapon. And in the frenzy of the men’s fight, it was hard to concentrate, her fingers frightened as they felt their way around the unfamiliar device.
Hank had a good grip on Carter from behind, Carter reaching back to assault Hank’s face or head, unable to find purchase.
Gotta help, she realized, gotta zap that sick bastard, save Carter, save us both!
She tried to stand up, but with her ankles and wrists cuffed, every effort to stand was fruitless. And each time she fell to the floor, she risked zapping herself with that stun gun, or dropping it.
Ugh, it’s no good; I can’t get up!
But Kat noticed the wall only a few feet away, reasoning that she could push herself up against the wall and then bunnyhop her way toward the grappling men, but whether or not she’d make it in time was still the question.
Hank was close to succumbing to Carter’s sleeper hold, but he stuck his arm out as far as he could extend it, then brought it back in a flash, ramming his elbow into Carter’s gut. It was a good blow but not good enough. Twice more did the trick, and Carter lost his hold on Hank’s neck. Then with a hard lurch forward, Hank managed to flip Carter over his back. The big man came crashing down hard, hitting the coffee table, the sturdy structure crushed beneath him, wood splinters flying. Kat had to clamp her eyes shut and turn away, only a few feet from the men as they grappled on the floor, Hank above and Carter below.
Hank’s hands locked around Carter’s neck again—a rare spot of vulnerability on his massive, muscular frame. Hank was clearly well-practiced in the art of hand-to-hand combat, and it seemed like Carter had met his match.
Kat knew she had to make her move. Confident that the stun gun was facing the right direction, she inched her way toward the two men. With Carter beneath Hank, the danger was that she’d accidentally zap Carter, giving Hank a murderous victory despite her best intentions.
But her world was flipped on its side, nothing was clear and there was no time to think. She pushed her way toward Carter and Hank, cuffs cutting her wrists, legs feeble and useless. Carter was still pinned, his head seeming to quiver under Hank’s strangulating assault. Time was running out and all three of them knew it. It was up to her, the odds were slim, and there were just seconds left.
Chapter 29
Kat
Kat squirmed her way toward the men, gambling on the one shot she’d have at saving Carter’s life and her own. She had to kick away one of the idle coffee-table legs, barely able to make her way to the two men.
There was no way to hit Hank’s arms, so she wriggled her way toward his legs, on the floor as he straddled Carter. But Hank saw her coming and kicked her hard, snapping her head back and rolling her body to the side.
Her brain was ringing, hands almost losing their grip on her secret weapon. But she was focused and determined, ready to fight, knowing there were only seconds left.
But how do I reach him to give him the zap? I can’t stand up!
It seemed hopeless, with Carter seemingly out of commission, and her own life next on the menu—a prize that would be hard won and slow in savoring.
Wait, there is a way!
Kat started rocking her body, momentum throwing her upper body up and then down, feet high and then low as she turned herself into a kind of human see-saw. Once her upper body was high enough, she saw her one and only chance. Her feet sailed up high and threw down fast, her upper body using that energy and rocking upward. She twisted her body hard and leaned sharply to the side, falling onto Hank’s back in her one and only chance.
Kat fell hard onto Hank and pushed the little plastic button. The device was smashed between them and the electric blast pulsed through her body like a storm. Her brain rattled, her limbs jerked against their metal bonds. Her sight went black, her lungs cramped up breathless, ears splitting with a loud trill.
She felt herself roll off Hank’s body and to the hard floor, uncertain of what effect she’d had.
But another heavy weight fell on top of her and quickly rolled off to the side. Her senses were boggled and swimming, but she could hear Carter’s sputtering breath, on her other side, gurgled and coughing. She could feel his hand reaching out to her, and she took it, the two of them ready to face their future together, even if it was only for a few brief seconds.
Epilogue
The stand-up paddle board was steady beneath Kat’s feet, the paddles easy and natural in her hands as she and Carter glided on the cop of Intrepid Bay. The summer was in full bloom, hot and humid, the sea breeze refreshing, bracing. Both had recovered from their altercation with Hank Matthews, who was sitting in a cell waiting his trial.
Kat looked at him, tall and gorgeous, and he looked at her with a smile that told her everything she needed to know about the way he felt, the bond they’d created, the love they shared and would never lose. She giggled playfully and his silent smile responded.
“I don’t suppose we’ll be able to do this on the Seine,” she said.
“Running the French division of Longshadows won’t give us much time. Hey, I like your idea about men kidnapping men; I think there’s a fortune in that.” Kat smiled, glad to have found a way to make the most of her latent talents and business acumen. And to have Carter’s respect meant even more.
It meant everything.
They pushed on, beyond the shadow of the bay’s namesake war machine. “I can’t wait to live in Paris,” she cooed, able to stand, paddle, and chat without the slightest pause. “Leave all this unpleasantness behind us—Hank Matthews and all that.”
“I’m sure Hank Matthews feels the same way,” Carter said. “But we don’t all have the same freedom of choice, do we?”
She shrugged. “We’re not all murderers either. He deserves every minute he gets and I hope he rots in that hellhole.” Carter nodded and they paddled on, the sun burning hot and bright above
them. “I’m so glad Tia came to her senses,” she said, “deciding to join forces instead of creating a lot of pointless conflict.”
“She’s a good businesswoman, and a good judge of character. She always liked you, told me so herself.” Kat smiled with a sense of satisfaction. “And I think Jackie’s gonna be a big hit over there too,” Carter added. “The French’ll go wild for her.”
She nodded, the hot sun warming her salty skin. “She deserves it.”
He looked over at her and smiled, a tender warmth radiating from his masculine face. “So do you.” Kat reached out and took his hand, the two drifting forward effortlessly, enjoined, gazing into each other’s eyes as the Atlantic Ocean lapped and churned in the distance.
“Two of us, working together,” Carter went on, “we’re going to be unstoppable. It’s almost too perfect.”
“Like it was meant to be,” Kat said.
“Yes, exactly! Strange, all those years, I…” But Carter just turned to gaze over the horizon, once more lost in his deepest thoughts.
“Carter?” She said softly.
“I was just thinking about Swift, a passage from Gulliver’s Travels. ‘I enjoyed perfect health of body, and tranquillity of mind; I did not feel the treachery or inconstancy of a friend, nor the injuries of a secret or open enemy. I had no occasion of bribing, flattering, or pimping, to procure the favour of any great man, or of his minion; I wanted no fence against fraud or oppression: here was neither physician to destroy my body, nor lawyer to ruin my fortune; no informer to watch my words and actions, or forge accusations against me for hire: here were no gibers, censurers, backbiters, pickpockets, highwaymen, housebreakers, attorneys, bawds, buffoons, gamesters, politicians, wits, splenetics, tedious talkers, controvertists, ravishers, murderers, robbers, virtuosos; no leaders, or followers, of party and faction; no encouragers to vice, by seducement or examples; no dungeon, axes, gibbets, whipping-posts, or pillories; no cheating shopkeepers or mechanics; no pride, vanity, or affectation; no fops, bullies, drunkards, strolling whores, or poxes; no ranting, lewd, expensive wives; no stupid, proud pedants; no importunate, overbearing, quarrelsome, noisy, roaring, empty, conceited, swearing companions; no scoundrels raised from the dust upon the merit of their vices, or nobility thrown into it on account of their virtues; no lords, fiddlers, judges, or dancing-masters.’”
Kat paddled in a silent pause, letting Carter add, “But you know what else I didn’t have?”
“Love.”
Carter nodded with a long, sad sigh. “All my life I was…I was running from something, running toward something, just running. My family, my work with Longshadows; it was all so…illusory, just a lie: to myself, to the world. I thought I was living honestly, truthfully, the way my family never could. But I wasn’t, not until I met you. Because I wasn’t running, Kathleen, I was searching…searching for you; I just didn’t know it. But my life was empty before you, my love, and without you that’s all it could ever be. If I hadn’t found you, I’d still be running, lost…and alone.”
She smiled, a loving little tear slipping down her cheek. “Neither one of us will ever be alone again.”
Carter’s somber air was pushed back by Kat’s love and by the breeze skipping off the bay: cleansing, bracing, refreshing.
Neither one paid any mind to the white speck out on the horizon, which from much closer had the shape of an eighty-foot yacht. And on that yacht, called Other People’s Money, two twins and their sister watched through binoculars, shaking their heads and sipping champagne. Scheming and and having long conversations about what their next move would be. Neither Kat nor Carter would know their move until it fell upon them. By then, it would be too late.
THE END
Bonus Content: Billionaire Benefactor Daddy
Billionaire Benefactor Daddy
Copyright
Copyright © 2017 by Natalia Banks
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
NOTE: This is a work of fiction, names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real life is coincidental. All characters in the story are 18 years of age or older. Intended reading audience 18+
A room without books is like a body without a soul.
Marcus Tullius Cicero
Prologue
Bam! Bam, bam, bam! The gun shots rang out, sending the massive crowd running in every direction. They heaved in a tide away from the library, but that sheet of terrified humanity tore itself to shreds running for some shelter—any escape.
Bam, bam!
Lorraine Devonshire looked up at Griffin Phoenix; their eyes locked. Both knew that their worst fears had come to life. Some of those bullets had found their mark, digging deep into tender flesh, ripping through organs, pushing the very living breath out of their victim.
Little Ashe Phoenix’s eyes widened with shock, his mouth falling open, the terror of the moment beyond his ability to comprehend. But the three were frozen where they stood, none leaving the other’s side. Sweat broke out over Lorraine’s face, cold even, as a wave of heat passed through her.
Police poured over the area, the innocent and the guilty scattering for their lives. For Lorraine, Griffin, and even for Ashe, it was too late to run; there was nowhere to hide. Lorraine and Griffin looked at one another, silently knowing that the only thing left to say was goodbye.
Chapter 1
ONE WEEK EARLIER
“Shut down the library?” It wasn’t until she said it that Lorraine Devonshire knew how terrible and how serious the problem really was. “Mister Jenkins, you can’t do that!”
Albert Jenkins waddled down the aisle, his big belly nearly glancing against the books on both sides. When he turned to glare at Lorraine, with Carmen Mendez following behind him, Lorraine knew it going to be a long week, and it wasn’t even Monday noon.
“Not my choice,” Albert said, inspiring Carmen to imitate his glare, short-tempered and inflexible. “There’s just not room in the budget.”
Carmen nodded, her own chunky physique much smaller than the moving mountain in front of them. “We’re already down to three days a week, Mr. Jenkins.”
“Then you’re only losing three days, aren’t you?”
Albert walked on, Lorraine and Carmen trailing behind him. Lorraine caught sight of herself and the others in a mirror as they passed; with Albert’s big, dark, round, presence, Carmen’s smaller, mocha self, and Lorraine’s small, pale frame and short red hair, she felt like the scoop of cherry ice cream on the top some strange, moving triple-cone of bureaucracy.
“If I may, Mr. Jenkins,” Lorraine said, Carmen’s glare telling her that she shouldn’t, but both knew it was too late. Lorraine went on, “This is a public library; it’s vital to the community. Children come here to be read to; we provide internet for people who can’t afford it. It’s a meeting place, a center of social interaction—”
Albert looked her over. “Miss Devonshire, I appreciate your position. You went to school, chose this as your profession, now it’s being threatened. Believe me, you have my every sympathy. I won’t have a job much longer either.”
“It’s not just about that,” Lorraine said. “Don’t you remember when you were a kid? You’d come and get these free books, and then read them with such appreciation and gratitude? It made you feel, I dunno, cared for, like the city cared enough about you to—”
“Enough,” Albert barked out, attracting the odd glances of various patrons around the otherwise quiet library. “You think I enjoy this? You think I want to shut the library down? You think I don’t care about the community, the kids? But the reality of the new budgets take the choice out of my hands, Miss Devonshire. There simply isn’t enough money to keep the doors open! Can I be more clear?”
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“No, sir,” Carmen said, shooting little looks at Lorraine to shut her up. “We understand, of course.”
Albert nodded and walked on, Lorraine and Carmen following. “Nothing’s official yet, but you’d both better get your affairs in order.”
Carmen asked, “How long?”
“Three months,” Albert said, “six tops.”
Lorraine couldn’t help be struck with the resemblance their conversation had to a doctor’s terminal diagnosis and a patient’s sad acceptance. Albert Jenkins had just handed the Hadley branch of the Denver Public Library a death sentence.
Three to six months.
After Albert left, Carmen led Lorraine into her private office, closing the door behind them. “What was that, Lorraine?”
“I’m sorry, Carmen, I didn’t mean to speak out of turn, but…they’re gonna shut us down, and you’re just gonna take it?”
“What else can we do? Lorraine, this is government stuff, real political shit, baby. You go along, you get along. So they close this place up, maybe Albert’ll find us something somewhere else.”
Lorraine shook her head, short red hair clinging to her scalp. “He said he’ll be fired too, Carmen; he won’t be any use to anybody. Anyway, that’s no way to live—ass kissing.”
“So you say.”
“And it won’t save the library!” Lorraine exclaimed.
“You got me there,” Carmen said, shaking her head. “Still, you can’t fight City Hall.”
Steal Me (Longshadows Book 1) Page 17
