Stolen By The Hitman: A Men Of Ruthless Corp Book

by Cole, Jagger

  “I’m sorry, honey.”

  Mags isn’t exactly the “honey” type. I smile thinly. “Thanks.”

  “Seems we’ve got two options though. And both have a pretty quick expiration date.” Her mouth thins. “I looked up this Agent Morales.” Mags shakes her head. “She’s a killer, Rourke. Stone-cold. She’s you if you worked for the Feds and had tits. If she’s on this, she’s on this. It’s a matter of hours, probably less, before she’s got her boys knocking down our door.”

  I swear.

  “So, two options. One, we take this…” she holds up the necklace and the key. “We call my guy, get it sold to the buyer he’s got lined up, and we get the hell out of—”

  “Leaving her with Laura is not an option,” I seethe through clenched teeth. Mags smiles.

  “Figured you’d say that. Well, then there’s option two: do what that bitch Laura said and kill the old bastard.”

  We’re back at another safe house of ours, with Terry hogtied and gagged in the bedroom. I turn to glare at the door he’s behind. The idea of killing him, and then Laura, sounds very, very appealing right now.

  But, it’s not the play here. If there’s one thing Laura has demonstrated so far, it’s that her word isn’t worth shit. She’s liar, she’s got her own agenda here, and I don’t trust her in the slightest bit. When it comes to trusting her with Leah’s life, that drops to zero.

  “We don’t know she’ll honor the deal.”

  Mags frowns. “Yeah, well, I don’t know what else we’ve got on the table.”

  I look down. But then suddenly, it clicks. Mags is right: “we” don’t have anything else on the table. But I do.

  I walk over to the Mags, put my hands on her shoulders, and sigh. “Take the Heiress and the key, go to your guy, get it sold, and then I want you to call this number.” I pass her a card with a realtor’s number on it. “Ask for Chris Talbot, tell them Rourke told you to call, and tell him the deal is a go.”

  She frowns. “What the shit crazy are you talking about, Rourke?”

  “I’m telling you to get the hell out of this fucking game, Mags. He’s a realtor with a property I’ve been looking at back in Kentucky. It’s yours. The money from that fuckin’ necklace will more than cover it and let you live easy-peasy with a sweet tea out on the porch for the rest of your days.”

  She stares at me, her eyes narrowing. “Uh-uh. Don’t even think about pullin’ any hero bullshit—”

  “I promised him!” I hiss, sharply. She blinks, taken aback. I suck in a breath. “Jason,” I say quietly. “I promised him I’d look out for you.”

  “Rourke, you have looked—”

  “Like hell I have,” I growl. “Maggie, I’ve put you in harm’s way. I dragged you into a life of fucking crime.”

  “You think I’ve got a squeaky-clean—”

  “Mags,” I hiss. “This is me fulfilling my promise to Jason. I swore I’d take care of you, and so help me fucking God, I will. The property is yours. But I need you to go, now.”

  She stares at me. “And you?!”

  “I’m not done here.”

  She glares at me. “Rourke—”

  “I’m not joking, Mags. You need to go. Now, before the FBI comes smashing through that door. Or worse, Laura’s people.”

  “Boy, there ain’t no way in hell I’m leaving without you—”

  She freezes when I pull my gun out and point it at her. “Mags, I’m not asking. I’m telling. Go.”

  Her mouth thins. “Well look at you, Mr. Tough Guy.”

  I growl. “Mags, please…”

  “You really like this girl, don’t you?”

  My jaw grits.

  “I mean you really like her.”

  “I’m in love with her,” I growl.

  She looks away and sighs. “Goddamnit, Rourke…”

  “Please, Maggie. Take the fucking necklace and go. Please. For Jason.”

  She purses her lips. “Don’t you dare pull that card.”

  “Fine. Then do it for me.”

  She shakes her head. But slowly, she takes a breath. “On one condition.”

  “What’s that.”

  She glares at me. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare get yourself or that nice girl killed. Understand?”

  I grin. “Deal.”

  Suddenly, she’s hugging me. And I’m hugging her back.

  When I finally get Mags into her car and on the road, I turn and head back to my car. I open the passenger side door and pick up the two pieces of torn business card. When I put them together, I narrow my eyes at the number for Special Agent Kim Morales.

  This is a bad idea. It’s a terrible strategy, and the odds fucking suck. I’ve been to war. I’ve played out a hundred assassinations. I know the risks here. But this one is the only one with a sliver of hope. And no matter the cost, if it saves Leah?

  Well, then that’s the play I’m using. Come hell or high water.

  9

  Rourke

  “Hey, quit shoving me, you fuckin’ Neanderthal!”

  Behind Terry, the door to the elevator opens. I smile, and then I shove his ass in. He swears at me, but I ignore him. I step in after him and push the button to the top floor for the second time tonight.

  Last time I was on this elevator, I had her. I had an angel moaning into my lips. This time, I might very well be walking down death row. It’s a terrible play. But like I said, it’s the only I’ve got that gives Leah a shot at getting through this shit.

  So I’m taking it.

  Essentially, what I’m doing is mixing fire with dynamite, and then dousing the whole thing with gasoline. There’s almost a zero percent chance this doesn’t explode in my face and either kill me or get me thrown into jail. But this is the path. This is the only way.

  The doors slide open. And suddenly, my heart surges. There she is—the girl I love. I smile, and my pulse quickens. Whatever happens here, I had her, just for a second. For a blip in time, I had the peace I’ve been fighting for for my entire life.

  “Well well. You actually delivered.”

  Laura smiles thinly as I shove her father, hands bound behind his back, out of the elevator then step out after. Terry glares at her, seething.

  “You miserable little bitch!” he snaps. “You greedy little cunt—”

  “Yes, lovely to see you as always too, dad,” she drones in a bored tone. She raises her gaze to me and frowns. “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “Well shoot him, Mr. Jenner.”

  My eyes slide to Leah. She pales as I take my gun out. I glance at my watch. Here we go.

  “I’m waiting, Mr. Jenner.”

  Ten seconds.

  Laura sighs heavily. “Now, Rourke, or we have no deal.”

  Five seconds.

  She snarls. “Are you fucking deaf?! Shoot—”

  Right on schedule, the doors smash in, and the FBI charges in, guns out. And predictably, all hell breaks loose.

  Laura’s men are quick. But the FBI is quicker. The agents swarm in, and pretty soon, Laura’s crew is on their knees. Laura herself is screaming shrilly as three FBI agents wrestle her to the ground. And Terry looks like he’s about to blow a gasket. I’m just standing there; hands up, and my gun on the ground since they smashed in. And my eyes are locked onto Leah, with a grin on my face.

  Agent Morales saunters in, looking smugger than a pig in shit.

  “My, my, my!” She sneers. “What have I got here? The pimp,” she nods her chin at Terry. “The pimp’s psycho daughter,” she sneers at Laura. But then she turns her gaze on me. “And a professional hitman to boot!”

  My smile fades. “We had a deal.”

  She smiles. “What deal?”

  I knew the likelihood of this turning on me was almost a hundred percent. But I’ve prepared for that.

  “Fine,” I growl. “Fine, I’m yours.”

  Leah pales. “No!” she screams.

  “But she,” I growl, nodding at Leah. “She goes free.”


  Morales laughs. “Not a chance.”

  “I hear there’s big hunt on underway at the Bureau for the Heiress diamonds.”

  Morales stiffens. “Heard that, did you?”

  “I did. And I’m betting you already know they were in Terry’s possession. Well, they were my payment. I have them.”

  “I’d think real quick about telling me where they are,” she hisses.

  I smile. “Of course. Just as soon as she goes free,” I growl, eyeing Leah.

  Agent Morales glares at me. “Tell me first, then she—”

  “I was born, agent Morales,” I grunt. “But I promise you it wasn’t yesterday.”

  Her mouth thins. “Fine,” she finally grunts.

  I’m not going to tell her. The diamonds are Maggie’s. But when I’m sure Leah is free and clear, it won’t matter.

  “Ms. Hartley goes free,” Morales mutters. “Then you tell me where the Heiress is.”

  “I want that in writing.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Rourke, I’m not playing any—”

  Suddenly, the lights go out. Immediately after, an explosion detonates across the room, and I’m moving, fast. I drop to my knees, grab my gun, and then bolt up. It’s pitch dark, but another explosion rocks the room, illuminating everything. It’s just for a second, but it’s just what I need.

  I shoulder my way through three FBI agents. And suddenly, I’m grabbing Leah. She screams in terror and thrashes at me. But I pull her close and bring my lips to her ears.

  “It’s me! It’s me, darlin’!”

  She sobs as she throws her arms around me.

  Gunfire explodes through the room. I grab Leah and yank her away. It’s pitch fucking black, and I’m blind. But suddenly, a hand grabs my arm. I whirl with a snarl, ready to fight to the death to get out of this, when suddenly…

  “Move your ass, honey!”

  The voice is pure Kentucky moonshine. I grin. Mags.

  She grabs my arm, I grab Leah. And then we’re moving. A gunfight erupts behind us as we crash out of the room into dark hallway. But at least I can see now. And sure enough, there’s Maggie, holding a shotgun, wearing night vision goggles.

  “Let’s move!”

  She hauls down the hallway to a service elevator. When all three of us are inside, she jams the close door button, and we start to drop.

  “What the fuck!?” I yell at her. “Mags, I told you to get the fuck—”

  “You know ‘thank you, Maggie, for saving my ass’ would work a whole lot better,” she snaps. She grunts as she yanks the night vision goggles off. “I’m getting too old for this shit.” She glances at Leah and smirks. “You okay, sweetheart?”

  “Mags,” I growl. “What the fuck are you—”

  “You saved my son’s life, Rourke,” she grunts.

  I shake my head. “I didn’t—”

  “A dozen times before that night,” she hisses. “And that night wasn’t your fault. This is me saving your ass now. If you think I’m running off to the country to sip tea on a porch while you get shot up, you’re outta your goddamn mind.”

  My jaw clenches. “We’re gonna have to run.”

  “Yeah,” she grins. “But with style.” Maggie holds up the Heiress choker and the key, and winks. “I’m skippin’ that house in Kentucky. But I did call my guy. His buyer is very motivated, and just offered a ten percent bump for an immediate sale.” She shrugs. “How’s Vietnam sound to you?”

  My brow furrows. “Like a nice place with a pretty sweet non-extradition stance with the US.”

  She winks. “Exactly my thinking.”

  I turn to Leah and pull her into my arms. She bites her lip before I lean down, and I kiss her with all that I have. When I pull away, her face is red, and my pulse is roaring.

  “You don’t have to do this, you know. You could stay, tell them I forced you at gunpoint—”

  Before I can get another word in, she grabs my collar, yanks me down, and kisses me hard. This time, it’s her that pulls back, nipping at my bottom lip.

  “If you think I’m not coming with you,” she turns to grin at Maggie, then back to me. “Then you’re outta your goddamn mind.”

  I grin as she leans up, grabs me again, and kisses me.

  And it’s all over. I’m done. I’m hers.

  The elevator door opens. But I’m just buzzing as we rush out and into the waiting van. Maggie drives us to her broker, who’s waiting with the cash and some ID’s she’s had him whip up. Then it’s off to the private airfield, then Vietnam, then the rest of our lives.

  Epilogue

  Rourke

  Vietnam, Three Weeks Later

  The sand is hot as hell under my toes. But the beer in my hand is cold, and the view is perfection.

  Rogue sighs into the phone. “So, that’s it, then?”

  I nod. “That’s it.”

  “Don’t tell me where you are, but, you’re good, right?”

  I grin. “I’m good, man.”

  My now-former boss chuckles. “Rourke Jenner, actually out of the game. Well hell, man, I’m proud of you.”

  “Rogue, I owe you—”

  “You don’t.”

  I frown. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Well consider me thanked.”

  “Listen, I’m gonna send you your cut of the—”

  “Bullshit.”

  I frown. “No, I am. You got fucked with Laura going to jail before she could wire you.”

  He chuckles. “No, I mean the hell you are. You don’t owe me, Rourke. You don’t owe anyone. Go live your life, man.”

  “Rogue—”

  “I’m not telling you again. Don’t you send me a cent, brother.”

  I smile and nod. “Fine.”

  “Hey, one last question.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Is she worth it?”

  I turn to look at Leah, laid out in a bikini, sunning by the pool of our new sea-side villa. Bought and paid for, all cash. About a mile down the beach is Maggie’s place, complete with the brand new southern-style porch she’s had put in, and the shine distillery puffing away in her garage. We’re actually going over there tonight for dinner and to sample the new batch.

  Leah looks up. She grins when she sees me looking at her and pulls her shades off. She blows me a kiss and mouths “I love you.” I mouth it back. When this call is over, I plan on mouthing those words directly between her legs after I yank that bikini off.

  “Rourke?”

  “Yeah, man,” I grunt with a grin. “Yeah, she’s worth it all.”

  He chuckles. “Good man. Well, I guess I’ll catch you around the sun, Rourke.”

  “Be good, Rogue.”

  “You know it. Take care of yourself, and that girl.”

  And I plan on doing that, for the rest of my life. I toss the phone aside, and I head over to the love of my life. My angel. My saving grace. And when my lips press to hers and she sinks into my arms, I know this is exactly where I’ll be: forever, with her.

  Looking for more from Rourke and Leah? Sign up for my newsletter and read a steamy extra scene! This isn’t an epilogue or continuation to Stolen By The Hitman. But this extra hot “follow-up” story is guaranteed to fog up your Kindle! You’ll also get a free full-length book when you join!

  * * *

  Get the extra scene!

  Men of Ruthless Corp

  Hungry for more Men of Ruthless? Stolen By The Hitman is its own standalone story. But you can binge on way more dangerous alpha hitmen from some of your favorite authors right here.

  Also by Jagger Cole

  Bratva’s Claim:

  Paying The Bratva’s Debt

  The Bratva’s Stolen Bride

  Hunted By The Bratva Beast

  His Captive Bratva Princess

  Owned By The Bratva King

  * * *

  Standalones:

  Her Rough Mechanic

  Cherished

  Captivated

  Roping His Br
ide

  Stalker of Mine

  Hungry For Her

  Wrapped Up In Her

  Bosshole

  Grumpaholic

  Be Ours

  * * *

  The Scaliami Crime Family:

  (All standalone books which can be read in any order.)

  The Hitman’s Obsession

  The Boss’s Temptation

  The Bodyguard’s Weakness

  * * *

  Power Series:

  (All standalone books which can be read in any order.)

  Tyrant

  Outlaw

  Warlord

  * * *

  Wants & Needs Duet:

  All He Wants

  Everything He Needs

  * * *

  Forever Always Duet:

  Forever His

  Always Hers

  * * *

  Tuff Built Series:

  Big Deck

  Hard Screw

  About the Author

  A reader first and foremost, Jagger Cole cut his romance writing teeth penning various steamy fan-fiction stories years ago. After deciding to hang up his writing boots, Jagger worked in advertising pretending to be Don Draper. It worked enough to convince a woman way out of his league to marry him, though, which is a total win.

  Now, Dad to two little princesses and King to a Queen, Jagger is thrilled to be back at the keyboard.

  When not writing or reading romance books, he can be found woodworking, enjoying good whiskey, and grilling outside - rain or shine.

  * * *

  You can find all of his books at

  www.jaggercolewrites.com