A Hitman's Kryptonite

by Cage Thompson

She blinked up at him what could be seconds or hours later. “I had no idea that you were so weak,” he tried to joke but it fell flat.

  Her brows drew together as he pressed her back down into the bed when she attempted to sit up. “What happened?” she questioned.

  “You fainted,” he answered, worry line bracketing his lips.

  “I haven’t been eating,” she started.

  “So, Sandy said,” he commented, his voice with an edge about it.

  “I’m not keeping it down either way,” she grumbled.

  “Because you’ve been stressing about an idiot who didn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you!” he snapped.

  “Wyatt,” she admonished.

  “You know that it is the truth,” he hissed and she pressed her lips together to hold back her comment.

  Crew walked into the room with a heavily laden tray and she could feel her stomach roiling.

  “I don’t—”

  “At this point, I am an inch away from sticking an IV needle up your damn arm if you don’t eat something,” he growled.

  She rolled her eyes at his chauvinistic expression before nodding her head in Crew’s direction. “Whatever the master says,” she grumbled. “But after this, I need to be briefed,” she commented.

  His eyes darkened in response. “I hoped that you would’ve forgotten that,” he mentioned.

  “I know,” she replied. “But I have the memory of an elephant.”

  He grunted in response but she knew that she had won this round even if it would be to her own detriment.

  ∆∆∆

  “Master Alexander,” his flight attendant murmured to get his attention.

  Trent looked up from the cell at his longtime friend. “Oscar, how many times—”

  “Do you have to tell me to stop calling you master?” the older man interrupted, knowing the routine by heart. “For as long as I live.”

  Trent rolled his eyes in response.

  “It might not be much longer I might add,” he jested.

  “You’re as fit as a fiddle, Oscar, so I’d rather you not call death onto yourself.”

  “You’re too superstitious for a man who wants to forget his British roots,” Oscar laughed.

  “That’s because you keep reminding me of the title that I wished was buried with my grandfather,” he muttered.

  “Being a duke is nothing to be ashamed of,” Oscar scolded.

  “Let’s not get into this right now,” he sighed.

  Oscar made a sound in the back of his throat before placing the glass before him. “And here is your scotch, sir,” he murmured lavishly. “How’s Master Coleman?” he questioned.

  “Trying to get through this mission,” he sighed.

  “Well, it’s good that he can finally be happy,” he commented.

  Trent looked up at him with a frown. “And pray tell what you know about this case?” he questioned with a raised brow.

  “I might have been peeking over your shoulder while you went through the files,” he answered boldly.

  “You’re going to get yourself into trouble doing that, Oscar,” he admonished. “What if someone finds out your connection to me?”

  “There’re never going to know that unless someone traces you from a mission—”

  “Oscar—”

  The older man raised his arms in a bland submission.

  “I don’t want you in any farther danger,” he said softly.

  “Thank you,” he said, but by then Trent’s attention was drawn to his cell as new updates came in from New Mexico from his stand-in. Thank God for money and advanced technology that allowed him to freely communicate despite his elevation.

  Trent’s eyes ran over the screen as he absorbed the information. He couldn’t get why almost two hours into his flight, Ignacio hadn’t left New Mexico yet. The new guy didn’t believe that anything was off but Trent just had a sixth sense that was telling him that something was going to go upside down pretty soon. He hated the tightened feeling in his gut and with Wyatt planning for the worst, it only intensified it. He didn’t know if the two-hour head start was a blessing or a curse. Quickly, tapping against the screen, he informed the back-up to keep him updated.

  With a tap on his ear, he tried to connect with Wyatt as he started his descent into Iowa.

  “Trent,” Wyatt answered immediately.

  “Ignacio hasn’t left New Mexico yet. He was waiting for Vince and Salvatore to arrive and then they were discussing Raine. He seemed intrigued in finding her more than finding out who you are.”

  Wyatt made a displeased sound because that meant that Raine was at an even higher risk than he had anticipated.

  “He still doesn’t know who she really is but we can’t pledge our bets on that,” he warned.

  “Well, at least by the time they get here you’ll be more than halfway back from dropping off Gabby. If they go commercial then it would make securing everyone even easier because we’d all be in position.”

  “Stake them out before they can start asking around you mean?” he questioned.

  “Yeah; cover all bases,” Wyatt answered. “We’ll play it by ear.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  “Masculinity is not something given to you, but something you gain. And you gain it by winning small battles with honor.”

  —Norman Mailer

  Raine swallowed as the three men stood imposingly before her. Testosterone rolled off of them in massive, sexual waves and she almost- almost fanned herself. How did any woman stand to be in the same room with them for long? She wondered. No wonder they barely worked with females; look what happened with Sandra and Wyatt. And to make matters worse, this wasn’t even the full crew! There were about five of them if she’d gathered the information from Wyatt right; five of them who’d stuck together all these years.

  She blinked up at them despite her more than average height, and she thanked God that she only had eyes for the man who stood easily commanding in the center of the small group. Seeing him in his natural habitat with his friends had the juices between her legs overflowing and if matters weren’t so serious, she’d have probably fanned them off and dragged him into the master suite.

  “Raine, are you hearing a word I’m saying?” he questioned, a stern look on his face.

  “Yeah, sure,” she muttered back and his eyes darkened as he quickly caught onto her lie. She would pay for that later.

  “That’s why you just easily agreed to carry a gun with you at all times?” he stated with a level of steel behind his baritone.

  “You know my stance on that!” she said firmly.

  “Circumstances change,” he supplied. “As they are doing right now.”

  “I will not hold someone’s life in my hand like that, Wyatt!” she snapped, rising to her feet.

  She tilted unsteadily and all three moved towards her in one accord but her man got to her first. “If you do that, Raine; you’re allowing him to have all the power over your life!” he said strongly.

  “Wyatt, we’ve had this argument before—”

  “It’s not like you haven’t held one before,” he sighed heavily as he released her upper arms to run his hands through his dark hair.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded, ignoring the other two men’s surprised looks at her tone and his reaction. She had quickly gathered that no one had ever dared to speak to him in that manner.

  “We all saw the pictures when you tried to kill Stephano—”

  “You know why!” she bit out.

  “I sure as hell do!” he growled. “And I know that you could’ve and you didn’t. That form of hesitation could take you away from Gabby, away from me,” he breathed. By then, his forehead was pressed against hers, and his breath crescendoed over her lips.

  She closed her eyes as tears welled up in them at his tone because she knew that she had brought him to his lowest point before his comrades. He had just opened his heart for all to see. From what she’d gathered from Cr
ew over the last few days, Wyatt wasn’t an emotional guy. He was practical, rational and straight forward but somehow with her, he was a different man altogether. With great tenderness, she reached up to wrap her hands around his neck before touching her lips to his briefly. “I’m only doing this for you,” she whispered.

  “I know,” he replied gently as Trent boldly cleared his throat and Crew shifted uncomfortably. Taking a breath, she giggled when he rolled his eyes before turning to his two friends.

  “If only you could charm, Ignacio that easily,” Trent goaded and Wyatt punched his on his arm.

  Raine winched but neither man seemed to take it as anything more than a light tap.

  “Now back to strategizing,” Crew corralled.

  “Yes, as I was saying; Sandra will be reassigned—”

  “Who will protect Gabby?” she questioned.

  “My parents are highly trained and Gabby isn’t the target, you are. They still don’t know who I am and by the time they do we’d have already taken them out.”

  “Oh,” she answered, stunned at his candor.

  “Sandra will be with you at all times, Trent will be carrying Gabby to Colorado and Crew and I will be assessing the enemy in order to know how best to take him out when Trent returns,” he informed her.

  “It sounds as if you have it all planned out,” she answered calmly though her body was tensed from worry. “But won’t this put your family at risk—”

  He gripped her forearms to stall her frantic pacing. “Raine, everything will be fine. We will all come out of this breathing and able to move forward peacefully. I have no beef with the Genovese Family and if they step forward for taking Ignacio out then we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we get there,” he stated. Her mouth parted to comment and his lips flattened in annoyance. “One thing at a time, Raine,” he cautioned. “Don’t worry; we’ll be fine. I’ll never let anything happen to you—”

  It was her turn to shut him up. “I know that!” she hissed. “It’s not me I’m worried about you big headed brute; it’s you and your ‘I can conquer the world’ attitude.” Her teeth grounded together as his lips twitched before they lifted at the corners. “You are not invincible!” she proclaimed, punctuating each word with a jab to his chest.

  “I’ve been through worse,” he chuckled irritating her even more with his nonchalance. “We’ll be fine, I promise.”

  “So help me God,” she breathed.

  “Now, stop distracting me and allow us to find the best way to protect you, okay?”

  She nodded her answer, suddenly too tired to argue with him. All this was taking a toll on her both physically and mentally.

  “Go, rest, while I iron out your possession permit. For some reason, time is all on our side right now and I want to capture as much of it as possible while we can,” he whispered as he ran a finger over her dewy, soft cheek.

  “Ok,” she answered, too dragged to fuss although the tight feeling in the pit of her gut wouldn’t go away.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  “The little girl's dependency on her father made [his] abuse more insidious.”

  —Joan Frances Casey

  Skipp paced unsteadily back and forth with his cell clutched tightly in his hand. The sun rays stroked the blinds with its kaleidoscope hues but he found no joy in the sunrise as he used to. Another sunrise just meant that his daughter was still too close another day. He had had her car trailed when she’d suddenly showed up all those days ago. He ran his free hand over the back of his neck as his irritation mounted. He hadn’t heard from Stephano since she’s returned and something just didn’t seem right. This hadn’t been the deal that they’d struck up and now she too knew of the most damning details. What’s worse, he needed to get her out of his town before someone recognized her.

  “Bass, what’s wrong?” his latest mistress questioned and he shrugged off her hand between his shoulder blades.

  “It’s nothing, go back to sleep,” he growled as he moved away.

  She opened her mouth to say something and must’ve thought better from the look on his face because she sealed her lips and sat down on the bed.

  Without acknowledging her again, he headed through the opened door and into his soundproof office, slamming the door behind him.

  Why the hell is she still here? He wondered as he paced some more, his white skin tinging red with irritation. If she told anyone what he’d told her all hell would break loose, even if she couldn’t prove it. He was a senator, about to run for president; there was no way he could survive after a scandal like that. Even if he won against her accusations, there would have to be investigations and that would increase the chances of someone finding out that it was all true. He had to get rid of her one way or the other. With jerky movements, he dialed the number that he knew by heart because he’d never dared to store it in his phone, normally, he wouldn’t have even thought of using anything but a payphone or a burner but desperate times called for desperate measures.

  He pressed the cell against his ear and patiently waited for it to be picked up.

  ∆∆∆

  Across state lines, Vince frowned as the phone bussed in his pocket as the slid out of the car to head into the airport. His brows drew together as it brought up that the number was from the very place they were heading.

  “Glue got you stuck?” a voice asked as he paused, lost in his thoughts.

  “Stephano’s phone is ringing, and the call is from Iowa.” That had both Salvatore and Ignacio pausing.

  “Answer it and place it on speaker,” Ignacio instructed. “It might be a contact that he has there who has seen Brooke.”

  With little effort, Vince obeyed by swiping his thumb over the screen. “Hello.”

  “Stephano, this is not what we agreed on!” a familiar voice snapped. “You were supposed to keep my daughter and help me to become president, not send her back when you were tired of her!”

  Everyone, including, the car’s driver froze.

  “Stephano!” the voice snapped against, dragging Vince from his stupor.

  “You’ve seen Brooke?” he questioned and the man seemed to stutter in shock before answering.

  “Who’s Brooke?” he questioned.

  “Your daughter,” Vince responded, confused at the man’s confusion.

  “Are you drunk?” he demanded. “My daughter’s name is Raine, Raine Bass and you know that!”

  Salvatore swore under his breath as a few things dawned on everyone present. Brooke wasn’t Brooke; she was a senator’s daughter who’d been kidnapped and murdered three years ago- a senator who was now running for president.

  Ignacio’s excitement seemed to rise suddenly as if a thought occurred to him that has yet to strike anyone else’s brain. “Do you have Brooke- Raine in your care?” he questioned.

  Senator Skipp seemed to pause. “Who’s that Stephano?” he demanded.

  “I’m Ignacio Genovese, Stephano’s father,” he answered arrogantly.

  “I don’t care if you’re his maid, I made a deal with your son and it is him whom I need to speak to,” Skipp growled, obviously irritated at Ignacio and not truly realizing to whom he spoke.

  “Stephano is dead so it is me who you now answer to,” Ignacio snapped.

  Bass paused for a long moment as if absorbing what the other man had just said.

  “Now, I repeat,” Ignacio began. “Is Raine in your care?” he asked ever so softly.

  “No, but I know where she might be,” he answered tightly.

  “Then I suggest that if you still want to even have a chance at keeping your butt out of jail much more to run to lead this country, you go get her and hang onto her for a minute for me,” he threatened. “I’m already on my way to Iowa.”

  The tension came over the line in waves but they knew who now had the upper hand and it wasn’t Skipp Bass.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he answered grudgingly.

  “That’s not what I asked but I do have a flight to ca
tch so it’s up to you; when I land in Iowa you either sink or you swim,” Ignacio stated coldly and even Salvatore shifted on his feet.

  The old man severed the call before the other man could answer and threw it back to Vince.

  “What do I tell you about politicians,” he chuckled to himself. “They can never be trusted.”

  With a flick of his hand, he dismissed the driver before placing a cell to his ear and talking rapidly before turning back to the two younger men.

  “Change of plans,” he informed them. “We’re taking the chopper; I seem to have a more pressing issue than I thought,” he stated more to himself than them.

  “I don’t get it,” Salvatore mumbled under his breath but the old guy heard him anyway.

  “Brooke- Raine has been a diamond in the rough all this time; we could’ve been ruling Iowa but for three years Stephano stood on this goldmine selfishly. I’d have killed him if he weren’t already dead,” Ignacio stated, grumbling the last part under his breath.

  “Ahh,” Salvatore answered vaguely but Ignacio paid him no mind.

  “We have caught a big fish boys and it’s time to collect payment for it.”

  CHAPTER FOTY-TWO

  “You will never follow your own inner voice until you clear up the doubts in your mind.”

  —Roy T. Bennett

  “Sandra,” Raine whispered as she slid beside the other woman.

  “What’s up?” Sandra answered as she placed the last of Gabby’s ‘favorite’ toys into her Rainbow Dash suitcase.

  “I need some supplies,” she said softly.

  The other woman’s brows drew together in confusion and Raine bite down on the inside of her cheek.

  “Some female supplies,” she murmured lowly and the other woman’s eyes widened in understanding.

  “Oh,” Sandy said, flicking a look towards the men.

  “Badly,” Raine answered, putting on her most pitiful face.

  “Ignacio won’t be here for another couple of hours or more as they’re flying commercial,” she answered. “I’ll talk to Wyatt and see what he thinks. It wouldn’t take long but it’s better to be on the safe said, always,” she finished.