The Steve Williams Series Boxed Set

by J. E. Taylor

“Yes, that would be helpful.”

  Chris opened the door a few minutes later. He took the package from the attendant and forked over a hefty tip. “Did they leave a name?”

  “The man said his name was Kyle.”

  “Thank you.” Chris held the frozen smile on his face until the door closed and then tore open the box. The world swam in front of him and he read the note, his eyes returning to the severed finger as each word penetrated him like a gunshot.

  “Jesus Christ.” He found his way to the couch and grabbed the phone dialing his home in Maine.

  “Hello?”

  “Mom?” Chris asked in surprise.

  “Hi, Chris, has Jessie gotten there yet?” Jessica’s mother replied.

  “Oh, yeah, I just wanted to make sure the kids got home okay,” Chris answered quickly.

  “They’re playing outside. Do you want me to call them inside?”

  “No, just making sure. I’ll call before bedtime. Thanks, Mom,” he said and hung up the phone. His gaze swiveled back to the box trying to put two and two together in his mind.

  He picked up the note and read it slowly, trying to comprehend what had gone wrong. Chris stared at the box on the table in front of him again, his stomach in knots and his heart pounding too hard in his chest. Pulling his cell from his pocket, he dialed Steve’s cell number.

  “I was wondering how long it would take for you to call,” Kyle purred in the phone. “Your wife is going to be such a good fuck.”

  Jessica’s scream barreled through his brain like an F-15 breaking the sound barrier and Chris jumped to his feet. The last time he heard that volume from Jessica was when Frank raped her in the hallway of the complex fifteen years before. He closed his eyes, containing the anger inside. The image she sent along with the mental scream made his eyes snap wide again.

  He knew exactly where they were.

  “You really have no clue do you?” Chris growled. It was the same low tone of voice he used earlier.

  “Your brother stole my money and I want it back. I will give you an hour and then you will get another piece of your wife.”

  “My brother is dead you stupid fuck,” he said grabbing the box and left the apartment. “I stole your money.” He stabbed his finger on the down button.

  “Well, then, I guess I’ve got the upper hand here. I have your wife and your FBI boy here and we’ve been having a ball. If I don’t have my money back in my account along with another hundred million in the next hour, I’ll start chopping her up.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Chris snapped and stepped onto the elevator closing the phone. “I’m coming, babe,” he said aloud and ran into the garage sliding into his car.

  Chapter 62

  Kyle flipped the phone closed, smiling at Jessica. “He’s going to see what he can do.” He knelt back down on the ground in front of her, moving the handle again. “In the meantime...” He slammed the crop in her. “I need to teach you a lesson.”

  Jessica threw herself forward, connecting her forehead to his nose and sending him back on the floor. She sat back glaring at him.

  Jessica calculated how long it would take her husband to cross Manhattan and prayed he’d get there before this man lost it. What she saw in his eyes planted doubt in her soul and she braced herself.

  “Bitch!” he snapped, holding his bloody nose. He grabbed the knife off the floor and buried it in her side, spearing layers of her intestines. He yanked the blade out and put the tip to her throat.

  White spots of pain flared in her line of sight and her breath locked in her throat. A scream trapped by the lack of air pressed against her chest and she clamped her teeth together. A red spot spread across her camisole and she concentrated on mending the wound. Searing pain engulfed her and a gasp escaped, the skin binding together at her direction. “If you kill me, you can kiss the money goodbye,” she hissed.

  Kyle’s lips twitched and his murderous glare dulled. He pulled the knife away setting it carefully down on the floor like it could turn on him at any moment.

  When he returned his gaze to her, she knew she was in trouble.

  He wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve and grabbed hold of the crop, slamming its length inside her again. “But I can hurt you as much as I want until I get paid.”

  * * * *

  “You bastard, leave her alone,” Steve wheezed, the effort draining what little strength he had left.

  His vision doubled, and then tripled. He snapped his head back and forth trying to shake himself into full consciousness, but he kept slipping into the dark. His chest burned under the pressure, each breath a fight to sustain life.

  Hanging on the cross for seven hours left his muscles cramping and unable to support his weight any longer.

  Stay with me! Chris is on his way. His eyes fluttered open as Jessica’s voice barreled through his brain and he groaned.

  Chapter 63

  Goosebumps covered her skin and she shivered. A crease appeared between her eyes. Jennifer Williams blinked her eyes open for the first time in close to a year, staring at the bare rafters above her. Confusion overwhelmed her and she tilted her head, inspecting her surroundings.

  The wall to her left was not that of the cabin. It was metal and brick and she blinked, lowering her eyes to the light hospital gown she wore.

  This certainly wasn’t a hospital either.

  She closed her eyes and her last memory of the cottage surfaced—running toward her daughter and the sound of her world ripping apart. Her eyes snapped open and she focused on the room beyond the table.

  Her surroundings made no sense and she sat up, swaying from the sudden light-headedness. Voices started to register, but the sight of a man who looked frighteningly like her husband nailed to a cross brought her hand to her mouth.

  It couldn’t be him, there are no scars. “Steve?”

  His eyes swiveled to hers and widened a fraction.

  Jennifer stared at him and swung her legs over the side of the table, her eyes darted toward movement on her right and her gaze fell on Kyle. A sudden pain ripped through her at the sight of him. Her eyes jumped from him to Steve and back when he stood and started in her direction.

  “Run.” The word hissed from Steve’s chest and her eyes found his again.

  The command registered in her brain mingling with the memory in the glade outside of Black Cove with the same tone and urgency in his voice. Jennifer reacted, darting toward the door.

  Kyle was faster, intercepting her and reaching for her arm. Jennifer sidestepped him and fury filled her. Memories like a sick slide show snapped off in her mind, the cabin, the hospital, her daughter, everything; and rage took over.

  She spun away, executing a sidekick that connected with his groin, and instead of running, she went into attack mode.

  “Jenny, RUN!” Steve bellowed.

  This time she ignored him.

  “You killed my daughter!” The words hissed from her dry throat. Venom spit from her mouth along with a string of curses that did nothing to alleviate the raw rage rattling through her veins, giving her an inhuman strength.

  Her next kick connected with Kyle’s face, and he rolled away, still clutching the knife. He shot to his feet and she swung her fist, hell bent on smashing his nose but he blocked the wild swing, whipping her around and letting go.

  Jennifer tripped, sprawling to the ground and her anger transitioned to fear. She tried to roll away, but Kyle was already on top of her, pinning her with his knees. He swung his fist, connecting with her nose and slamming her head into the hard floor, dazing her.

  * * * *

  Steve was now fully lucid, his labored heart pounding in his chest.

  “Bitch!” Kyle raised the knife in the air

  The roar that escaped Steve echoed against the brick walls and the knife arched toward Jennifer’s chest. It stopped a few feet above her and blood slid down the suspended blade.

  Searing pain tore the flesh of Steve’s chest, puncturing his lung and his b
reath hitched.

  For the second time, he put himself between the blade and someone he cared about, but this time it wasn’t just his hand. His already taxed lungs seized with agony and the world swam as he drowned in his own blood.

  Chapter 64

  Chris slid into the parking lot in less than fifteen minutes. He hopped out of the car and sprinted inside, vaulting up the stairs two at a time.

  Steve’s roar filled the hallway and Chris blew the door off the hinges, stepping inside as Kyle turned his head toward the door. The knife hung in the air above Jennifer, dripping with blood and Chris knew without looking that Steve had blocked it just like Eric did so many years ago.

  Kyle pivoted, scrambling to his feet with the knife. He crossed the room reaching Jessica and Chris took another step into the room.

  Chris raised his eyes to the back of the cross, the anger sparking to fury inside him. The screws holding Steve in place exploded out of the wood, catapulting across the room and embedding head first into the brick façade.

  Steve fell and when his feet hit the floor, he collapsed with a yelp of pain. He choked on blood trying to suck large quantities of oxygen into his starving lungs. Pain caused him to see dark spots and he struggled not to suffocate on the blood filling his lung. He rolled onto his stomach, maneuvering to his knees with the palms of his hands on the floor, the air gurgling through the wound in his chest.

  Kyle pressed the knife against Jessica’s throat, staring into the eyes of the man who interrupted his killing spree.

  “Took you long enough,” Jessica said and tried to smile at her husband.

  Chris nodded and his eyes lowered to the riding crop sticking out from beneath her camisole. Raw rage filled his form, flaring his power into a roaring beast. His eyes returned to meet Kyle’s. “You just fucked with the wrong person.”

  The knife ripped out of Kyle’s hand and flew to the far wall at the same time the riding crop dislodged from Jessica, falling to the floor.

  Chris mentally shoved Kyle and he fell backwards landing on his ass with a thud. Kyle’s gaze darted toward both the gun on the far chair and the knife to his left, the indecision etched into his features.

  With a twitch of Chris’s head, the bindings holding Jessica and Sarah evaporated, freeing them and he pointed toward Steve. “Help him, Jess,” he ordered and stepped into the center of the room.

  Sarah rolled off the table and Kyle’s jaw dropped and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “But…”

  Chris chuckled. “But what?”

  Kyle’s head snapped back toward Chris, his shock transitioning to fear. Fear Chris could feel pulsing through the bastard’s veins.

  “Who are you?” Kyle asked, his voice hardly a whisper.

  With a dismissive hand gesture, the furniture between them flew in opposite directions crashing against the far walls, clearing a wide path and Chris smiled. “I am your worst fucking nightmare.”

  Kyle lunged for Steve’s gun.

  “I don’t think so,” Chris said willing the gun across the room. It landed behind him next to the door.

  Kyle shook, sweat breaking out on his upper lip and his eyes widened. “What are you?”

  Chris chuckled and spread his arms wide. “I’m the angel of death, boy, and I’ve come to drag you to hell.”

  * * * *

  Jessica crossed the room, sliding next to Steve and leaned forward, planting a healing kiss on his forehead. Light spread over his body and patched the knife wounds and the holes in his wrists and feet.

  Steve drew in a hissing breath. “Jenny.” He looked up at his wife before his eyes rolled up in his head and he passed out.

  “What did you do to him?” Jennifer gasped, falling to her knees in front of him. Her jaw dropped when the last of the wounds on his wrists disappeared, erasing any remnant of a scar, leaving the skin perfect and unbroken. She scanned his perfect back before turning toward Jessica.

  Jessica met her gaze for an instant, ignoring the awe tattooed there and turned her attention to Chris. Her fear of Kyle wasn’t in the same vicinity of what raked through her slight form at the sight of Chris’s eyes. His blue irises stood out against a blood-red backdrop, making him look more demon than human. Thin streams of blood leaked from the corner of his eyes, marring his perfect profile, reminding her of the scars her son erased.

  “Ty,” Jessica whispered, calling Chris’s attention. She shook her head. “Don’t.”

  Chris took a deep breath, tearing his gaze away from Jessica, focusing back on the man who had hurt her today. “Sorry, babe,” he said and stepped dead center, squaring himself in the direction of Kyle.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got.” Chris waved Kyle in, curling his hands into fists.

  Chapter 65

  Steve groaned, raising his head from the floor and blinking up at his wife. “Jenny,” his voice hitched and in one motion, he had her in his arms, clinging to her as the pain subsided.

  For a moment, the world was right. Her scent, her soft skin, even the concern in her voice as she said his name flooded his senses and he squeezed his eyes shut, controlling the onslaught of emotion.

  Chris’s voice brought him out of his silent reverie and back to the current situation. He turned his attention to the center of the room, dislodging himself from Jennifer.

  “He’s mine,” Steve said and stood.

  “No, Steve.” Chris diverted his eyes from Kyle, meeting his gaze. “You can’t.” He mentally pushed Steve back on his ass, holding him there with an invisible grip as unyielding as the screws that had held him to the cross.

  Chris turned toward Kyle in time to see the knife hurtling through the air toward him. He spun to the side, striking the knife with his forearm, sending it sailing away and leaving a bloody welt in his arm.

  Kyle’s eyes went wide.

  Chris studied his forearm and glanced up at Kyle. He took form again allowing a small smile to find his lips.

  Kyle’s brow creased. “You’re Ty Aris, aren’t you?” He remembered the picture he saw of Ty and the cold stare was the same.

  Chris let the smile disappear and glared at Kyle. “Perhaps.”

  Kyle shivered. “This is a little unfair, don’t you think?” His voice shook.

  Chris shrugged. “Tying a bomb to an infant is a little unfair. At least I didn’t hurt kids.”

  They circled each other keeping a good five feet between them. Finally Chris stopped.

  “Come on, do something,” he demanded. He spread his arms wide. “I’ll even give you the first shot for free.”

  Kyle took the bait and stepped in, throwing a right hook.

  Chris pivoted and stepped back, throwing a punch that connected with Kyle’s kidney as he sailed by. “Pathetic attempt. I thought a big badass assassin would have cleaner moves than that. You’re nothing but a common punk.”

  Kyle caught his balance. Spinning toward Chris, he roared and lunged.

  Chris spun out of the way and swept Kyle’s feet out from under him.

  Kyle sprawled on the floor. “Fuck!” Cursing, he scrambled to his feet.

  “Stop playing games, Chris, kill the bastard,” Steve said, straining against the mental grip enough to get to his feet.

  “Sit your ass down!” Chris yelled and pointed in his direction.

  Steve sat on the floor obediently, the invisible hand back and holding him in place. “Goddamnit Chris, he killed my little girl!”

  “Don’t worry, Steve. He won’t leave this warehouse alive,” Chris said, while keeping sight of Kyle and blinking back the blood red film covering his eyes. He offered a cold smile. “You killed my son,” he said, addressing Kyle.

  Kyle smiled. “He was such an easy shot, bullet tore right through his heart.”

  The fury took over and Chris stepped forward, throwing a hard right, connecting with Kyle’s chest, sending him flying off his feet onto his back and into the wall. Chris was on him seconds later, yanking him to his feet and slamming him into the hard b
ricks. He never saw the knife until the pain flashed in his side.

  Kyle smiled and pulled the blade out of Chris’s stomach, plunging it a second time before Chris could react.

  This time the knife sliced Chris’s liver in half. Adrenaline rushed and Chris picked Kyle up and threw him across the room with a roar. He looked down at the blood spreading across the lower half of his shirt and down the front of his pants. “Shit,” he said, falling to his knee in a swoon. He shook his head clear and struggled to his feet, facing Kyle.

  Kyle charged.

  Chris snarled, lashing a fraction of power in Kyle’s direction, honing in on his face.

  Kyle’s eyes exploded and he screamed. His hands flew to his face with the knife still clutched in his fist.

  The gunshot rang through the room, the deafening boom made Steve wince and within a blink, a wall of raw power slammed into him, knocking him back on his ass. The impact of Chris’s power filled his skin and nearly stopped his heart. With it came the knowledge of why Steve couldn’t kill Kyle, and his breath caught in his throat.

  Chris’s passing from this world to the next overwhelmed him and his gaze snapped to his body. Blood pooled around his head on the wooden floor and Chris stared at the ceiling with one eye. The other eye was gone, taken out by chance, by a ricocheted bullet.

  Tears sprang to Steve’s eyes. “Jesus, no,” he whispered. The invisible hand that held him in place was gone and he stood.

  “No!” Jessica’s scream diminished under the sound of the second gunshot.

  A bullet tore through Kyle’s groin and he fell to his knees. His scream louder than Jessica’s.

  Steve spun in the direction of the gunshot.

  Sarah had the gun trained on Kyle with her face twisted into a mask of fury. She squeezed the trigger again, and Kyle’s screams drowned out Jessica’s pleading sobs.

  Steve stepped between Sarah and what was left of Kyle, blocking her line of fire. “Enough, Sarah,” he said and her eyes met his.

  He wanted to say he understood.