A View to a Thrill (Masters and Mercenaries Book 7)

by Blake, Lexi

  Simon growled. She’d picked a hell of a time to go into her martyr phase.

  Chapter Eight

  Chelsea wished she’d been able to find her sneakers. A woman shouldn’t have to turn herself over to her probable murderers barefoot. Though it was likely a good thing they would kill her since the parking lot was just as gross as the rest of the place and by walking barefoot, she upped her chance of catching foot syphilis by like a hundred percent.

  “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Simon whispered the words her way but she could tell he was yelling at her on the inside. His eyes had gone an icy blue and when he went all icy, she knew she was in trouble.

  She was trouble. Trouble for him. Trouble for everyone. She knew what he’d expected her to do. The minute she’d heard the car roll up and the man started talking, she’d looked for an exit. Run. She was supposed to run as far and as fast as her crap legs would take her, but she’d just stood there, listening to the paid asswipe threatening to take out Simon. He only wouldn’t because he was afraid of Ian, but everyone knew Ian would be more than happy with him if he got rid of the big guy’s problem—her.

  Simon wouldn’t do it. The big, gorgeous, too-good-for-the-world nutcase would stand in front of that door and let his dead body give her another couple of seconds to escape. He wouldn’t do the smart thing and turn her over. And she’d made it so much worse by giving in. He would likely think because they’d shared intimacies, that he had some sort of responsibility toward her. She was sure that there was a “lay down my life for my sub” clause in that contract she should have read.

  She didn’t particularly want to live in a world that didn’t have Simon Weston in it so she’d pulled her big girl panties up—figuratively, of course, god, she wanted some panties; how was she going to explain to her new captors that her previous captor didn’t believe in them and could she get some Hanes size sixes?—and opened the door.

  But did Simon Weston appreciate her sacrifice? No. The idiot stepped in front of her like he wanted to take a bullet to the chest. She had to hope his suit was also bulletproof.

  “When I get you alone, you’re getting the spanking of a lifetime,” he said under his breath. “Do you understand?”

  He sounded really serious. It might be better to go with the murderers. It would definitely be easier on her ass. “You have to let me go with them. We’re out numbered.”

  “They’re not taking you,” Simon shot back. “Not while I’m alive.”

  Couldn’t he see that was exactly what she was worried about?

  Jesse moved to Simon’s side. “How do you want to play this, boss? Divide and conquer?”

  She had no idea what that meant, but it seemed like a bad idea. “How about give up the girl and live to see another day?”

  “Hush. Your input is not required.” Simon nodded at Jesse.

  That one little nod made her stomach tighten. What were they planning? Why wouldn’t they go along with her very reasonable plan of giving up because there was nothing else to do?

  “Mr. Weston, I don’t want to kill you or your associate, but my partners are not in agreement with me. You took out a couple of our friends last night. I understand that it was self-defense but some of my brethren are a bit more unrealistic. They would love to torture you. And your friend there. We’ve heard he likes it.”

  Simon went tense, but Jesse practically froze. “Jesse, you stay calm.”

  Shit. She’d heard Jesse kind of Hulked out from time to time and smashed shit up, but she’d never seen it. This was what they needed to avoid. “Or we could avoid torture of all kinds and just let me go with the bad guys.”

  In the end, she kind of was one of them. Despite what he’d said, she didn’t have anything in common with Simon. She wasn’t heroic. She watched out for herself and her sister, and since her sister didn’t need her anymore, it was all for one and one for Chelsea. That was the way it had always been and no amount of hot sex was going to turn her into a mewling love kitten. She was a tough chick, and she knew when the getting had just gotten good.

  She was going to die if they shot him.

  “She’s being reasonable, Weston. Look, there’s nowhere for you to run. We’ve made it so everyone in the country is looking for you. The story is going nationwide as we speak. There won’t be anywhere in the States where they don’t know your face. That’s a pretty bad thing for a spy, isn’t it? We might be willing to pull back on that news story and keep it local if this ends here. Otherwise, it might be hard for you to go back to the old career,” the tallest asswipe said.

  “I’ll fix his face for him.” The man Chelsea affectionately named Anus Face was staring at Simon, a dark look in his eyes. He seemed to be one of the dickheads who wanted to torture them all. “When I’m done with him, no one will know who he is at all.”

  “Chelsea, hon,” Jesse began. He didn’t look back her way, but spoke in an even tone. “I hope you have my back on this one.”

  He was worried about her loyalty? She was trying to give her damn self up to save him and Simon.

  “Yes, you should really have Jesse’s back,” Simon reiterated.

  “I’m going to shoot up someone’s front if you don’t get out here, bitch,” Anus Face said.

  “I told you I would cooperate but you have to let them go.” She needed to seal this deal or Simon was going to try something stupid. She knew he had a gun on him somewhere. Likely more than one. He could talk about being properly dressed all he liked, but that lovely suit of his also hid a multitude of weapons in a way that Jesse’s T-shirt didn’t. She could see the holster at the small of Jesse’s back and the bulge where the gun was. He was lucky he didn’t get called out three times a day for carrying concealed.

  His back. Damn it. They wanted her to take Jesse’s gun. Divide and conquer. They were going to split up. Jesse would go one way and Simon the other. She looked around the crappy motel parking lot. There was some cover, but they would have to jump to get to it. There was a long box planter that hadn’t seen a flower in decades, but it would likely stop a bullet. That was closest to Jesse. Simon’s option was a nice brick wall about ten feet to his left.

  He would have seconds to make it there before the bullets started. She seriously doubted he was going to just leave her standing there. He wanted her armed. Simon was going to take her with him whether she liked it or not. He was putting her in a box and her two choices were going with his very crazy and likely to get them killed flow or to completely betray him and Jesse and tell the bad guys what they were going to do. She could shout out that Jesse had a gun.

  Likely outcome? Jesse shot dead.

  She could try to get past them, try to get to the assholes.

  Likely outcome? Simon would try to stop her. Bullets would fly. Everyone shot dead.

  Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

  “What if I change my mind and I don’t want to have anyone’s back?” Chelsea asked, tension flooding her. Adrenaline started to pour through her veins, and she longed for her comfy desk chair, her computer, and a cup of ramen noodles. It was pathetic but safe. She never got an adrenaline rush when she was microwaving ramen.

  “Then I’ll handle things my way, love, and your backside better hope I die,” Simon said under his breath. “You have five seconds.”

  “I’m done playing, Weston.” Boss Asswipe took a step forward.

  And Chelsea made the only choice she really had. “I’m coming out.”

  She reached under Jesse’s shirt and slid out the SIG he’d placed there. Even as she pulled it free, her thumb found the safety, clicking it off.

  “Give me cover,” Simon said just as the world seemed to explode around them.

  Simon pulled her to the left, taking her with him as he made his way to the wall. Jesse leapt toward the brick planter that ran all the way back to the motel office.

  Chelsea immediately started firing. Cover. It didn’t matter if she hit anyone. She just needed to make them take cover
for the few seconds it would take for Simon to get them to some level of safety. Her feet slapped against the concrete, hitting a rock that seemed to burrow in. Pain flared and her left thigh seized up, but Simon was there, putting his big body in front of hers and twisting around to ensure she found the safety of the wall first.

  She heard him hiss as his left arm flew back.

  “Oh, god, you’re hit.” She tried to drag him back, but he stood his ground.

  “Watch the left flank. Shoot anyone who comes that way,” he commanded as he pulled his own piece and started firing into the parking lot.

  Her leg ached and the sound of gunfire filled the air. She glanced over and saw Jesse on his knees, aiming at something she couldn’t see.

  They were fucked. There was no way the cops didn’t show up. The OK Corral seemed to be playing out in the motel parking lot. Surely the police would make an appearance.

  Except The Collective seemed to own the police.

  Simon’s left arm was bleeding, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “We’ve got you surrounded Weston,” the boss yelled when the gunfire finally calmed a bit.

  “I don’t see how. We’ve taken out half your men,” Simon replied calmly.

  There was another loud bang and then Jesse’s voice rang out. “Three quarters of their men, boss. Wait. Did I do that math right? I suck at math. I’ll just kill everyone and call it a day.”

  “Stay calm, Jesse,” Simon said, his voice tight.

  Chelsea wasn’t sure how they got out of this without killing everyone. The bad guys weren’t backing down. She looked to her right, her back to the wall that seemed to be the only thing keeping them alive. She saw a shadow start to slink around the corner.

  Chelsea fired and the shadow sank back without a scream. “Simon, I think he’s right. I think we’re surrounded.”

  “I have more men on the way,” the boss said, his voice perfectly calm. “Lay down your weapons and we still might be able to come to a compromise.”

  “Please let me go.” She was willing to beg him. She was willing to do just about anything to not have to watch him die. Watching him get shot had been bad enough.

  “Tag is already on his way,” Simon replied. “Jesse will have shot him an emergency signal that Adam can locate us with. He’ll be here.”

  She didn’t doubt they had a backup plan just in case they got surrounded by douchebags in a cheeseball motel parking lot, but she did have some questions about how quickly Ian could get here. Despite what his men thought, Ian couldn’t fly and he wasn’t faster than the speeding bullet that would soon be heading Simon’s way.

  Jesse was intently keeping his eyes front. He was on one knee, aiming at whoever was in front of him, but he didn’t take a shot, which likely meant the other side had found cover, too.

  There was another volley of gunfire and it was only chance that had Chelsea turn to see a man creeping up behind Jesse. He stepped out of the dingy hallway and leveled his pistol at Jesse’s head.

  “Jesse!” Chelsea screamed.

  In a single move, Jesse flipped his body back, hitting the man behind him squarely in the midsection. The man hit his ass with a groan as his gun clattered to the concrete, but he was seemingly well trained because he didn’t sit back and take stock. He kicked out and caught Jesse in the back, sending him flying forward where he banged against the bricks of the planter. He held on to his gun, but the man behind him wrapped a beefy arm around Jesse’s neck and tightened it.

  “Shit,” Simon cursed. “Chelsea, you have to run if you get the chance. Run and hide and wait for Tag. Do you understand me?”

  She nodded because she totally understood the words. The good news was he didn’t ask her if she agreed, nor did he ask if she intended to comply. Her answer to both would have been a hearty no.

  Jesse was turning a frightening shade of red, but he was fighting. The man who had him in a headlock started to drag him upright. His big chest would be a massive target for the bad guys to play with.

  Chelsea tried to line up a shot, but they were tangled together.

  Simon took a deep breath and stepped out of his protection.

  The world was filled with gunshots again, but Simon was the target now.

  * * * *

  He was going to leave his hand imprint on that gorgeous ass of hers. No question about it. She would live forever with his mark on her ass.

  If he lived, and that was suddenly a big if. He’d already had a bullet burn against his bicep. He could still move the damn thing, but the pain made his eyes almost cross. He was certain it was just a graze, but it hurt. There wasn’t time to think about it though. They were pinned down and out of time.

  Simon glanced to his right and saw that Jesse was playing dirty and very likely going into a PTSD-crazed state that would cause him no end of trouble. Jesse’s eyes had gone wild and a little glassy as he fought his attacker. He’d dropped his SIG as if he didn’t even remember he had it anymore. He managed to get his head down far enough that he could sink his teeth into his attackers forearm. There was a loud scream because Jesse wasn’t giving the bloke a little nip. Blood immediately began to flow as Jesse settled in like a pit bull who wouldn’t give up a nice treat.

  Fuck. He had to keep the others off his partner because Jesse couldn’t bloody well protect himself when he was in this state. He would think only of killing the people around him because in his rage-addled brain, they all became his former captors. Eve had described it to Simon as Jesse being stuck in a waking nightmare. He really thought he was back in Iraq, fighting desperately for his life, and his senses became overwhelmed with the vision. He wouldn’t be able to see straight or think straight until someone knocked him out or managed to talk him down. He was fairly certain there wouldn’t be a lot of time to talk him down.

  Simon felt a bullet burn past his left shoulder and dropped to one knee, aiming where the bullet had come from. Breathing past the pain, he reacted on pure ingrained instinct. He popped two quick shots and managed to take out his attacker with a direct chest hit.

  How many more?

  He ran until he was behind the front of Jesse’s Jeep. The remaining attackers seemed to be huddled behind their SUV.

  How many bodies had he counted? There had been four that came out of the SUV, but they must have come from somewhere else, too, since there had been a fifth man who tried to sneak around to take them out from the side.

  The parking lot fell silent, only the sounds of Jesse and his attacker fighting. Simon looked over and Jesse had blood dripping from his mouth, but he managed to get the man off him. It looked like he spat a chunk of arm out. Simon was going to have to talk to him about that. Very unsanitary. Jesse punched out, catching the taller man on the jaw and putting him to the floor.

  Simon laid out a line of suppressive fire just as one of the remaining men started to take a shot at Jesse’s back.

  Return fire hit the Jeep and just inches away from Simon’s head. He had to pray they didn’t call in reinforcements. He was just about spent. His extra clip was in his go bag. What the hell was he going to do? He prayed Chelsea had run.

  And then he saw him. Six foot five, with a square jaw that could have been cut from granite. Ian Taggart was dressed in black sweat pants and a black T-shirt, stalking his prey from behind. Simon couldn’t see him clearly, but there was no mistaking that jawline. He was wearing a ball cap that covered the majority of his face as he moved more silently than any big man should. He popped a quick round into the man who had tried to kill Jesse and then faded back behind the opposite wall.

  A deep wave of relief sank into Simon’s system. The lads were here. If Ian was here then so were Jake and Li and Alex. Adam would be somewhere close, working his mojo to keep the police off them.

  There was one last pop and then the lot fell utterly silent except for the sound of Jesse pounding on his victim. Simon took a look around and realized every single human who had tried to take them down was dead on the ground
. Tag was going to have his ass, but he was glad for the save.

  Now he just had to save Jesse from himself. He got to his feet. He needed to get control of his partner before Tag and the team came out. They were likely doing a sweep to make sure they were completely safe. If he could spare Jesse the rest of the team seeing him like this, he would. He also had no idea what Tag would do if he thought Jesse was threatening the rest of the team. It was up to him to fix this. He’d fucked up and gotten them into this situation in the first place. Jesse should be waking up next to Phoebe and worrying about breakfast, not fighting demons only he could see.

  “Hey, partner, it’s time to come back to earth. Listen to the sound of my voice.” He kept his distance and didn’t holster his gun, but he wasn’t pointing it either. There had only been the one time he’d been almost certain he would have to put a bullet in Jesse. He never wanted to come that close again. “The rest of the team is here and we’re safe. Time isn’t on our side. Adam can only keep the police at bay for so long. We need to go.”

  Jesse straddled the other, his fist moving in a rhythmic fashion, and he was speaking under his breath. The same words over and over again. Farsi. He was saying something in Farsi each time he planted his fist in the man’s face.

  The dead man’s face. There was no way that bloke got off the cement again without the aid of a body bag. Jesse’s T-shirt was covered in blood.

  “Come on, listen to this accent, brother. You know me, Jesse. It’s Simon and it’s time for you to stop. He’s dead. You did your job. Now come back to reality and we’ll collect Chelsea and get out of here.”

  Jesse’s eyes came up as a man in dark pants and a black jacket stepped out from the hallway that led to the office.

  “Stand down,” the man said. He was built like a brick shithouse and armed to the teeth. Where the hell had Tag gone? “Weston, I don’t want to hurt the kid, but I have my orders. I’ll put him down if I need to. Get him to back off now.”