Hard Core (Onyx Group)

by Jennifer Lowery

  “In a heartbeat.”

  “I had not expected this from you. I’m impressed. I think maybe we can work something out.”

  Alana looked up to see Cristian watching her intently. “Leave them alone and I’ll come to you.”

  “Deja vu, hmm, darling?” he murmured.

  Of the worst kind. “Do you agree?”

  Silence. “Yes, I agree. But, know this. If I hear that your Dave is sharing knowledge, then I will kill him. And if your mercenary tries to save you or come after me, I will put a bullet in him too. Are we clear?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now, on to more important things. I’m on my way to Chicago. Where shall I meet you?”

  Alana rattled off the location Cristian had written on a piece of paper.

  “Two o’clock tomorrow,” Gavin said. “Come alone, darling. No tricks. I’m not one hundred percent sure I can trust you, so don’t let me down.”

  “I won’t risk their lives,” she said. “I’ll be alone. Keep your word, Gavin. Once I’m yours, you leave them alone.”

  “I give my word.”

  “Fine. I have no choice but to believe you. Two o’clock tomorrow.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  The line went dead and Alana disconnected, dropping the phone on the table. Shaking, she looked up at Cristian. “It’s done.”

  “You did good,” he said.

  She forced a smile. Her idea. But now that it was happening, she wasn’t ready. The idea of facing the man who’d murdered her father made her shudder. Just talking to the man on the phone made her break out in a cold sweat.

  Mercer put a hand on her shoulder. “We got your back.” He pulled out his cellphone to update the boss.

  Cristian sat in the chair next to her and put a hand over hers where it trembled on the tabletop. She looked at him. “Tomorrow.”

  He nodded.

  She drew in a deep breath. “I’m ready for this.”

  Again, Cristian nodded.

  “We can do this.”

  Cristian’s hand squeezed hers. “You don’t have to go through with this. It isn’t too late.”

  Alana shook her head. “Yes, I do.”

  “Ross is here. That’s all I need. You don’t need to be a part of it.”

  “I am part of it. Don’t you see? This isn’t about a contract, Cristian. It’s about a man who blackmailed me and killed the people I love. It’s about vengeance.”

  “I’ll get him this time, Alana. You can trust that.”

  “I trust you.”

  His gaze met hers. “Because I’m good at my job?”

  She hadn’t expected him to ask that. He didn’t get personal. But the softly asked question made her wish they had a future. Crazy, wanting to spend the rest of her life with a mercenary, but she did. The thought of going on with her life without him scared her even more than facing Gavin tomorrow. Cristian gave her strength, made her believe in herself. He gave her confidence back. Knowing he had her back comforted her. She wanted him to have her back for life.

  Pipe dreams, she thought wistfully. Cristian’s heart had been locked away and not even she had the key.

  “No,” she said. “Because you’re a good man.”

  He frowned. “Why do you think that?”

  She smiled sadly. He truly didn’t know the kind of man he was. “Just because you’re a mercenary doesn’t make you a bad person. You protect our country, Cristian. You get rid of criminals who hurt people. What can be wrong about that?”

  “I’m a hired gun.”

  “And so is our military.”

  “That’s not the same thing. Soldiers serve their country. I serve myself.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Alana, you’ve never been one to look at the world through rose-colored glasses.”

  “And I’m not now. If you were self-serving, then you wouldn’t have given your promise to my father and you wouldn’t be helping me now.”

  “Alana--”

  She clamped a hand over his mouth to stop him. “I know what you’re going to say and you’re wrong. Just take the trust I’ve bestowed on you and hold on to it, all right? Do that for me?”

  Slowly, he nodded and she removed her hand. “Now, I ask one more thing of you before we meet Gavin tomorrow.” She dropped the subject before he withdrew from her.

  His eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “You take me to a shooting range and teach me how to shoot a gun.”

  “No.”

  “I want to learn.”

  “You’re not the gun-owning type.”

  “So you won’t teach me?” she argued. “I don’t like guns, but I can’t live in a fairy tale world forever. Gavin brought violence into my life and I need to learn to protect myself. You can teach me.”

  “No.”

  Frustrated, she said, “You won’t always be there to protect me, Cristian.”

  He visibly tensed and she held tighter to his hand. They both knew she spoke the truth. He traveled the world to do his job. He couldn’t be in two places at one time.

  “I want to know more than to aim and shoot,” she pushed.

  “A gun isn’t something to be taken lightly.”

  “I’m not a child, Cristian.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way. Once you own one, it changes you.”

  “I didn’t say I wanted to own a gun.”

  He cocked a brow and she relented. “All right, fine. I probably will buy one. I know about PTSD and nightmares. I’m living it.”

  “I know. I wish I could change that.”

  Touched, she leaned in close so their knees were touching. Mercer stood in front of the windows, with his back to them while he talked on his cell. “Thank you for that,” she murmured, inhaling his intoxicating masculine scent, wanting to touch the stubble on his jaw. “A gun will make me feel safe.”

  “Illusions.”

  “I’ll take the illusion. I’m going to be living alone. Times are changing. The streets aren’t as safe as they once were.” Much as she hated saying those words, they were true. Tomorrow this would all be over and she would be putting it in her past and moving on. Trying to find a place for herself in this world she hadn’t been in for a few years.

  “You’re not supposed to know that,” he murmured.

  “But I do. Gavin opened my eyes to the violent side of life. Help me deal with it.”

  His hand cupped the back of her neck and pulled her head down so their foreheads were touching. “I hate that you’re thinking this way.”

  “So do I. Is that a yes?” The words came out as little more than a whisper. Without him, she would never make it through what she had to do. If he turned her down, she would truly be lost.

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead and she almost cried. This man had many sides and she’d only just scratched the surface. But time had run out and she would never know the rest.

  “Yes,” he said quietly before letting her go, rising to his feet and walking away.

  She watched him talking to Mercer, dressed casually in slacks and blue shirt that matched his eyes. He looked elegant and handsome. Not like the hard man she’d met in the jungle.

  Though she wanted this to be over, she missed Cristian already. Her heart broke. She’d experienced heartache, but not like this. This felt like the breath being sucked from her lungs until she thought she would suffocate.

  Tears filled her eyes and she turned away and blinked hard. It was over. She may as well accept it now, because tomorrow would come soon enough.

  Then she would walk away from the man she loved.

  * * * *

  “Put these on,” Slade handed Alana a pair of safety goggles and earplugs. She did as told.

  They were standing in one of the stalls of the shooting range he used in the city. He wanted to be anywhere but here. Alana didn’t belong in a place like this. She fought for the good team. Learning to shoot a gun went against her moral code and his gut burned when he thought ab
out the man who’d brought her to this place.

  “Okay, spread your legs, get a solid stance,” Slade instructed, standing behind Alana and spreading her legs with his foot. Stepping in closer, he lifted her arms. “Wrap your left hand around your right.”

  She did as told, her thumbs touching as she’d learned earlier.

  “Is your finger riding the slide?” he asked.

  She turned the gun over to show him she used proper technique. “Safety on.”

  “There’s a round in the chamber and fifteen in the magazine.” He’d chosen his 9mm for her to learn on and seeing it now in her small, delicate hands only reminded him of the situation that had brought them here. “Now, look at the target. See the solid black center?”

  She nodded. “That’s where you’re aiming. Relax your arms. Bend at the elbow. You never want to shoot with straight, stiff arms.”

  “Okay,” she said, bending her elbows, but still stiff.

  “Look down the barrel at your sights. You have one in the front and one in the back.”

  “I see them.”

  “When you’re ready to fire, remove the safety, sight, and squeeze the trigger.”

  Stepping back, he gave her room, letting her decide when she was ready. She stood, tall and slender, her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, designer jeans molding her curves. A sight to behold.

  He knew each of those curves intimately. Every erogenous zone, every freckle. What made her sigh and where to touch to make her come apart. He knew her better than he knew himself. Not even with Mariette had he been so in tune with a woman. Nor had he wanted one the way he wanted Alana. Every second of every day he wanted her. It made him realize that what he had with Alana was very different than how he’d felt about Mariette. He had loved her, but he hadn’t been in love with her.

  Even now he wanted to press Alana against the wall and take her. She was like a drug to his system, demanding he succumb. He didn’t like the control she had over him, but was helpless to stop it. Hell, he didn’t want to stop it. Until she was out of his system, he wanted to indulge every whim, every fantasy.

  He had done that and more. The sexual Olympics they’d indulged in the past week should have sated him. It hadn’t. All only made him crave her more. Made him feel more protective, more possessive.

  It scared the hell out of him. The thought of opening his heart to a woman again made him break out in a cold sweat. Men like him didn’t get a second chance at love.

  Looking back, he decided what he’d felt for Mariette hadn’t been the kind of love that would last a lifetime. If there was such a thing. She’d accepted him and he’d been desperate for someone to want him. But he hadn’t opened up to her. Hadn’t been able to be honest. Maybe out of fear that she wouldn’t look at him the same. Maybe out of pride. Either way, he hadn’t done it. And when he’d tried, it had backfired in his face.

  A sign he should run like the wind instead of taking the risk.

  “Relax your shoulders,” he coached.

  “I know.” Seconds later she lowered the gun and flipped on the safety, head bowed. “I can’t do it.”

  Slade stepped closer and took the gun from her hand. He tilted her chin up with his finger. “Because you have compassion.”

  Gray-green eyes met his, full of disappointment. “I can have compassion and still defend myself,” she argued.

  “Do you really think you can shoot a man?” he asked softly. “Take a life?”

  Her shoulders slumped. “I thought I could. Every time I think about what Gavin did to my father, I want to.”

  “That makes you human. It doesn’t make you a killer.”

  She wilted against him and let her head fall on his chest, her arms around his waist. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “Of everything. I never used to be scared of anything.”

  Slade slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close. Someone shot off a couple rounds a few stalls down and she jumped.

  “See?” she said. “Jumpy.”

  “You weren’t expecting it,” he explained. “You’ve been through hell, Alana. You’ve endured more than most and it has made you stronger. You just can’t see it.”

  “And you do?” she murmured against his chest.

  “Yes, I do.”

  She looked up, eyes wet with tears behind her yellow safety glasses. He wanted to wipe them all away. “You’re human. It’s okay to be scared. I would worry if you weren’t.”

  “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

  He smiled. “Is it working?”

  Her eyes brightened. “Yes. I like to see you smile.”

  He planted a chaste kiss on her lips. “Stand back. I’m going to expend this magazine.”

  She stood back while he emptied the clip. And when he brought the target in she gaped at the tight circle of holes dead center.

  “You’re really good,” she murmured.

  “It’s my job to be good.”

  “Gavin doesn’t stand a chance.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Slade said gruffly. The man was pure evil and going down. Never had a contract needed it more.

  “Would it be wrong of me to feel…uneasy about killing him?”

  Slade popped the empty clip into his hand. “I’m the one firing the bullet.”

  “I know. But…I thought I wanted blood. Now, I’m not so sure.”

  “You don’t have to be sure. I was hired to kill him and I’m following through.”

  “Hired by who?”

  “That’s classified.”

  “Cristian, please.”

  He glanced at her. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Who hires someone to kill another? The government?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “This time?”

  “No.”

  “A private party then?”

  He didn’t answer. He’d said too much already.

  “Can I ask why?”

  Slade slid his finger over the smooth barrel of the 9mm. “Let’s just say Ross has been in business for a long time and that he kidnapped the wrong girl a year ago. A girl whose father has money and motivation to have the man erased.”

  “Okay, let’s say that,” Alana murmured.

  Dismay and contemplation crossed her face as she tried to digest the situation. A woman like her should struggle with it. He wanted her nowhere near as immune as he had become over the years. He didn’t want her tainted by violence.

  “I shouldn’t have told you.” If Gallagher knew he disclosed his contract, he would string him up and skin him alive. Complete confidentiality was the group’s number one rule.

  “I wish you hadn’t. It only reminds me of what a monster Gavin really is. Give me that gun.”

  He tucked the 9mm behind his leg. “This isn’t the way,” he said quietly. She would eventually find peace with what Ross did to her and her family, but the scars would remain. Living with a gun in the house would only serve as a reminder of what she’d suffered and lost. She didn’t need any more reminders.

  “Cristian,” she said in warning, reaching for the gun, but he sidestepped. Stopping, she huffed out a breath. “You can’t decide what’s best for me.”

  “Only in this.”

  She crossed her arms. “Fine. You win. I don’t like the idea of owning a gun anyhow. Can we leave? I don’t like it here.”

  With a nod, he guided her from the range.

  Chapter 22

  Cristian woke with a start. Chest heaving, he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom as remnants of his dream made him sweat. He’d dreamed Gavin Ross killed Alana right in front of him and he could do nothing but watch helplessly as it happened.

  Rubbing a hand over his face, he looked over to see Alana sprawled next to him, sound asleep. Needing to touch her, he reached for her. She snuggled willingly into his arms and for a moment he simply held her, unable to shake the dream.

  “Cristian? What’s wrong?” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his neck.


  “Bad dream.”

  He felt her smile. “You told me you never dream.”

  Normally, he didn’t. This one shook him to the core. Not only because of what it symbolized, but because he couldn’t deny the truth any longer. He had fallen in love with Alana.

  She moved over him, rising above him. “I think I have just the cure for bad dreams,” she said and took him inside her.

  He groaned at the exquisite pleasure as the most beautiful woman in the world erased his dreams.

  He’d failed with Mariette. This time he would get things right. He would protect Alana. He’d promised her father.

  And himself.

  * * * *

  “I can’t breathe,” Alana protested, pushing at Cristian’s hands where they tightened a Kevlar vest around her. The heavy, padded vest weighed more than the lead coats worn for x-rays. It pulled her shoulders down and felt bulky and awkward.

  “It has to fit snug.” Cristian fastened the last strap.

  “It’s uncomfortable.” She wiggled around to try and get a better fit.

  “Stop moving,” he grumbled, checking the straps for security.

  “I can’t help it. It feels like it weighs fifty pounds.”

  “Six.”

  “Oh, well, light as a feather,” she muttered. The vest was stiff and rigid, without give.

  He moved around behind her to check the fit, tugging on the vest and about bringing her off her feet.

  “The vest won’t help if he shoots me in the head.”

  “He isn’t going to shoot at you at all,” Cristian said tightly. “Now hold still.”

  She couldn’t hold still. She was too wired. Scared. Anxious. Last night she hadn’t been able to sleep. Not even after making love. Cristian had been slightly withdrawn afterward. There, but at a distance. It didn’t show in his lovemaking, only in his eyes and in his silence. If she didn’t know him as well as she did, she never would have noticed his retreat. Over the past few weeks she’d gotten to know his moods, and he had definitely put distance between them.

  Ever since they’d made plans to meet Gavin Ross.

  Which meant Cristian was preparing to let her go.

  Sharp pain shot through her chest. Leaving Cristian would be painful. She didn’t want to venture into the world alone. It would be so much easier with him at her back, offering silent support.