by Marie Harte
Satisfaction Delivered
A Triggerman Inc. Story
Marie Harte
Satisfaction Delivered
A Triggerman Inc. story
Three assassins and a baby…are up against a cold-blooded murderer.
Hammer won’t rest until he finds the woman who betrayed the team, who betrayed him. From the first, he hadn’t welcomed his feelings for the supposed nurse. After what she did, he feels both foolish and angry, falling for a pretty face. The need for revenge is all-consuming—he’s not known as the Destroyer for nothing.
The conspiracy behind a baby found on his friend’s doorstep is narrowing. Assassins have targeted Hammer and the organization he works for, and no one is safe. Then the woman who betrayed him returns, offering help. But can he trust her when it’s more than just his love and life on the line?
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TRIGGERMAN INC.
CONTRACT SIGNED
SECRETS UNSEALED
SATISFACTION DELIVERED
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and plot points stem from the writer’s imagination. They are fictitious and not to be interpreted as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locations or organizations is entirely coincidental.
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ISBN-13: 978-1642920307
Satisfaction Delivered
Copyright © June 2019 by Marie Harte
No Box Books
Cover by Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs
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All Rights Are Reserved. None of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for reviews or promotion.
http://marieharte.com
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Thank You
The Lost Locket Excerpt
To Hunt a Sainte Excerpt
Also by Marie
About the Author
One
Salem, Oregon
The Destroyer watched his quarry evade her attackers with ease and sat back to enjoy the show. Stationed down a darkened alley, sitting in a black SUV, he had tapped into her opponents’ surveillance system and hit pay dirt. Finally.
After three months he’d found her. Three months of trails that went nowhere, lying informants, and mounting frustration. It had taken him a while, but he’d found a single thread, a contact who had heard rumors of a large bounty placed on one of the Business’s contract killers.
At first, Destroyer had assumed the contract related to his current mission—to find out who the hell wanted him terminated. Granted, he hadn’t made many friends as an assassin, but his enemies typically winded up dead to avoid such acts of revenge. Destroyer, though a large man, could move with stealth. His jobs had a hundred percent success rate because he never considered a job done until he’d finished it. Period.
Or at least, his jobs used to end well. Eight months ago, someone had abandoned a baby on his buddy Ice’s doorstep. Naturally, Ice refused to take the credit, claiming the father had to be either Destroyer or Shadow. They had all been on the same op down in Mexico, right about the time the kid must have been conceived and had similar enough features that a one-time bed partner might have gotten them confused.
And so, this crazy circus and all its monkeys had landed on Destroyer’s back. With Ice and Shadow currently playing house and falling in love with their women, it was up to Destroyer to fix this mess before his new friends paid the price.
Hell, he didn’t have much to lose but his job, and he liked it that way. Women were trouble.
Case in point, the lying, betraying, backstabbing woman currently making dead fools of the men sent after her. Destroyer still couldn’t be sure if they were meant to capture or kill her, but it seemed his quarry didn’t plan to accept either outcome.
He watched on his laptop as she decimated the last two after her, putting bullets into them. She made little noise, the silencer an effective measure. After searching all six of them, she frowned and looked around.
In the dim light of the warehouse, she looked tired. Violet Leon—what she’d called herself months ago when she’d pretended to be a nurse to help his friend—still wore her hair dark, the silky strands pulled back into a ponytail. She had shadows under her brown eyes, and her complexion seemed more wan than the warm beige he remembered. She wore head to toe black with combat boots, a thin down jacket, and gloves for warmth.
He’d give a lot to see what she carried in the backpack strapped to her and decided to put his backup plan into action. He’d learned from the conniver not to trust her, and he wanted to see where she went next, who she’d contact, if anyone.
Violet used to belong to the same organization he did. They called it the Business, an organization that recruited young boys and girls society threw away. The Business turned them into hardened killers then used them to fulfill contracts they took from the government and other concerned citizens bent on making the world a better place. Or so Destroyer had always believed.
Lately, with this baby nonsense, his handler not telling him everything, and several betrayals they hadn’t seen coming, he wondered just how far the corruption all around them burrowed? A few rogues, or a corrupt house of assassins rotten at the root? But the thought that he couldn’t trust his handler, Big Joe, the one man in all the world he’d put his complete faith into, twisted him up inside.
“Fuck this,” he muttered and quietly left the vehicle. He walked down the shadowed alley and entered the abandoned warehouse around the back. Violet wouldn’t wait long, but he had a feeling she’d wait for him. He’d left enough clues at her various stops that she had to know he was after her.
“Yo, Violet. It’s me. We need to talk.” He stopped by the last two men she’d taken care of, noticing the clean kills, and grunted. “Not bad. Now quit playing around. Answer my questions and I’m out of here.” Nothing but silence, but he felt her presence keenly. “Then you can go back to lying and deceiving other people who care about you.” There. That should do it.
A soft sound behind him had him turning slowly. He faced Violet’s cold eyes and stared down the barrel of a Heckler & Koch MP5SD, because of course Nurse Ratched would have a silenced submachine gun.
“Nice weapon.”
She snorted. “Please. I took this off one of these idiots. I prefer knives.” She bared her teeth at him in some semblance of a smile.
Asshole that he was, he started to get turned on. From the first, he’d been attracted to her, and that was when he’d thought she was nothing more than a nurse hired by his handler. She’d been funny and sarcastic, built on lean lines, strong and sexy with all the curves that appealed to a man like him. Destroyer crushed softness. He could handle tough, no-holds-barred strength in any form.
But the lies… He understood the need for them in his occupation. But some lines one didn’t cross.
“Of course you prefer knives. And needles.” He huffed in disgust. “A tool for those too weak to stomach real wetwork.” He gave her a dismissive onceover and wanted to laugh at the scowl she sent him.<
br />
“That needle seemed to go through that thick neck of yours, didn’t it?” She took a step closer.
That’s it, sweetheart. Come to me. One step at a time until I get my hands around your pretty neck.
“Don’t think I’m stupid, Hammer.” She scoffed. “I’m not getting close enough for you to disarm me. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
He didn’t like her using his name. Hammer was a name his friends and family called him. Nearly getting them shot had lost her the right to be close. “Why? What’s your play in all this?”
A hint of his frustration must have leaked through, because he saw her soften a fraction.
“You don’t understand. This isn’t about you, Noel, or Deacon.” His fellow assassins, Ice and Shadow. “It’s about that baby and the man who wants you all dead.”
“I’m listening.”
She considered him. The weapon seemed to lower, though she continued to point it at him.
“Look,” he tried. “I’ll share what I know if you do the same. I don’t want you.” Was it his imagination, or did something flicker in her eyes? “I want the person or persons who keep targeting us and the baby. You could give a shit about us. I get that. But the kid is innocent.”
She blew out a breath. “I know that.”
“Then talk.” He shifted his gaze over her shoulder and widened his eyes.
“I’m not falling for—”
A piece of concrete fell behind her, and when she turned to confront danger, he was on her.
Violet was good. She didn’t sit still, had a wiry strength, and knew exactly where to hit to incapacitate a man.
But Hammer was better. He had bulk and muscle she never would, and he’d had the same training she had. Plus, he didn’t believe she really wanted to kill him. He quickly tossed the gun away and avoided her many kicks and punches, doing his best not to hurt her until he could get her where he wanted her. That their grappling excited him only made him that much more focused. Time to end their tussle so he could get needed information out of her and be done with this stupid obsession.
Sure, she might be a liar and a killer. She’d also had plenty of chances to kill him before and hadn’t harmed him or his friends. Not physically at least.
Something jabbed his neck, and a warm trickle of blood seeped into his shirt.
But then, he’d been wrong before.
* * *
Violet swore as the giant pain in her ass threatened to undo all her hard work. She’d been doing her best to get answers, and that meant sometimes letting the bad guys close. Unfortunately, this team of lame assassins had orders to rough her up before bringing her in. She’d overheard a few side comments from the two in the back before she’d slit their throats.
Nope, sorry fellas. Rape and torture are not on my agenda today.
Although a little grab and tickle with the sexy, hard-nosed contractor she’d been doing her best to forget about might do the trick and relieve some of the tension plaguing her.
Too bad Hamilton Ashton Montgomery III—Hammer to his friends—was such a stick in the mud about that incident with the drugging and the lying and that whole part about almost getting his friends killed. She’d had no intention of letting anyone harm the gang back on Bainbridge Island, but she couldn’t tell him that. Not if she wanted to find out what the hell Angel had really been up to.
Jesus. The woman Violet had idolized, one of the best contractors in the Business, ever, had sunk so low, so fast. How? Why? What could make Angel lie and kill friends with no remorse? And worse, have a baby and not know who had fathered the little guy?
So many questions. But Hammer wouldn’t answer her unless she made him, and it killed a little bit of the warmth inside her to have to resort to more deception with him. Thoughts of his smile, his sense of humor, and the way he looked at the world still made her long for things she could never have.
And as she lay over him, woolgathering, the bastard was slowly palming a knife from under his jacket, his other hand on her waist.
She could feel the heat of that touch all over her traitorous body.
I’m so stupid.
She pushed the plunger on the needle embedded in his throat, not giving him all of the drug, just enough to keep him groggy while she made her escape.
“Witch,” he mumbled, his tension starting to ease as the sedative took effect.
It couldn’t be helped. She couldn’t let him follow her. Not now.
He grumbled, “Freakin’ Nurse Ratched.”
She grimaced. Referencing her to some crazy nurse in an old movie still annoyed her. “Easy, big guy. I’ll stash you somewhere so they can’t find you. But Hammer, you have to stop following me. I’m getting closer. Look, I’ll find out the deal with Noel Jr.”
“Calling him Little Dee now.” He blinked slowly and said something else she couldn’t make out. Violet removed the needle, concerned she’d overconcentrated the dosage. He shouldn’t be fading so fast, and she didn’t get the impression he was faking, either.
“What?” She leaned closer.
Then he moved.
Hammer grabbed her close. She’d let her emotions cloud her thinking, and now she’d pay the price. Dead before she could find the perpetrators behind the conspiracy that had changed her entire life.
Except…Hammer didn’t stab her or strangled her. The baffling man kissed her.
Plastered now to his solid body, she felt every ridge and muscle under her. And it was worse than she’d imagined. They fit.
Perfectly.
Hard and huge, he rocked up between her legs as he kissed her with ravenous hunger.
Shocked and drugged on the same desire he must be feeling, she couldn’t help returning the kiss, undone by his sexy groan when he penetrated her mouth with his tongue.
Of course Hammer had to taste like chocolate and mint, two of her favorite things in life. His mouth worked her into a lather in no time at all, her supposed resistance to seduction nonexistent. At least, with this man.
He kissed her as if he’d never stop.
And insane as she knew it to be, she let him, knowing she’d never get another chance at this kind of passion, not with the way her luck had been heading.
When he started to ease back, his eyes closed, his breathing deepening, she realized full well her folly and prayed she’d never repeat the experience. Sex was one thing. But she actually liked Hammer, and she had a feeling anything physical with him would be emotionally binding as well.
Violet didn’t do emotional closeness.
She started to pull away when he gripped her tighter, and she wondered if he’d been playing her all along.
His eyes opened, and he smiled. “Oh yeah, you’re in me now, Vi. So fuckin’ sweet…” As he drifted off, she raised herself on shaky arms and hurried to stand.
Trembling, and all from a kiss from a half-drugged contractor. I am losing it, for sure. She shook her head and put her game face back on. Then she did her best to drag the stubborn bastard to the shadows, covering him up with some old, broken down cardboard boxes.
She watched his chest rise and fall, saw the handsome if battered face of her enemy—an enemy he has to be if I’m to figure out what to do about the baby, she reminded herself—and sighed.
Some girls dreamed of finding their Prince Charming. Of having that perfect kiss, of knowing, just once, what bliss might taste like.
Violet…she was just hoping to survive until tomorrow, taking her life one violent step at a time.
Two
Violet set the suite on lockdown. She might be on the run, but she had no intention of giving up her remaining few luxuries. After so much time spent going from shithole to shithole, she considered a nice hotel a must-have. Her life had been hell for the past three months, having to stay one step ahead of Hammer while doing her best to be accessible to the villains behind Angel’s death and the baby.
She settled into her bath, her gun and knives within reach, and wondered where to go next
.
Angel, her mentor and trainer at the Business, had shown her everything, from how to survive her tormented childhood to how to succeed where bigger and badder normally meant success.
Like Violet, Angel had stealth and speed on her side, not brawn. Intelligent, savvy, and beautiful, Angel had proven to be a top contractor in no time. The two of them had been close, sharing so much more than life experience. They’d had real trust, and Violet had had so little of that in her life.
And then three years ago, Angel had left the Business. Busy with ops and thriving on a course of danger and intrigue, Vi had been too intent on her own life and climb up the professional ladder to notice until it had been too late. Angel had disappeared.
And nine months ago, the blasted woman had apparently given birth.
God. Seeing Little Dee, as Hammer called him, had been a shock. The baby was the spitting image of her sister, from his precious face to his deep brown eyes. Beautiful and vibrant and the only thing remaining of Angelina Leon Vasquez.
Vi squeezed her eyes shut, surprised she could still cry after so much time. But the knowledge she really was alone in the world hurt, deep down. Like an ache that never went away. She rubbed the area of her heart, wishing she didn’t feel so alone.
Wishing she could be like so many normal people, falling in love, having a family, making a nice life working nine to five until she retired and traveled to see her grandchildren.
