HOT SEAL Target

by Lynn Raye Harris

  Chapter Eleven

  Blade got a text from Ian Black about an hour into the party.

  It’s good intel. Not a smoking gun, but good. Need more.

  Blade clenched the phone in his hand and gritted his teeth. Then he shot a text back. Working on it.

  Except what the fuck was he working on? Working on not losing his goddamn mind when Hunter Halliday tried to drag Quinn away for a quick blow job, which she clearly didn’t want to give, before their guests arrived.

  Hell, it wasn’t so much the idea of Quinn sucking the man’s dick—though he didn’t like it—as it was the idea the bastard had said it in front of him. Totally disrespecting his wife, as if she were a whore he paid for her services and not the woman he’d married.

  Sex was personal and private. It wasn’t the kind of thing you talked about in front of someone who was supposed to be an employee—and a stranger. He was fucking pissed that the man had done that to her. She deserved respect and dignity, and Halliday didn’t allow her either one.

  And then there’d been the look in her eyes. That frightened, disgusted, panicked look that said she didn’t want to be alone with her husband under any circumstances.

  What the hell was Blade supposed to do about that? There wasn’t anything he could do. He’d stood there and told himself not to drag the motherfucker off her and disable him—and he’d told himself he had no choice, that he couldn’t let her be abused that way.

  Thank God for Li-Wu and the Chens. Because he would have gone to her defense in about three point two seconds, and then the shit really would have hit the fan.

  But it hadn’t, and the moment had passed. He needed to get over it and do the work he was here to do.

  Blade stayed in the shadows, observing the guests. He sipped club soda with lime and made mental notes about the people here. They looked like your typical rich people. Richard Jenkins came about a half an hour after the party started. Blade knew from the dossier that the man had recently moved to Hong Kong to take over Halliday’s operations here. He had an ex-wife and a twenty-year-old daughter who’d been in college but dropped out a few months ago. The divorce was fairly recent as well, and it hadn’t gone smoothly. The ex blamed Jenkins’s work for causing them to grow apart.

  Blade’s parents had worked together for years, and it hadn’t stopped them from falling apart, so maybe there was something else at work in Jenkins’s marriage as well. Not that Blade cared, but Jenkins seemed to watch his boss quite a lot when the other man wasn’t looking. Like maybe there was some resentment there. Or maybe it was just the general dislike that Hunter Halliday seemed to provoke from those who knew him well.

  Eventually Blade’s attention moved on. When a new man entered the gathering, four other men following him, the mood in the room shifted. Blade perked up at that.

  Now this man—this man—was somebody to be reckoned with. He didn’t smile. He didn’t look pleased. When a server approached him, he waved her off. He didn’t drink, didn’t eat. He glared.

  Hunter Halliday seemed to sense the man’s presence because his head lifted from where he held court with a group at one end of the room. A moment later he was moving toward the newly arrived men. He smiled and held out his hand. The other man took it, but not with any great pleasure. The four men with him didn’t offer their hands at all.

  Blade recognized a triad kingpin when he saw one. But which triad? Or did it matter?

  Hunter ushered the man away from the party, toward his office, talking the whole time. Blade slipped from the shadows, casually, and followed. One of the men shut the office door as soon as they passed inside. Blade pulled out his phone, calling up the camera inside Hunter’s office.

  He could see Halliday, the four men who were clearly the hired help, and the boss. He turned on the sound and listened.

  “Where is my money, Halliday?”

  “It’s coming, Mr. Shan. As soon as I get my share. I told you that.”

  “You borrowed a lot of money to make this happen. The interest is compounding as we speak.”

  “I know—and I’ll pay it all back. But first I have to sell these terminals to the US military. Once they’re in place, the money will flow.”

  Blade frowned. Money would flow? Why? The deal with the military was already done, but Halliday wouldn’t have received payment yet. The promise of payment, however, should have been enough to loosen any credit problems he had. The US government didn’t typically rescind contracts once they’d been awarded. Not without gross misconduct on the part of the contractor.

  “Only if the information is worthwhile,” Shan said.

  “It will be. It’s the US fucking military.”

  “Asia Sun is unproven. And so are you.”

  “Yes, but Beijing approves of the partnership.”

  “But Beijing hasn’t provided the money for your operation. I have. And I’m beginning to have doubts. Especially since you missed your first interest payment.”

  Halliday held out both hands in a placating gesture. “Shan, I’ll get the money. I swear.”

  “When?”

  “In a few weeks.”

  Shan shook his head emphatically. “No, not a few weeks. Tonight. You will transfer the money tonight.”

  Halliday was still trying to make a deal. The fucker was stupid. “A week.”

  “Tonight. Or your lovely wife could be the first casualty.”

  Blade’s gut twisted.

  Halliday shrugged. “Kill her then. It won’t get your money any quicker.”

  Shan frowned. “You seriously goad me?”

  “I’m not goading you. I just don’t have the money yet.”

  Shan snorted. “Fucking American billionaire. Such a joke. You can’t even touch your money—how can you be a billionaire?”

  Halliday puffed up. “I am. Forbes ranked me. But I don’t keep my money in cash. I keep it in assets—and I need time to liquidate.”

  Shan made a circuit of the room. Casually. Coolly. He stopped and tapped his fingers on the desk. “And how much are you worth dead, Mr. Halliday?”

  Hunter straightened. Indignant. “If you kill me, you won’t get anything.”

  “Nothing except the satisfaction of killing you.”

  “But is that satisfaction worth more than cash?”

  Shan lifted an eyebrow. “Sometimes. Maybe not this time.” He jerked his head at one of the enforcers he’d brought with him. The man stalked forward as Hunter looked puzzled. And then he put his hand on Hunter’s shoulder, so friendly like, before hauling back and punching the man in the gut.

  Halliday doubled over, wheezing and coughing, and the man turned to kick him in the kidney. He collapsed onto the floor, too out of breath to scream, too much in pain to defend himself. Blade didn’t move a muscle to help—it wouldn’t do any good anyway, plus he didn’t like the man. Hunter Halliday was an arrogant son of a bitch who could use a good ass kicking.

  The man bent and inserted a piece of paper into Halliday’s fist.

  “You will send the money tonight,” Shan said. “The information is in your hand. Send it, or you will not see the sunrise.”

  Quinn stood in the bathroom in her underwear, her gown hung neatly on a hanger, and stared at her body in the mirror. She’d had such a love/hate relationship with this body over the years. It had been so lovely and flexible when she’d been a kid. In her teenage years, it hadn’t stopped growing and she hadn’t figured out how to make it. She’d been painfully shy and she’d eaten for comfort.

  As a young woman, she’d been so unhappy that she’d finally decided to do something about it. She’d viewed enough television shows on drastic weight loss to believe she could do it too. Of course she’d done her research and started off exercising and trying to eat better. She’d fallen off the wagon many times, but she’d always gotten back on.

  It had taken finding a gym that encouraged her as well as a lot of hard workouts and struggling, but she’d ended up with this body here. The one that
was thin and muscled and felt like it could do anything.

  And yet she still let Hunter make her feel like shit. Why did she do that?

  She reached in to turn on the shower, but a knock at her door sent her heart diving to the floor. Was it Hunter? Was he back so soon? Before the party had even ended, he’d left the building. A meeting, he’d told her. A very important meeting.

  He’d only told her so she could disseminate the information to their guests, not because he truly cared if she knew where he was going. But appearances were everything to Hunter and he’d want their guests to know he was such an important man he had to dash out for a meeting.

  Even if it wasn’t true.

  Quinn hadn’t known if it was true or not, but she’d been relieved that he was going. If he had other things to do, he wouldn’t remember his threat to her earlier.

  The knock sounded again, more insistent this time, and her heart crashed into her ribs. Maybe he’d remembered after all. She dragged on her robe and called out, “Just a minute!”

  Then she hurried to the door, which she’d locked out of habit, and sucked in a breath. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Blade.” His voice was low, urgent, and she tugged the door open to meet his hard, dark eyes. He was fully dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with a light jacket and a backpack slung over one arm.

  Her stomach dropped. “You’re leaving?”

  He pushed into the room, past her, and closed the door. Then he dropped the backpack on the floor. “Yes. And so are you. Get dressed, Quinn. There’s no time to waste.”

  Her feet wouldn’t move as her brain rushed through all the possibilities. He was leaving and he wanted her to go with him. She wanted to go with him too. But what was this? Why was he running in the middle of the night, and was it the best way to go? Couldn’t they simply go to the airport in the middle of the day when they were on an approved outing?

  “Quinn. Now,” he ordered.

  “But… why?”

  He came over and put his hands on her shoulders, squeezed. “Listen to me, honey. Hunter has gotten involved with some very bad people. People who have no qualms threatening your life in order to get what they want from him. We have to go because they’re coming for you. I’m trying to save your life. I need you to do what I say.”

  Her throat had gone utterly dry. She blinked up at him, both terrified and certain she was safe so long as he was around. “Okay,” she whispered.

  He let her go and she stumbled over to her drawers, dragging out fresh underwear. She went to the closet and pushed the door to, quickly stripping out of the underwear that went beneath the gown and putting on her everyday stuff. Then she grabbed a pair of black leggings and a long-sleeved, lightweight jersey T-shirt, dragging it over her head. She also grabbed a jacket; then she snatched a pair of cross-trainers for her feet.

  “Do I need to take anything else?” she asked as she hurried over to sit on a chair near the bed so she could put the shoes on.

  “If you have a small tote or a backpack, grab a couple of shirts and some underwear and toiletries. Anything you can grab quick, okay?”

  She nodded, her throat tight. She grabbed a Louis Vuitton tote that she stuffed with socks, panties, a sports bra, and some lightweight T-shirts and more leggings. She also rushed to the bathroom to grab a toothbrush and paste. Her purse with her phone and ID were beside the bed, so she shouldered it and slung the tote over her other shoulder.

  “What now?”

  “Now we go.”

  “What about Li-Wu? I should say goodbye to him.”

  “No. It’s not safe. If he knows you’re leaving, he could inform someone.”

  “He wouldn’t,” she gasped.

  “I like him too, Quinn, but the truth is you don’t know what anyone’s motivations are or where their choke points are. He might because he has to. And he might because someone forces him, so it’s better if he doesn’t know.”

  It hurt to think such a thing, but she understood. “Okay.”

  Blade switched off the light, plunging them into darkness. It took a few moments for things to start to resolve in her line of vision. He pulled the door open and stood there, listening. Then he turned back to her.

  “Follow me. Hold my jacket and don’t say a word. Whatever I tell you to do, you do it. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  The apartment was dark and still as they ghosted through. The party had only been over for about an hour now. The caterers had cleaned up, the servers were gone, and everything was back to normal. In the morning, there wouldn’t be anything to even indicate there’d been a party. That was the way Hunter liked it. Throw a shindig and then clean it all up and put everything back to normal the moment it was over.

  Unlike the parties she’d attended in college, where drunken students still sprawled on couches and floors the next morning and beer bottles were everywhere.

  Blade led her to the elevator. When the doors whooshed open, the light was a shock compared to the darkness they’d been moving in. She squinted as she followed him onto the elevator.

  She was surprised when the elevator opened onto the garage level. As if sensing her confusion, he held up a set of keys.

  “You’re stealing the Rolls?” she whispered.

  He put a finger to his lips. “No.”

  She stayed behind him, close behind him, as they traversed the sea of automobiles. Finally one chirped, and she realized he’d pressed the button to unlock it. It was a Toyota. Definitely not one of Hunter’s vehicles.

  They got inside and Blade started the car as she fastened her seat belt.

  “Whose car is this?” she asked.

  He glanced at her. “A friend’s.”

  “You didn’t steal it from Li-Wu did you?” Not that she even knew if Li-Wu had a car since he stayed in the apartment while they were in residence.

  “Of course not.” He paused. “But I would if it was the only way out.”

  “What’s going on, Blade?” she asked as he eased out of the spot and put the car into Drive.

  “I told you. Your husband is involved with some bad people. He made a deal with the mafia, and they’re leaning on him because he hasn’t paid up yet.”

  Shock throbbed through her system. “The mafia? But why? He’s a rich man. He doesn’t need the mafia.”

  “How do you think he got rich in the first place? Hunter Halliday isn’t precisely a model citizen. He’s had help—investors, enforcers, inside information—that have gotten him where he is today.”

  “And the mafia threatened me?”

  The glance he threw her was deadly serious. “Yes.”

  “Why? I don’t know anything.”

  “Because you’re his wife, Quinn. Because they think he cares if something happens to you. It’s called leverage.”

  Quinn shivered and rubbed her arms. “He doesn’t care. He cares about appearances, like if I try to divorce him, but he doesn’t care if I get killed. He’d be the tragic widower then. He’d probably enjoy the sympathy.”

  “You aren’t dying. You have me, and I’m not letting that happen.”

  She swung her gaze to his profile. He was handsome, like always, but there was more to him now than there had been when she’d known him as kids. There was a hardness. A darkness that said that while there might be scary things after her, he was even scarier.

  “And I thought Hunter only hired you to keep me from running away,” she murmured.

  “I’m sure he did. But what he might not have realized was that he also hired the best protector he could find.”

  “I’m glad it’s you. I don’t know that I would trust anyone else.”

  They emerged from the garage. He flipped on the signal and sat waiting for traffic to clear. It was nearly two a.m., but Hong Kong was still alive with people.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you, Quinn.”

  She shivered, in a good way this time. “I know… What happens when Hunter comes home and I’m gone? Will he thi
nk I’m dead or that I ran away?”

  Blade’s hands flexed on the wheel for a second. “Honestly? I’m not sure he’s coming home.”

  “I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”

  “I’m saying that Hunter has more than one enemy who isn’t pleased with him right about now.”

  “It’s not in his nature to hide though. He’ll try to spin it. That’s what he does. No matter how bad it looks, he always comes out smelling like a rose.”

  Blade didn’t look at her. “Not this time.”

  She wasn’t sure why, but her heart skipped. “What exactly are you saying? That he’s going to pay this time? That he won’t get away with it?” He didn’t say anything, and her frustration swelled. “Don’t hide things from me, Blade. I have a right to know.”

  “Yeah, I guess you do… He’s not coming back, Quinn. Not this time. He can’t.”

  “Can’t?”

  He turned to meet her gaze head-on. “He can’t because he’s dead.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Blade hadn’t wanted to tell her about that just yet, but he wasn’t going to lie to her either. Hunter Halliday was definitely dead. Ian Black’s people had found him with a bullet through the heart. Dead as fuck. They didn’t know if it was Shan or someone else who’d done it.

  Still, Blade wasn’t going to tell Quinn the details. He hadn’t liked the man, and it was clear their marriage wasn’t a happy one at all. But she must have cared for him once, and that was the part that Blade had to tiptoe around. There was no need to upset her any more than necessary.

  She gaped at him as he drove. He wasn’t sure if she was going to cry. Just when he was beginning to worry about her, she started to laugh. Shock coursed through him.

  But she kept laughing until tears streamed down her face.

  “Quinn?”

  She waved a hand. “S-s-s-sorry.” She giggled.

  “It’s okay,” he said, because what else could he say?

  “I-I d-don’t know wh-why—” She bit her lip and shivered hard—then she sobbed.