Payne: A Bad Boy Romance: (With bonus book Mine)

by Kim Linwood

  A fist cuffs me lightly in the back of the head, and then holds me down while they work the knot behind my neck. When the gag comes out, I hack like a cat with a hairball, trying to bring a little moisture back to my mouth.

  “Want a little water, honey?” the newcomer asks.

  Play it tough? Or practical? Practical wins. “Sure.”

  “Too fucking bad, and before you ask, there won’t be any mints on the pillows either.”

  They all laugh.

  With a sigh, I straighten as much as I can. “You’re making a huge mistake. I’m a police officer.”

  “Sure you are. A police officer who’s wanted in connection to the shooting this morning, not to mention a person of interest in the conspiracy to assassinate an alderman of our fair city. If you were to end up in a ditch somewhere, how hard to do think they’d work to figure out what happened? One less bad cop in the world.” My shock must show through before I school my reaction, because he tsks at me. “You didn’t know? You can’t lie down with dogs and not expect to catch a few fleas. And you know what the beautiful thing is? Your boyfriend’s probably long gone.” He pauses to let it sink in, before he continues with a gloat, “But for your sake, you better hope he isn’t. Personally, I never liked Tony so it’s no skin off my back, but I’m looking forward to getting the all clear to do whatever the fuck we want with you.”

  “Yeah! Like shoot you,” Whiner interjects. “Hey! I was just sayin’.”

  “Shut up,” Vinny snaps.

  Payne’s alive.

  And these guys don’t have him. My brain ignores the idiots and focuses like a laser on that one tidbit of new information.

  Alive. It gives me courage. “So what do you want? I seem to have misplaced my wallet.”

  “Hah! And funny too! What a catch you are.” The new guy laughs, a harsh, ugly sound. “I have in my hand your cell phone, and we’re going to play a networking game. If loverboy answers and agrees to play nice, you get to live—for a while, at least. If he doesn’t, then nobody’s going to care what happens to pretty little Nora.”

  How much do I trust Payne? How well do I really know him? He might think he loves me, but does that mean he’ll come for me? It’s a lot of risk, and he might just take off and later feel really bad when he thinks back on the one he let get killed.

  Even if he does come, they’ll just shoot him on sight.

  I need to do everything I can to save my own ass. “Not everyone’s going to believe I was involved, and I know the alderman will vouch for me with the FBI.”

  “Trabucco?” He snorts. “He looks out for number one. He’ll go along with whatever they tell him, and you aren’t the only one who knows people.” He tsks again. “It’s so hard for a young female officer to make a name for herself. You really shouldn’t have fucked your boss to get ahead. It makes it so easy to believe you might cut corners in other ways too.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I can’t even wrap my mind around what he’s getting at. “I’ve never even dated anyone on the force.”

  “And it’ll be your word against his, but first, let’s make a little call.” His breath is on my face, the rank scent of stale coffee and nicotine floating behind sticky peppermint. “Oh, how cute. Payne in my ass. Under different circumstances I think I might have liked you.” He must’ve hit speakerphone, because I hear it ringing.

  “If he doesn’t answer, I get to shoot her, right?”

  “Shut up!” we all shout at Whiner.

  33

  Payne

  My palm rubs a slow circle over the surface of my rifle case. We’re back to basics. Just me and my gun, with one clusterfuck of a problem to solve.

  Closed for renovations, the sign outside the parking garage had said, but with the boom stuck open, there was nothing to prevent me from driving in, the damaged back of my car rattling like I’d just gotten married. There’s no power, and with the facade curtained off, the interior is as dark and cold as my mood, but at least I’m not out in the open.

  Just now, that suits me perfectly.

  Normally, I have a plan. Every little detail mapped out and accounted for. Nothing left to chance. Except this time, I was rushed, and I fucked up. I made it so goddamn easy for them. My girlfriend stolen—and potentially shot—right out of the back of my car.

  For once, I’m aching to shoot someone. It’s not business anymore. This time it’s personal. There’s just nobody to aim at.

  Calling Vito’s Pizzeria got me nowhere. Not that I expected to talk to Tony, considering I blew his brains out all over the pavement this morning, but I was hoping somebody would answer.

  How can I rescue Nora if I don’t even know where the fuck she is?

  As if in answer, the screen on my phone lights up with her name. My first reaction is relief, but it’s short lived. The chances of it being her are slim to none, but it’s something.

  I swipe the screen and hold the phone to my ear. “Where the fuck is she?”

  “Payne!” It’s the slick voice of a car salesman, with Italian undertones. “Good to talk to you. I was just telling our girl here that I hoped you’d answer. She wasn’t so sure.”

  She’s not our girl.

  She’s mine.

  “Put her on or I hang up now.”

  “Feeling touchy today? Me too, because this morning I heard that a coworker of mine got shot in the head.” The voice goes from oily slick to a low growl. “Not that we were exactly close, if you know what I mean, but it does make a guy nervous about his exit package.”

  “Five, four, three—”

  “Payne?” Nora’s voice is clipped and nervous, but just hearing her speak slides into me like the music that’s been missing since she was taken. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. More importantly, are you?” If she isn’t, God help them all.

  “More or less. I—”

  “There, see?” As her voice is cut short, the car salesman comes back. “We’re one big happy family over here. Or we will be once you get here.”

  I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white. “And why would I want to do that?”

  “Because we have someone you want, and I think you’d like her back before I let my friend here return the favor for the bullet she tapped him with.”

  The thought of what they might do to Nora makes my throat go tight. I push the thought away. The last thing I need right now is to make rash decisions.

  They’re asking for an exchange, one that I don’t see myself getting out of with my head still attached to my shoulders. “I’d be an idiot to walk into whatever welcome you have waiting for me. And I’m no idiot.”

  “Up to you. She’s got an hour.” He rattles off an address on the northwest side of the city. “Come alone and unarmed. For that long, your girl will be relatively safe and in one piece. After that? Things might get a little ugly.”

  I hang up, the decision I have to make crushing down on my chest with the weight of an elephant. Death is a constant risk in my line of work. I came to terms with that years ago, but I have no intention of going before my time, either. Still, people die. It’s a fact of life.

  I just don’t want it to be a fact of Nora’s.

  If I go in to rescue her, there’s a good chance it will be the last thing I ever do.

  As I draw a slow breath, a calm comes over me. I’m okay with that. I’ll do my best to live to fight another day, but if my life is what it takes to keep her safe, then it’s a price I’m willing to pay.

  34

  Nora

  The whiner takes a long, loud gulp of whatever he’s drinking, slurping loudly and smacking his lips. His throat makes dull gulps as he swallows. Not allowed to shoot me yet, he’s apparently decided to torture me in other ways.

  My mouth is so dry after having that cloth shoved in it that I’m surprised I’m not spitting sand, but I refuse to beg. I’m not that desperate yet. From what the man told Payne, I’ll either be free or dead before things get tha
t bad. My money’s on dead, but I won’t give up until I have to.

  After the phone call, no one's really said anything. The oily guy, who apparently just dropped by to make demands, is gone, leaving me with Tweedledee and Tweedledum. I tried coaxing information out of them, but when they threatened to gag me again, I shut up.

  Unless something changes, I don’t see how I can get myself out of this. Will Payne show up? My heart has all its chips on yes, but logically, I know it would be his death sentence in exchange for a woman who threatened to kill him herself earlier today.

  Even if he did come, there’s no way they’re letting me walk out of here alive. They seem to have the leave no witnesses thing down pat. Payne might be a one man army, but there’s still only one of him.

  I wish I could tell him that if he does walk away, I won’t blame him. No matter what he’s done, I know in my heart that he deserves to find happiness, even if it isn’t with me.

  I don’t want to be the reason he dies.

  Without a clock, time is meaningless. It feels like an eternity, but the deadline was an hour. I close my eyes—it’s not like I can see anything behind the blindfold anyway—and concentrate on flexing my hands and feet to keep them from falling asleep.

  How embarrassing would it be to get the opportunity to run, only to fall over because my feet were all pins and needles?

  New footsteps approach, this time with the hard slap of dress shoes on tile. I try not to show my anxiety. Either they’re here for me, or they aren’t. Feigning indifference is one of the few things I have control over right now. The door opens and shuts, and I know whoever he is, he’s in here with us.

  “Well, well. I wish I could say I’m surprised to see you here. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  My eyes snap open and my head turns to follow the voice. It can't be, but I’d recognize it anywhere.

  Captain Palmieri.

  “What? You… but—” I might’ve had my suspicions about him looking the other way, but is he actually working with them?

  He laughs. “You couldn’t have just kept your head down and done what you were told, could you? Didn’t your daddy warn you? I’m sure he must’ve, but no, you had to go sticking your nose where it didn’t belong.”

  “I don't understand.” This is the worst hidden camera show ever, or at least feels like it.

  My blindfold is yanked off, along with a few painful strands of hair. The sudden bright light is like fire, burning my retinas. I clench my eyes shut, holding until the floating spots go away. After so long in the dark, the harsh glare of fluorescent lights is so sharp it hurts.

  I slowly reopen my eyes, but I wish I hadn’t. The first thing I see is Palmieri’s face, so close I recoil and my chair rocks backwards. He's crouched in front of me, examining my face carefully with a bitter smile under his mustache. “You really don't have a clue, do you?”

  All I’ve got is a squinty glare for him.

  He barks a laugh. “And here I thought you applied to my department for some sort of pathetic, personal investigation about your father. Apparently you’re just as naive as you look.” His eyebrows rise mockingly. “Now I almost feel bad. But, I suppose you’d have gotten yourself into trouble sooner or later, either way. “

  “What does Dad have to do with this?” Asking makes me sound vulnerable, and I hate it, but I need to know and this might be my only chance.

  “Nothing, but everything.” Palmieri laughs. “That’s so cryptic and melodramatic, isn’t it? Your father and I worked together for years. He must’ve told you.”

  I nod. When I applied for Dad’s old department, it hadn’t been to solve anything. I’d just wanted to make a difference for the people my father had protected.

  Palmieri wants me to ask more. It’s written all over his smug face. Instead, I look away. By the door is a mountain of a man who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, waiting with an impatient look on his face. I’m guessing it’s Vinny, both because he doesn’t at all match up with Whiner’s voice, and because he doesn’t look like he’s been shot.

  Sorry, dude, I don’t want to be here either.

  “I’m surprised he let you apply at all,” Palmieri scoffs.

  “Newsflash. This isn’t the fifties. I didn’t have to ask first.”

  “And just look how far that attitude has gotten you. Thank goodness for progress!” His words are accompanied by a nasty sneer.

  Getting kidnapped and having my life threatened I can handle. Maybe not perfectly, but this isn’t the kind of thing you can practice so I think I deserve a break. But this? Having my superior come in and gloat, not to mention drag my father into it? It makes me want to do what they’re all probably waiting for.

  Break down in precious girly tears.

  I blink hard and ignore the tingling sensation in my nose. “Can’t you just tell me what you’re talking about? Or is this your before I kill you, Mr. Bond moment? You might want to reconsider. That never goes well for the villain.”

  “You’re so much like your old man. Honest to a fault and quick in the mouth.” The pure evil in his voice sends a shiver down my neck and makes my hair stand on end. “How’s that investigation into his shooting going?” Crouching down to put us face to face, he watches me intently.

  The investigation? “Last I heard it was…” Come to think of it, it has been a while since we’d gotten any new information.

  “Oh, come on, Keaton. Nobody is that clueless. He got shot from behind. Work with me here.”

  I glare at him. Of course we’ve wondered what happened that day, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think there was a good chance it was friendly fire. That’d explain why they were dragging their feet, but deliberate?

  Palmieri grins cruelly as he sees his poisoned dart strike home.

  My fingers clench, wanting to dig their nails in and rip that smile off his face. “Was it you? Or did you just make it happen?”

  “Po-tay-to, po-tah-to. My point is, neither of you could leave well enough alone. Stick your nose where it doesn’t belong and you pay the price. He did, and you’re about to. Some might say your price is a little higher, but then again, think of how it’ll hurt him to hear how you thought fucking me would get you a promotion, and then turned to the Mob when that didn’t work out. It’s so sad when a young life is snuffed out before its time, but you really put yourself in the line of fire. I doubt anyone’ll be surprised when all the details come out.”

  I hardly recognize the growl coming from my throat. Yanking at my binds, I try to twist out of the chair, but it only rocks precariously. There’s no give in the ropes. For the first time in my life, I understand the urge to kill someone.

  If Payne were here right now, I’d kiss him for taking care of this piece of shit. If I were holding the gun, I’d do it myself.

  “Struggle all you want. You have”—he pauses and checks his watch—“twenty minutes. If your backstabbing fuckboy actually shows up, we might just rough you up and let you go to live with the shame of your horrible choices. If not, at least you won’t have to worry about your reputation. Small mercies, right?” He pats me on the head and winks like we’re buddies. “I’ll make sure to send some nice flowers to your folks.”

  35

  Payne

  I tighten my arm until the kid’s body goes limp. Kid. Fuck, I feel old. He’s at least twenty, older than I was when I put my first bullet into a hostile.

  Slowly, I lower him to the floor without a sound. A couple slices of duct tape later, and he should keep out of trouble for a while. Bet that’ll hurt like a bitch when it comes off, but he’ll be alive to feel it. Others won’t be so lucky.

  The smallish, four-story office building looks as empty as the attached factory. At least from some quick recon. I’m not a “wing it” kinda guy, but an hour isn’t nearly enough to come up with a real plan. I work with what I’ve got.

  My feet don’t make a sound as I slip down the darkened hallway. I pause, listening for t
he guards that walked this way earlier. I almost walk right into them, but they don’t spot me in the shadows.

  “So, any plans tonight?”

  “Nah, nothing special. Janice wants me to go to that stripper movie.”

  “What’s wrong with that? Strippers sound hot.”

  “Not when they’re packing more sausage than a foot long assorted.”

  Wait for it…

  A small explosion echoes down the hall, coming from the foyer. I should know, given the care I took in placing it just so. Without even a backwards glance, both guards take off towards the sound, leaving my path clear.

  Amateurs.

  This whole setup reeks of desperation. It’s a comic book imitation of what someone thinks organized crime should look like. They probably have a horse head on ice somewhere, just waiting to be thawed out for dramatic effect.

  I move quickly, staying low and “making sweet love to the wall” as my old squad leader was fond of saying. The explosion wasn’t big enough to catch anyone’s attention outside, but it’ll sure as hell announce my arrival in the building like a massive doorbell.

  Ding dong ditch, motherfuckers.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, I check each floor out the little window in the doors. Most of the lights are off, so I’m hoping to be able to tell where they are without having to go room by room.

  When I hit the third floor and see the flicker of track lighting down the far end of the hall, I’m honestly a little surprised not to have run into anyone yet. This isn’t so much a trap as it is an engraved invitation. They know I’m coming, and I know they’re waiting for me.

  So where the hell is everyone?

  I go up one more floor. No reason to walk right into their ambush. The lights are out, but I try the door and find it open. I slide my Beretta off my hip. Nora’s Glock is still tucked away at my back, waiting to be reunited with its mistress. It’s not exactly flowers and chocolate, but I doubt she’ll mind.