Face the Music (COBRA Securities Book 9)

by Velvet Vaughn

  Tears burned Layla’s eyes. “Let her go. You wanted a trade, Mullins, and I’m right here.”

  “I’ve changed my mind. How about I just kill you instead.”

  #

  Layla’s heartbeat hammered in her ears when Mullins pointed the gun at her. She tried to telegraph to Tiffany that everything would be okay. The tears in her sister’s eyes was killing her. Just when she thought Mullins would pull the trigger, the bookcase swung open to reveal Luke, Logan, Dorian and Alex with weapons at the ready, all aimed at Mullins.

  Mullins spun around, his eyes wide. “What the hell?”

  “You so much as twitch, and you’re a dead man,” Luke stated casually as he stared down the sight of a sweet, compact, submachine gun.

  “I knew you couldn’t follow instructions,” Mullins spat at her as he hefted Tiffany in front of him for protection.

  Gunshots rang out and the door behind her burst open. Talia appeared with Hunter Malone on her heels.

  “Talia?” Mullins croaked. “You’re a Fed, too?”

  “Nope. I’m one of them.” She indicated the four men who had their guns trained on him.

  Mullins shoved his gun under Tiffany’s chin.

  Layla started to rush forward but she paused at Mullins’ demand.

  “Stay back! All of you,” He ordered, his eyes wild. “I will pull the trigger if you come any closer.”

  Tiffany whimpered and it broke Layla’s heart. “Let her go, Mullins.”

  He ignored her and dragged Tiff around the desk, careful to keep her in front of him. “Get over there, all of you.” He motioned to the corner with his gun. “Burns! Tipton!”

  “They cannot help you,” Talia told him.

  “They’re kinda dead,” Hunter finished.

  “You’re surrounded, Mullins,” Luke warned. “You’ll never get away. Turn yourself in now before anyone gets hurt. Namely, you.”

  He ignored Luke and lugged Tiffany to the door, keeping himself positioned behind her. It would be impossible for anyone to take a shot at him for fear of hitting Tiff. He was almost at the door. She had to do something. Layla sprung forward, avoiding Luke’s grasp. She held her arms in the air. “Me for her, Mullins. I’m the one you want. Let her go and take me instead.” She ignored Luke’s savage growl.

  Mullins stood in the doorway, his grin feral. “You’ve been a colossal pain in my ass from the very first moment I met you.” He jerked the gun away from Tiffany and aimed at her. “Goodbye, Layla.” He fired.

  The bullet slammed into her and she was momentarily stunned. The pain was intense. She staggered backward and fell to the ground to the sounds of Tiffany and Luke’s screams.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Tiffany was so scared, she could hardly catch her breath. She could sense Sean’s worry, intensifying hers. They’d always had a special connection. She would know if he was hurt the instant it happened. She couldn’t imagine what he was feeling right now. She’d made a horrible mistake and now she was back in her father’s house…the same house where her mother had died. She thought she might throw up the next time she saw her father again, but all she felt was anger. He’d killed her mother, tried to kill her sister. He’d abused her and her brother, maybe not so much physically as mentally, but it was still abuse. He’d never shown an ounce of love to either of them. The man was evil.

  Maybe it was from being around Kai and the people at COBRA Securities, but she felt stronger. Kai had been teaching her and Sean self-defense techniques and she itched to use them. Maybe she’d get a chance. Unfortunately, the man who grabbed her tied her hands together and as much as she’d tried, she couldn’t break free.

  Thinking of Kai made tears well. She’d been so stupid and reckless but he’d tried to save her anyway. The man had hit him hard. She prayed he was okay.

  She felt a small burst of hope when her stepfather called Layla, but now she worried that her sister would rush in to save her and her father would hurt her. Tiff couldn’t let that happen.

  She couldn’t see from under the desk, but her father and her kidnapper were arguing. She heard a loud bang from right above her and she screamed. Then her father kicked her. Her thigh throbbed from where his shoe impacted and she rubbed at the spot. Her father was now pacing and muttering to himself. If he got close enough, she could stick a foot out and trip him. Then she’d make a run for it.

  Before she could try, the door opened.

  “Well, hello daughter.”

  “Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that. Where’s Tiffany?”

  “Layla,” she screamed. Her sister was here!

  “Shut the hell up,” her father yelled and she flinched.

  Everything that happened next was a blur. Layla and her father argued and then her dad was dragging her out from under the desk. He jerked her in front of him and jammed a gun into her chin so hard, it drew blood. The bookcase swung open and men came pouring out. Luke! Tears filled her eyes. She prayed he didn’t get hurt because of her.

  Using her as a shield, her father backed out of the room. Tiff’s eyes widened when Layla stepped forward.

  “Me for her, Mullins. I’m the one you want. Let her go and take me instead.”

  Tiff frantically shook her head. If her dad got his hands on Layla, he’d kill her.

  “You have been a pain in my ass from the very first moment I met you. Goodbye, Layla.”

  Tiff’s mouth rounded in horror when her father pointed his weapon and fired. Layla’s eyes widened, her hands flying to her chest. Then she stumbled back and fell to the ground.

  “No! Layla! Oh, please, no!” She fought her father’s hold, trying to go to her sister. She wanted to plead for forgiveness, beg her not to die. But her father dragged her down the hall. She couldn’t see where they were going. Tears blurred her vision.

  When he tossed her into the car, she couldn’t brace herself with her bound hands. She hit the bump in the floorboard between the seats and fought to breathe. The car lurched forward, tossing her around. She would be battered and bruised, but it was nothing compared to the pain she felt in her heart. Layla was dead. Because of her.

  #

  Luke watched in horror as the scene played out in front of him as if in slow motion. Mullins dragging Tiffany away with a gun shoved under her chin. Tiffany’s tears as her father manhandled her. Layla walking forward to offer herself as a trade for her sister. Mullins pointing his gun and firing. Layla’s hands flying to her chest as she staggered back and crashed to the ground.

  It would replay repeatedly in his nightmares for years to come.

  “Go after them,” he ordered the others as he rushed to Layla’s side and dropped to his knees, his heart hammering in his chest. “Layla, sweetheart, can you hear me?” He gingerly lifted her shirt and fingered the area where the bullet impacted. “Honey, please open those gorgeous blue eyes. Look at me.”

  “Ow,” she whined, struggling to catch her breath. “H-hurts.”

  “I know, baby, but you shouldn’t have offered yourself to him. The man is a monster.” Thank God she wore a bullet-proof vest. The Kevlar did its job and stopped the lead before it marred her delicate skin. What would’ve happened if Mullins went for a head shot? Luke shuddered. He couldn’t even think about that. “Does it hurt to breathe? Are your ribs injured? Broken?”

  “Feels…like…baseball…bat…clocked…me.” He brushed the hair from her face as she closed her eyes and focused on inhaling. He’d been shot wearing Kevlar before and her analogy was spot-on. It did feel like being slammed in the chest with a Louisville Slugger.

  He carefully unlatched the straps to check her skin. The other agents had taken off to follow Mullins so they were alone in the study. He winced when he parted the vest. She was already starting to bruise. He lightly ran his fingers over the red welt, wishing he could take her pain for her.

  “Not broken,” she whispered.

  “You sure?”

  She opened her eyes. “Yeah, just hurts like h
eck.”

  He refastened the vest and helped her sit. Then he gingerly pulled her into his arms. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” She eased back and the tears in her eyes sucker-punched him. “We have to go after him. He’ll hurt Tiffany, I know he will. Especially if he’s cornered.”

  He helped her stand. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Mullins shoved Tiffany into the back seat of his Rolls and peeled out of the drive. He was glad he’d been thinking rationally when he had Tipton ready the car for departure. He made it out of the estate before the people chasing him even reached their vehicles.

  He dragged his sleeve over his forehead. That’d been too close. He laughed maniacally. He’d killed his stepdaughter! The thought brought euphoria through him. The look on her face when the bullet hit her had been priceless. He wished he could have stuck around to watch her corpse being shoved into a body bag but he had places to go.

  His mood soured when he thought of Talia. Beautiful, exotic Talia. He’d been prepared to give her the world. She’d been prepared to bring him down. Bitch. All women were evil. He was officially giving them up. They caused him nothing but trouble.

  He checked his rear-view mirror, happy to see that no cars were following him. Best security company in the country his ass. Ha! He’d outsmarted them all. Not even the Feds could stop him. He wheeled onto the road leading to the private airstrip and skidded to a stop, kicking up a cloud of dust.

  “I’m going to untie your hands,” he told his daughter. “You’re going to pretend like you want to be here with me. If you scream, yell, or try to run, I will shoot you. Then I’ll hunt down your brother and I’ll shoot him, too, just like I did Layla. Do you understand me?”

  She glared at him defiantly, tears streaming down her cheeks. His hand itched to smack the look off her face. “Do you understand me?” he repeated, low and lethal.

  She nodded.

  “Good.” He sawed through the tape and hauled her out of the car. The pilot was waiting for him outside the plane. He stopped in his tracks, causing Tiffany to stumble. This wasn’t his usual pilot. He approached cautiously. “Where’s Tony?”

  “He had a family emergency,” the man said with an accent. What was it, British? South African? “Asked me to fill in.”

  This could be good. This guy didn’t know him so he probably didn’t know he was a wanted man.

  “Where are we headed, mate?”

  “Mali.”

  “Ah,” the pilot said, scribbling on a clipboard. “Beautiful country. And the women…” He wagged his brows. “Have your passports with you?”

  Passports, as in plural. Shit. He didn’t have Tiffany’s with him. Hell, he’d just stuff her inside a bag and smuggle her into the country. No way was he letting her go before they landed. She was his bargaining chip. He’d find a way to get rid of her once they arrived in Mali.

  “Yes, so let’s go. I need to get in the air now.” He glanced over his shoulder, half expecting cop cars with lights swirling to be blazing towards them. He relaxed at the empty road and shoved Tiffany up the stairs into the plane. Once he was seated with the door closed, he exhaled, feeling like he’d taken the first deep breath all day. Air from the cabin chilled his sweat-soaked skin.

  A stewardess appeared wearing a tight red uniform. Damn, she was a knockout. He hadn’t seen her before. Nice rack, a bit thin but toned and tanned and stunning. She wasn’t exotic like his preferred choice, but her caramel colored hair with blond highlights framing her face and light blue eyes were mesmerizing. Too bad he’d given up women. Maybe he’d make an exception for this one, wondering if he could coax her into joining the mile-high club with him.

  The pilot’s voice floated from the overhead speakers. “I’m afraid we have slight delay, Senator Mullins. A major storm is blowing through the area and I can’t get clearance to take off. Sit back, have a drink or two and we’ll be airborne before you know it.”

  Mullins’ heart rate picked up. He ripped off his seat belt and stalked to the cockpit.

  “Senator Mullins, please sit down,” the stewardess fretted, trying to stop him. He ignored her and ripped open the flimsy accordion door that separated the pilot from the cabin.

  “Get this plane in the air now.”

  “Sorry, mate, I don’t have clear—”

  “I said,” Mullins reiterated, waving his gun in the pilot’s face, letting it do the talking.

  “I can’t just—”

  He thought about putting a bullet in the man’s brain but then he’d be stuck without a way out of the country. The delay in finding a back-up pilot might be all the time the FBI needed to track him down. “Get this plane airborne now or I shoot the stewardess.”

  The pilot acquiesced, holding up his hands and nodding. “Whatever you say, mate. You’re the boss.” He flipped a switch and the engines whirled to life. Mullins nodded his approval. Tucking the gun in his waistband, he swung around to return to his seat, unable to appreciate the world-class ass of the stewardess as she was bent over talking to his daughter. He stalked forward. “What the hell did my daughter say to you?” he demanded, pulling the gun out and waving it for good measure.

  The woman stood and jumped back in fright. She held her arms in the air. “Please don’t shoot. She said she was scared to fly. I told her not to worry, that the pilot was very good at his job.”

  He stared at her, trying to gauge her sincerity. She looked panicked so he decided she wasn’t a threat. He nodded and took his seat. “Bring me a scotch on the rocks. Make it a double.”

  “S-ure, sure. Anything you want, sir. What can I get you, sweetie?”

  “Just bring her a Coke.”

  The woman turned and headed to the small galley kitchen. He watched her carefully as she removed two glasses and fixed their drinks, making sure she didn’t dump any foreign substance into his glass. She smiled when she returned but it looked forced. Pity. She’d have made a nice diversion.

  “Make sure your seat belts are buckled,” she said as she sauntered away. Mullins admired the view. She had a spectacular ass. It wasn’t as full as he preferred, but a nice, toned heart shape. He took a drink, savoring the burn of the Scotch all the way down his esophagus. It tasted like victory. He’d killed Layla. He’d gotten away. He’d be on a beach in a few hours, drinking a Mai Tai and enjoying the local scenery. He closed his eyes and smiled. Everything was going to be just fine.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Layla sat directly across from Mullins with her arms crossed, her leg bobbing over her knee, a smug smile on her face. She was so going to enjoy this.

  Her chest ached where the bullet impacted the vest. Luke made her strap on an ice pack so she was looking slightly lumpy right now, but she didn’t care. She wouldn’t miss this for the world.

  “He should be around soon,” Kayla Hepburn said, still wearing her stewardess outfit. “I didn’t give him much.” She crossed her arms and glared at the unconscious senator. “Wimp.”

  The plane was filled with agents from an alphabet of agencies: FBI, CIA, NSA, you name it. Everyone wanted a piece of Mullins. He wouldn’t see daylight again. That’s all that mattered. Luke squeezed her hand and she turned to him and smiled.

  “Show time,” he murmured.

  Mullins stirred. He woke up slowly, his mouth opening and closing. His brows creased when he realized his hands were handcuffed to the seat. His gaze jerked up and stark fear flashed across his face.

  She smiled wider and wiggled her fingers. “Hello, Gene.”

  He yanked against his binds, his eyes wild.

  “What’s wrong? A little tied up at the moment?”

  Luke chuckled and bumped his shoulder against hers. She smiled at him.

  “Time to face the music, Gene,” Luke smirked.

  Logan slapped him on the back. “Good one.”

  Mullins blinked his eyes wide, his tongue darting in and out like a lizard. “What did you d
o to me?”

  “You mean besides capturing you before you fled the country like the coward you are?” Luke asked. “Dosed you with a sedative and a wee touch of truth serum.” He held up his thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

  “T-truth serum?”

  “Yep,” Luke confirmed. “When I said wee touch, I actually meant a whopping dose of it. Hell, Gene, you’ll be telling us your pin number within the next few minutes.”

  “She deserved it!” he roared, trying to stand, only to be jerked back down by the handcuffs.

  Layla’s breath caught in her throat. Who was he talking about?

  “Who deserved what?” Luke asked calmly. Layla wished she could act as cool but she was on the edge of breaking down.

  “My wife. That bitch’s mother. She was going to the cops. She said she would take me down. I’d have lost everything. Everything!”

  Layla shuddered. She’d always known he’d killed her mother, but hearing him confirm it was shattering.

  “So you had to silence her, did you, Gene? What did you do? Help her down the stairs, maybe with a shove?”

  Mullins gave a frustrated grunt. “I didn’t mean to. We were arguing and she wouldn’t listen to me. She was leaving. I tried to stop her. I grabbed her arm and she jerked away. I reached for her again but she stepped back. Then I gave her a slight push and she was falling down the stairs. It was an accident.”

  Layla could barely see through the tears. “So you just left her there?” She hated that her voice was hoarse. “For hours? You didn’t bother to see if she was still alive?”

  Mullins’ glare turned evil. “Of course I checked…I made sure she wasn’t.”

  It took everything in her not to lunge across the seats and wrap her hands around his neck. Luke sensed her turmoil and he rested his hand on her knee. The weight was a comfort.

  “You just admitted to killing your wife, Mullins. Voluntarily, involuntarily, at this point, it doesn’t even matter. That’s a murder charge added to your impressive rap sheet. You’re going away for life, Gene. Unless you get the needle, which I’m rooting for.”