“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Boss growled. “So now every lowlife, wannabe hit man from here to Timbuktu is going to be gunning for us? Is that what you’re saying?”
Rock nodded. “Larry also informed me there’s a 50k price tag on each and every one of our heads.”
Bill whistled, and Becky let loose a string of curses to do Boss proud.
Oh boy, Vanessa thought as she reached for the bottle of beer sitting in front of Becky. “May I?”
“Help yourself.” Becky nodded distractedly.
She tipped her head back and gulped down the frothy brew, trying to wash away the bile that’d steadily gathered in the back of her throat for the last half hour.
So, to recap her life in the past few months…
First, she joins a clandestine defense firm. Then, she develops a rather tragic case of do-me-big-boy for one of her coworkers. And finally, she finds herself slam-bam in the middle of an unknown number of crosshairs.
Are we having fun now?
Um, hell no. The answer to that question was a resounding hell no.
Although, there was some comfort in knowing the other Knights were in those same crosshairs with her, because if anyone could come out of this situation unscathed, it was the hardcore warriors of BKI.
“Do you know how Larry was supposed to contact Johnny for payment once he made a kill?” Boss asked.
Rock reached into the pocket of his frayed Levi’s and pulled out a piece of paper. “Supposedly, this address is a meeting place. If Larry had proof of a kill, he would hook-up with Johnny there at nineteen hundred on Friday to collect his reward. If he didn’t show up Friday, then he was to meet Johnny on Tuesday at the same time. I guess after that Johnny figured we’d all be dead because Larry-Larry-Bo-Berry didn’t have any more dates.”
“Hand it over,” Becky motioned with two fingers, and Rock passed her the yellow sticky note. “Hey, this is local,” she exclaimed excitedly.
“Oui.” Rock nodded.
“So that means Johnny’s here in Chicago?” Becky lifted a brow.
“Mais oui. Or at least he will be this Friday and next Tuesday.”
Vanessa’s temples started pounding in rhythm to her heart at the news. She’d never had a price on her head before, and knowing the guy who’d made a mark of her was going to be so close? Well, it took was what an untenable situation and shot it straight into the atmosphere of planet OhHellNo.
She was sensing a theme here…
“I think we should station guys at the drop point now,” Bill said, running a hand through his thick brown hair, “so we can watch the comings and goings and maybe do some nosing around. See if anyone in the area has seen him. The sooner we catch him and put an end to this, the better.”
“Agreed,” Boss said. “But let’s think about the logistics here. Everyone is pulling four-on/four-off rotations keeping eyes on the perimeter. And since Ghost decided this would be the perfect opportunity to take his new wifey on an ill-timed honeymoon, that only leaves—Ow! Why are you smacking me, woman?”
Becky’s palm was still connected to the meaty part of Boss’s big shoulder when she said, her voice tight with indignation, “First, Ghost took off with Ali because he figured it was the only way to keep her safe from Johnny’s vengeance. You know that as well as I do. And second, it’s a honeymoon. It’s never ill-timed.” She pointed a finger at his nose. “You remember that.”
A muscle in Boss’s jaw twitched, and just when Vanessa thought he might put Becky in her place, his scarred face split wide in a blinding grin. He grabbed Becky’s hand and kissed the tip of her still-pointing finger.
“Message received.” His voice was infused with a hot emotion that certainly wasn’t anger.
The two exchanged a look so pointed Vanessa’s own cheeks began to heat just as Bill piped up with, “God. I’m more than happy to be pulling surveillance duty in the condo across the river if it means I don’t have to watch you two constantly making googly eyes at each other. I think I might puke.”
It was true. There was a lot of sexual tension in the air tonight. What with Boss and Becky barely able to keep their hands off one another, and her inability to stop staring at Rock and drooling.
Oh yeah, and then there were Snake and Michelle…
The chemistry simmering between those two was enough to make a smart girl reach for a hazmat suit because, wow, an explosion of epic proportions was imminent.
“I think you’ll survive,” Boss grumbled, reluctantly dropping Becky’s hand and turning back to the group. “But that brings me back to my point, which is that since Becky has to stay here and coordinate movements and communication between all parties, there’s only me and Rock left to recon and surveil the drop point.”
“Not to throw a fly in the ointment, Boss,” Rock interjected. “But you’re not exactly inconspicuous on a good day. With that bright blue cast, you stand out like a back pocket on a shirt.”
“Shit!” Boss cursed, glaring at the offending cast like it was a demon sprung from hell.
“I’ll go,” Vanessa blurted before she could think better of it.
Brilliant, Van. Simply brilliant.
“Have you ever done surveillance before?” Boss asked, eyeing her curiously.
“Of course.” What the hell was she doing? He’d given her the perfect out.
“Okay then,” Boss slapped his big palm down on the table, the equivalent of a judge’s gavel, effectively alerting everyone the decision had been made. “You and Rock go get eyes on the drop point and see if you can’t locate Johnny.”
Her heart started hammering against her ribs as Rock sent her a considering look out from under the dense shadow created by his lashes.
Oh man, this is a mistake…
But she didn’t have too much time to contemplate the ramifications because Boss continued, “You know what having Johnny out hiring any Joe-Shmoe with an empty wallet and full clip means, don’t you?”
“Oui,” Rock dipped his chin. “It means the only way to get these flies off our shit is to kill or otherwise vamoose dear Johnny.”
“Exactly,” Boss said, wincing and threading one big finger under his cast to scratch an itch. “We get rid of Johnny, and we take away the money. We take away the money, and we take away the threat.”
“And once we do that, how will we disseminate the information so Johnny’s Soldier of Fortune-reading goons call off the hunt?” Angel asked.
Vanessa looked over to see Bill grinning broadly. “Hey, Becky?” he sing-songed, his tone teasing. Becky gave him a wary glance. “How do you feel about another press conference? The media has loved you ever since you were a pirate’s hostage.”
“Ugh,” Becky groaned. “I thought I was finished with reporters after that whole debacle.”
One thing Vanessa could say about working for BKI: it was never boring. Case in point: Becky Reichert had been captured by pirates. Yes, that’s right. Pirates. As in arg.
If she wasn’t mistaken, there was even an eye-patch involved…
“All right, then,” Boss pushed away from the conference table and turned to Becky. The look of mortal dread on her face caused him to shake his head and pat her shoulder conciliatorily. “You’ll be great, just like you were before. For now, I’ll call our friends at the CPD so we can turn Mr. Marrow over into their loving hands. And Bill, you and Angel get back in position. We need to be ready for the next strike.”
The next strike…
Like it was a foregone conclusion there’d be one.
Oh, God.
Chapter Five
Jake’s broad palms were warm against Michelle’s upper arms, his thighs hard against her own as he curled himself around her and her softly snoring son, kissing her with all the skill and dedication she remembered from four years ago.
Sweet Lord! Help me!
Because right now she was incapable of helping herself.
He tasted the same and smelled the same and, worse, felt the sam
e. All corded muscle and smooth skin, prickly whiskers making her lips tingle.
In a word: male.
All the things a man should be.
Making her feel all the things a woman should feel when she was held in strong arms. Cherished, desired, protected…
Oh, how she wanted to go on letting him kiss her to within an inch of her life, kiss her until all thoughts of consequences flew right out of her head. But she’d been on this ride with him before, had witnessed her own father play on this same terrible roller coaster of physical thrill-seeking, and she knew, like always, her heart would be the one to pay the piper in the end.
No matter how much it might feel otherwise right now, she knew the excitement and pleasure of the moment wasn’t worth the pain of the crash.
The effort it took to step from his embrace was excruciating, but she managed it. Though it felt like she was leaving her heart behind. And then he went and made everything so much worse when he blurted, “I love you, Shell.”
“Wh-what?” she sputtered.
“I love you,” he said again. Just like that. So easy. So carefree with those words.
When he took a step toward her, she mirrored his movement, retreating, nearly tripping over the dang cat that was rubbing itself against her calves. He reached out to steady her, and she jerked aside. His fingers were a brand, burning her on the outside as his words scorched through her insides.
“I loved you then, I love you now, and I’ve loved you all the days in between,” he went on, even as his expression fell when she scrambled to avoid his touch.
He tucked his hands into the front pockets of his tattered jeans, and she closed her eyes as her heart, the one she’d sworn she’d hardened against him, shattered anew, along the same fault lines he’d made so long ago…
It wasn’t true. He might think it was because they’d never gotten the chance to finish what they’d started and he’d confused unrequited lust with love, but it wasn’t true. He didn’t love her. Men like him didn’t know the meaning of the word, yet they were oh so quick to whip it out when it suited them.
Hugging her son to her chest, she fought the urge to burst into tears, just dissolve into a puddle. This was why she hadn’t wanted to see him, why the mysterious “they” were obvious imbeciles. This moment right now. Because she wasn’t strong enough to resist him. She never had been.
But you have to be, Michelle. For Franklin’s sake…
“No, Jake,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to breathe past the iron vice of anguish crushing her chest, “you don’t—”
“Tell me there’s a chance,” he begged. She opened her eyes to search his face, her throat burning like the glowing embers of the fire at his back. “Tell me you still feel something for me.”
She swallowed and managed to choke, “You had your chance. You had many chances, but you blew them all. Now, it’s too late.” Too, too late…
“No,” he shook his head. “I refuse to believe it.”
“It’s true.” She beat back the ocean of tears gathering in her eyes and firmed her resolve, though everything inside her screamed at her to go into his arms, to believe him even though she’d heard all these same lies before. And then she told a lie of her own, “I don’t love you anymore.”
When he got very still, she figured she’d better deliver the coup de grace before she lost her nerve. “I’m not sure I ever loved you,” she whispered hoarsely.
Did he…? Were those tears in his eyes?
Dear God, they were. And just when she thought those tears might actually fall—and heaven help her if they did; she’d never survive it—everything hardened in his face.
The wetness in his eyes vanished so quickly it startled her, forcing her to retreat another step.
“I can change your mind,” he declared, lowering his chin so that he was glaring at her from under his furrowed brow.
And that was the arrogant man she knew so well, the mercenary man she knew so well. It gave her the courage to shake her head. “No. You won’t get the chance to—”
Her brother picked that moment to burst through the shop’s back door.
Jake spun, his hand automatically going to the weapon he’d returned to the small of his back, reminding her that, despite the ridiculousness of the debacle with Peanut, they’d been having this entire conversation, engaging in this foolhardy behavior, in the middle of a situation that was downright dangerous.
Her big brother had someone trying to kill him, and she and Jake were standing there kissing? Arguing about their feelings?
They should both have their heads examined.
“Snake,” her brother said, “I need you to go to Shell’s place and pack a couple of bags for her and Franklin. They’re staying here for the next few days.”
“What?” she yelped, Jake’s heart-wrenching words momentarily forgotten as she gaped at her brother. Her outburst caused Franklin to grumble sleepily and root around for his thumb. After shoving the chubby digit between his lips, he once more quieted. Only then did she hiss, “You’re insane. We’re not staying here!”
In response, Frank leveled her a glare so severe everything inside her shriveled to the size of a pea.
“Yes,” he insisted, “you are.”
***
If Boss hadn’t been so butt-ugly and likely to punch him smack in the face for the effort, Jake would’ve run over and kissed the guy.
He’d been losing the battle with Shell and had been clueless as to what to do to turn the tide in his favor. Enter Boss…
“B-but you can’t be serious!” Shell sputtered, absently patting Franklin’s bottom when he grunted quietly.
“Oh, I’m serious as a heart attack.” Boss ran a big square hand through his hair and settled into a lounge chair. “See, we’ve got ourselves a little situation here, and I’m afraid it might spill over onto you and Franklin. It’s not likely, but I wanna make sure to cover all my bases.”
“Little situation? Is that what you call having someone paint a giant bull’s eye on your back?” When Boss glanced over at Jake, she added, “Oh, yeah. He told me someone wants you dead.”
Boss lifted a shoulder, and Shell’s face filled with incredulity.
“Okay, so when did you know about this little situation?” she demanded.
“Yesterday evening was the first time we got credible evidence of the threat. I thought perhaps that might be the end of it, but apparently not. And then tonight the seriousness of the situation became clear.”
“Yesterday evening?” Jake watched her eyes narrow. He was glad he wasn’t the one on the other end of that death-ray stare—for once. “And when did you think you were going to tell me about all this?”
“I just did.”
“Yes,” she grumbled. “Which leads to the next important question, which is why in the world would you bring me and Franklin here when you know you’ve got guys gunning for you? Why would you bring us to the center of all the trouble?”
“Believe me, you’re safer here at the compound than any place else.”
“What the heck is going on, Frank?”
“Some guy out of Las Vegas named Johnny Vitiglioni has hired a bunch of backwoods goons to take us out,” Boss explained, and Jake resisted the urge to reach out and grab Shell’s hand when she gasped quietly. If the last few minutes were any indication, she wouldn’t welcome his touch—and he was going to try very hard not to let that hurt him.
Of course, even if it did hurt him—okay, so let’s be honest here; it most certainly did—he was determined to take it.
He deserved it, after all…
But if there was one thing he knew about Shell, it was that she couldn’t hold a grudge for long. She was too softhearted, the wonderful woman. She’d eventually forgive him for his past mistakes, no matter how egregious they were. That’s what he loved best about her, her big, wide-open heart. All he had to do was stick with it, stick with her and—
“There’s fifty grand on e
ach and every one of our heads,” Boss finished.
Oh, hell. His mind was wrenched away from his relationship, or non-relationship as the case may be, with Shell. So, whoever wants them all adiosed means business.
Because fifty thousand dollars was a lot of money, even for a professional hit, and when you multiplied that by the number of Black Knights, it became a small fortune.
He listened intently as Boss recounted a story of a corrupt senator, illegal weapons deals, missing files, and a cross-country chase that ended in two hired thugs being sent to their maker by one of the Black Knights.
“It seems Vitiglioni has sworn a vendetta against us.” Boss shrugged like having a price on his head was nothing more than a minor inconvenience, a pesky gnat buzzing around his picnic lunch. “And until we can get rid of him and cut off the money he’s willing to supply for our deaths, we have to be extremely vigilant. Hence the need for the guys we’ve got on the rooftops surrounding the compound and the whole Barnum and Bailey theme going on back here.” He pointed to the overhead canopy.
“What’s to stop this Vitiglioni character from using an RPG or hand-held missile to try to take out the entire compound in one fell swoop?” Jake asked, his mind spinning with logistics.
“Nothing,” Boss admitted. “Except the fact that he’s a small-time crook, and it’d be extremely difficult for him to get his hands on anything like that. And given the guys he’s hired to do his dirty work answered an ad in Soldier of Fortune magazine, I’d bet the farm they don’t have anything more than handguns, rifles and maybe a little C4. And just so you know, it’d take a lot more than an RPG to take down the shop.” He smiled and winked proudly. “The walls on the factory building are three feet thick and reinforced with the same alloy steel they use on aircraft landing gear. It’d take a two-ton bomb to level Black Knights Inc.”
“That’s very reassuring, Frank,” Shell cut in. “Truly it is. But I really don’t understand what any of this has to do with me. I don’t understand why I’d need to stay here.”
Rev It Up Page 8
