She still had one more shot.
Sam twisted and thrust her fist upward, connecting with his chin. He stumbled back enough for her to aim a second time. There was no way she could miss at this close range. Even with Heinrich laughing at her and with the nightmare of Dad threatening to resurface.
She aimed and shot. The arc curved and landed square on the man’s broad chest and stomach. Textbook shot.
She held the trigger.
He screamed. Spasms from the amped up voltage caused the man’s feet to fly off the floor. When he landed, his knees buckled, and he dropped next to where Sam’s first shot had missed. Twisting and writhing worse than an epileptic episode, his body rolled to the side on top of the first shot. She didn’t let up on the trigger. His eyebrows and hair began to singe from the heat. The burnt smell attacked her nostrils. His eyes rolled back, and his smile disappeared. Once peachy and pristine, his skin was now dark and charred as steam wafted from his body.
His pseudo-brothers grabbed for him, horrified. Then snatched their hands back as if they’d been electrocuted. They might’ve been. Maybel had increased the voltage on these babies enough to knock out a one-thousand pound rhino. The first missed shot still zapped on the floor, a sharp sizzle melding with the singed man’s groans.
The Germans whirled on Sam with looks of anger and confusion. Heinrich glowered, but he took a small step backward.
She’d already reached in her purse and had the next Taser ready. “Anyone else?” She pointed the weapon at each man in turn. Her bones rattled, and her heart was ready to give out, but she shot them her best tough girl glare.
Her courage increased as the group took a step back. Then another. She reveled in the favorable shift of power.
Heinrich peered around the safety of the Berlin wall. “You created quite a mess for me during your last visit, Samantha.”
“How do you know my name?” The Taser in her hand dropped a fraction of an inch.
He smirked and stepped over the scorched body on the floor, which still thrashed. Dense, dark puffs of smoke wafted off it.
“Oh, I know all about you,” he said. “You’re the apple of your daddy’s eye.”
“Where is he, Heinrich? I know you’ve got him.”
“Now, why would I tell you that? Davy Harper is one of my best employees. Very diligent in his work ethic. With his help, I’ve become the sole supplier of drugs in the city and soon to be the East Coast.”
Realizing the Taser had dropped almost to her side, Sam snapped it back to attention. “Tell me where your compound is.” Shit. She hadn’t planned on bringing that up yet.
An evil laugh blew past his lips. “My, my, you’re feisty. I like that. If I’d have known, I would’ve bypassed your father and come after you years ago. I still might. I made a deal with your father, but I think I need to renegotiate the terms. How would you like to be a very rich young woman, Samantha? I could use someone with your youth and vitality.”
“Heinrich, you—”
There was a sound. A whoosh so resounding all heads turned to the twisting body on the floor. Within seconds, it ignited and burst into flames as if someone had covered it in lighter fluid and thrown a match. The entire body, consumed by the blaze, rolled and turned in the large puddle of liquor. His screams of terror pierced the room.
Always ready and able to state the obvious, Sam screamed, “The alcohol! It’s flammable!”
Loud whooshes mirroring the initial sound took off in rapid succession, igniting the back corner of the club in seconds. She watched the meaning dawn on Heinrich’s face. He turned as if to lunge at her, but his sleeve caught fire. He desperately patted his arm and shouted orders at the men surrounding him.
As if someone had cast a spell, the fire created a line between Sam and Heinrich, blocking one from the other. Neither could cross. The flames wailed and screeched, torching everything in their path.
The smoke thickened, filling the already dark room. Sam coughed and dropped to her hands and knees and crawled in the direction of the exit. Every few seconds she glanced behind her to be sure no one followed and then continued to crawl, feeling the bruises on her knees growing from the rough contact with the cold cement floor.
“Where are you, you little bitch?” Heinrich screamed.
Keep moving, Sam!
She scurried in the direction of where the front door should be.
There was a faint line of light peeking from under the steel door. Just a few more feet, and she’d be free.
A clamp locked around her right ankle. It pulled, yanking her away from her escape. Her chin slammed against the hard floor, sending pain up her jaw and cheeks. Another burst exploded inside her brain. She squeezed her eyes closed.
The owner of the hand flipped her onto her back.
She got a quick peek at the German gripping her ankle, before she kicked her other leg out, connecting with his nose. He wailed and released her, covering his face.
Screw this. She rolled onto her knees, vaulted to her feet, and bolted for the door.
The stagnate air of 27th Street filled her lungs as she sprinted to her car. Jamming her key in the ignition, she pulled away in seconds.
She dared a glance in the rearview mirror. Angry flames punched out the warehouse’s windows and screamed for the sky.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ash needed sleep. He’d spent the last week at his bedroom window, keeping watch over the neighborhood. More specifically over Sam.
She’d spent most of her days at work and her afternoons at Rose’s, doing God-knows-what those women did to pass the time. Probably sharpening their switchblades.
Today he purposefully worked in the front yard, wanting an excuse to run into her. He needed a smile or a simple hello. Even when his Humvee had crashed and he’d been stranded in the middle of the Afghani desert, bleeding, needing food and water, without any support in sight, he didn’t hurt as much as he did now. It was as if a part of him had been ripped away. Vital organs torn from his insides, now on display for the world to see.
He had to make it stop.
Which meant he had to talk to her. Reemphasize his reasons for turning her away. Remind her how he was responsible for the death of that kid, loss of his team and his self-respect. She deserved all of him, not a shell of who he used to be. He needed to get himself in order. Straighten out the messes he’d created. Not make new ones.
Over the last week, she’d avoided him better than a well-trained spy, ducking and dodging her way into her house, locked securely behind a door. He could have easily picked the lock or broken the goddamn thing down. But he wanted her trust. He wanted her to want to talk to him.
It didn’t seem that was going to happen. And well, Ash wasn’t much of a patient man when it came to something he wanted. Waiting for Heinrich to make the drop was one thing. Waiting for someone like Sam to utter a single word in his direction was something he didn’t have the strength with which to wait. That was something a man had to fight for. Die for.
She hadn’t looked his way once since he turned her out. And he wasn’t sure he’d even seen her smile. Not the way she had before he came into her life. God, that first day he’d seen her bouncing down her front steps wearing that smile. It had done incredible things to his insides. Each night since they’d parted, he’d visualized her body under his wearing nothing but that smile.
He had pulled an overgrown azalea bush from his front garden and dragged it to the curb, when a car pulled up. A flashy car. Much too nice for this neighborhood. It was sleek, red, and waxed to a pristine glossy finish, with low-profile tires and oversize shiny rims. It pulled behind his truck and slowed to a stop. There was only one person who would drive such a pompous car.
Luke Calder.
He and Luke had been best friends since Army basic training. When the DEA recruited Ash five years ago, part of the deal was that the agency took Calder, too. He was the first member of Ash’s four-man team.
“Coop!” Calder sho
uted as he exited. As usual, Luke wore his best attire when in plain-clothes. Tailored white linen shirt, designer label shorts, and flip-flops that probably cost three hundred dollars. Calder liked to impress.
But why he had shown up at Ash’s house unannounced after so much time had passed was a mystery. “What are you doing here?” Ash asked when Luke was beside him.
Easygoing surfer-boy that he was, Calder chuckled. “Nice to see you, too, man.” He ran a hand through his blond hair, which was longer than he used to keep it. More relaxed.
Maybe Luke hadn’t taken their assignment in Argentina as well as Ash had thought. Maybe the guilt ate at Luke’s conscience, too.
Ash gave him a doubtful look.
“What?” Calder said, “I can’t pop in and say hi to my best friend?”
“Not when you haven’t spoken to him in a year.” Ash crossed his arms. “What gives?”
Calder removed his mirrored aviator sunglasses, folding them with careful slowness, then stowed them in his front shirt pocket. “We need to talk.”
Ash knew Calder better than anyone. He used to think he knew him better than himself. So at Luke’s vacillating expression, Ash had to calm his breathing and pulse. Whatever Luke came for, it wasn’t because he wanted to talk about the good old days.
He’d been sent to deal with Ash.
Luke placed his hand on Ash’s shoulder. “Maybe we should go somewhere to chat, buddy.”
Ash nodded and dropped the dead plant still in his hand.
Before he turned, Sam’s Honda pulled up. The hair on Ash’s arms stood on end and a prickle rushed down his spine. The anticipation of seeing her crippled him.
Calder turned, following Ash’s gaze. “Mmmm. And who might this pretty little thing be?”
Ash caught the sly smile in his tone and snarled. “Hands off.” Ash met Sam’s eyes through the driver’s side window.
Terror and hesitation crossed her face. Though he knew Samantha Harper wasn’t scared or hesitant of anyone, least of all him. But as her eyes darted from Ash to her front door and back, he started to sweat. Would talking to him really be that bad?
Biting her bottom lip, she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, her eyes glancing between it and him.
“She better get out soon or she’s going to suffer heat exhaustion,” Luke murmured.
Ash frowned. Would she prefer that to forced conversation with him?
She finally exited the car but didn’t acknowledge him, even though he knew she could feel him piercing her with his eyes. She lifted the car’s hood. Thick, white steam wafted from the engine.
“What the—?” Luke said.
Ash kept his gaze on Sam.
She sidestepped the front of the car, still not turning to him.
You’re not getting away that easy. “Hi, Sam.” Offering a smile, he fell in step behind her as she looked straight ahead and hustled to her front steps. He remained close, hoping it would drive her crazy enough to turn around. “How are you?”
She nodded her half-assed greeting, keeping her eyes forward, picking up her pace.
“Lovely weather we’re having today, don’t you think?” He was fully aware of Luke behind him, watching the exchange with keen interest. “Really beautiful.”
She grunted.
Luke laughed.
“I think we’re in for another scorcher. At least that’s what Channel Two says.” He quickened his pace, almost stepping on her feet as she scaled her stairs. What an ironic turn of events since their first meeting had ended the same way, except Sam was the one chasing him up his front steps.
She didn’t face him until she was through her front door and standing in her foyer. “What do you want, Ash?” She glanced behind him, toward the street, and then back to his face.
The only thing separating them was the thin screen door. He could easily push it out of the way or reach through it. And boy did he want to.
Calder stood next to him, rocking back on his heels and smiling like a damn idiot.
“To talk to you,” Ash said, failing to hide the desperation in his voice. Luke’s smile grew wider. Ash leaned closer to her and lowered her voice. “To make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine?” Her eyes filled with something close to regret, but it was gone in seconds. She glanced past him to the street again.
He glanced too. What was she looking for?
When her eyes came back to the porch, she zeroed in on Luke. “Oh.” She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “Hello.” She smiled at him, damn it. Not one of her special smiles, but a smile nonetheless.
Ash nearly stepped in front of Luke to block his irresistible pheromones from reaching her. No woman within thirty miles could resist him. He’d been here less than five minutes and already he’d worked his magic. “Sam,” Ash growled. “This is Luke Calder.”
Her eyes widened and her eyebrows shot up at the name.
“Yes, that Luke Calder.”
The man in question cocked his head at Ash, then gave Sam a ridiculous bow Ash had seen him do a thousand times. This time though, he wanted to kick his ass. “It’s a pleasure. I’d kiss your hand if you weren’t already inside.”
Ash rolled his eyes. “Luke, this is Samantha Harper.”
Calder froze and his head snapped up. The seducer’s expression was wiped away and replaced with a look of utter shock. “Harper?”
“Yeah.” Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Luke recovered, pasting that slick grin back on his lips. “No reason, sweetheart. Just repeating what I heard.” His gaze slanted to Ash for an imperceptible second, but he caught it. Something was up.
Her hand rested on her hip. “Will you be in town long, Luke?”
Why the sudden interest in Luke’s travel plans?
Luke opened his mouth to speak, but Ash stepped in front of him. “He’s just visiting. Heading back to DC tonight. Isn’t that right, Calder?” Ash could practically see the wheels spinning in her head, planning, scheming. If she thought Luke would be around, she’d sic her pack of undercover grannies on him.
Catching on quick, his friend nodded and remained silent.
Sam narrowed her eyes again. Always suspicious.
A car drove down the street, loud thumping music blaring from the open windows. Sam’s breath hitched, and her head jerked in that direction. Her hand gripped the wood door preparing to close it. Her knuckles turned white, as did her complexion.
“Sam,” he said, keeping his eyes on her. “Are you—?”
“I’m fine,” she said when the car had disappeared down the street. “Thanks for your concern.” Then she shut the door in his face.
He stood, staring, deciding whether he should stick his fist through it and pull the damn woman out by her hair.
Calder had the nerve to laugh beside him. “Wow. I see your talents with women haven’t changed much.”
Ash glanced at the now empty street in the direction the car had driven. “Did anything about that seem odd to you?”
“You mean the part where a beautiful woman just shot you down without blinking? Or her aversion to loud music and cars?”
Ash bit the inside of his cheek as he pondered. “Both. And I want to know why.”
…
On her tiptoes, Sam peered through the peephole. Ash stood on her front porch, most likely contemplating breaking down the door. Brute. Luke slapped Ash on the back and muttered something about going somewhere to talk. After a moment, Ash gave up and walked away. He and Luke walked down her front steps and got into Luke’s sports car. Ash glanced once at her house, then turned to face front as they drove away.
She leaned her back against the door and slid down the hard surface. She landed on the floor and curled her legs to her chest, resting her forehead on her knees.
He wanted to see if she was okay. She let out a bitter laugh. She’d be okay if he would leave her the hell alone. Or if he’d stop looking so sexy without a shirt on, doing
manual labor. Or if he wouldn’t give her that I’m-so-sorry-puppy-dog look, eyes wide and sympathetic. She’d most especially be okay if Ash Cooper hadn’t moved in next door or been involved in her father’s case.
They could have cut ties and parted ways, gone back to being indifferent acquaintances. Distant yet cordial neighbors.
Not now. Not after the way he made her feel. Lying in his bed, his body coming alive under her touch. His patience at the shooting range. Laughing and joking in his living room. It was a connection she’d never had with anyone else and feared she’d never feel again.
She missed him.
But it was more than that. She had this relentless ache in her stomach that wouldn’t go away. Emptiness left behind after Dad left. Ash filled that hole. Gave her life new meaning. Showed her there were things still worth fighting for.
His assignment would be over soon. Then he’d be gone. Out of her life forever.
She doubled over, clutching her midsection.
Gone.
Why the hell did it hurt so bad to think about Ash somewhere other than next door? Why did it feel like her heart would explode?
See, this was why she’d avoided him. If she’d just been able to wait in the car. Or think of somewhere else to drive. But no, he’d cornered her. Forced her to face this insane flurry of messed-up emotions.
Sitting up, she banged her skull against the oak door.
Idiot. You just had to go and get attached, didn’t you?
Ash was the first person she’d thought of when the body at Club Hell caught fire. Despair and regret was immediate when she realized she’d taken a life. The bartender was probably someone’s husband or son. Or someone’s father. This time she hadn’t had Vamp or anything else to blame it on. She’d taken the Taser and pulled the trigger. The ache turned painful, slicing through her stomach.
She’d overreacted when that car drove past her house. Like Viktor Heinrich would really speed down the road blaring rap music. Ha! But it still got under her skin. She’d foolishly gone after Heinrich under-armed and alone. Something everyone who cared about her would have scolded her for.
On Her Six (Under Covers) Page 21
