by Dana Volney
They both put their .22s, already donning silencers, in the side of their jackets. This was going to be quick and messy. Able took long strides toward the woman, and Samson converged on ball cap.
They were professionals; leaving bodies around wasn’t optimal. But nothing about this situation was idyllic, so why should this afternoon be any different?
Rodney was still nowhere to be found. They hadn’t identified him in any of the spots that would be a perfect sniper’s perch, and he wasn’t showing now when his presumed team was going after a major target.
Able slowed his pace when he was in clear peripheral view of the woman, who was dressed in black pants that ended above her ankles and black flats with a khaki trench coat and black handbag. This could all be coincidence and she had nothing to do with the meeting.
He watched her for a beat. Just a normal woman focusing on what was in front of her while walking to the parking lot. He didn’t remember the couple eating on the bench, but they could’ve been in the park for a number of reasons. Then she reached into her purse and he saw the glint of the butt of a small handgun.
That was all the confirmation he needed.
He sidled up next to the hitter before she could get the gun out of her purse completely. “Nice day for a walk, isn’t it?” He grinned and she shoved the gun down into her bag.
She shot a tight smile back, her lips as red as blood. “Yes, it is very nice today.” There was a Germanic lilt to her words.
He glanced over at Samson, now parallel to his guy. They locked eyes and he knew. They both knew what they had to do. At the same time.
Able took hold of his gun in his right pocket and, without removing it, swiveled to aim at her torso. He pulled the trigger and the woman stopped short, her wide eyes finding his. Before she could shoot him, he faced her and fired again, pew-pew noises mixed with the cold air. He wrapped his left arm around her and led her to the nearest oak tree, propping her against it as if she were taking a light nap in the park in the middle of winter.
He looked in her bag—nothing in it but the handgun. No ID in her pockets either. He snapped a picture of the woman with his phone and sent it to Sabene. He stood, straightened his jacket, and started up the hill again, glancing at Samson. He’d done the same and was headed in the opposite direction of Able. He’d probably parked farther down.
Able could still catch Teagan and ride with her. No way in hell was he going to let her out of his sight now. He glanced to the top of the hill. Teagan was standing there, jaw down.
Fuck. She’d seen him take the assassin out. He hurried to her, but it took a long couple of seconds to reach her. Her gaze locked on the woman by the tree.
He reached out for her. Before his fingers touched her skin, she pulled away.
“You just— ” Her blue eyes were wide as she searched his stare. Her mouth open, color drained from her face. Horrified.
“You’ve got company,” Samson called out, sounding out of breath. “So do I. Get out of there.”
Able connected with Teagan’s wrist this time and held on so that she couldn’t escape. “We have to go.”
She followed his lead, faltering a couple of steps as he rushed them to the tan car, noting the blue car in the parking lot with a blonde male trained on him. He opened the driver’s side door and waved for Teagan to get in. There was no way he was going to risk her being away from his cover.
She hurried over, her ass in the air. Another day he would’ve chuckled at the perfect sight. He slid in after her and practically squealed out of the parking lot. There was no need to be quiet. They were already on to them. It was time to get away. The park was now a fucking genius idea—the freeway wasn’t far, and if he hadn’t lost the tail by then, he would in the traffic.
“Did you shake them?” he asked Samson over the comms.
“Who?” Teagan’s voice rose and her hands went up.
“I’m talking to Samson. Put your seat belt on.”
“I’ll turn her comm back on,” Sabene chimed in.
Able didn’t necessarily want that, but he had other issues right now. Like why hadn’t Samson answered yet? He was about to flip the car around and drive through the park to find his brother.
“Yeah. Did you?” Samson finally answered.
“Yes, but we have a tail.” Able gritted his jaw. “Germans. I took a photo.”
“Shit. Talk about ruthless. This day just keeps getting better.” Samson took a beat. “Claire?”
“We’re here.” Claire’s voice was silky. “We watched Hugh leave alone.”
“Get back to the office and we’ll regroup. Double-check your six.” If one of them brought the enemy to his fake business doorstep, he was going to start filling anyone he didn’t recognize with lead.
* * *
Teagan’s mind finally caught up to her eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she yelled out and rubbed her hand over her forehead. She was shaking. She clutched her hands in her lap. “Did you just kill a woman?”
He side-eyed her and hung a right without using a blinker.
She was wrong. He wasn’t okay. Killing people wasn’t okay. He’d just done it, not aggravated, not justified or needed, just murdered because he felt like it. She’d turned around and all of a sudden he was shooting a woman and dragging her to a tree. And then just left her on the ground.
“Pull over.” She was going to be sick.
“I can’t.” His voice was tight as his gaze rotated between the windshield, rearview mirror, and side mirror.
“Why not?” she shouted. She closed her eyes. Okay, she needed to calm the hell down. A scream that desperately wanted out lodged in her throat. How could she? She was officially an accessory to murder.
“We’re being followed.”
“Oh my God.” She twisted in her seat to look behind them. A black SUV was a couple cars behind. “The SUV?” She gripped the oh-shit handle as he swerved in traffic.
“No. The blue Taurus.” He hung another right and changed lanes, turning left on a yellow light to merge onto the freeway.
She didn’t see the older model car now, but her vision was a little hazy for the moment. He took the second off ramp and pointed the car back toward downtown.
They rode in silence as he took random turns and backtracked for what seemed like all day. She just had nothing fucking else to say to him.
She climbed the stairs in his office, resigned to whatever was going to happen. She clearly had no control, and murder was on the table now, so what the hell. She’d witnessed him do the unthinkable. He might not let her leave now. Not that he ever had since they’d met.
“Are you shutting down on me?” Able took off his black jacket and draped it over the back of the couch.
She bit the inside of her cheek. She knew this was who he was; this shouldn’t be so shocking.
“You are taking this a little too personally.” He folded his arms and leaned his ass against the back of the couch.
This? Killing someone was personal, no matter what. “That’s how normal, well-adjusted people react to murder.” Teagan swiped her hair with both hands to fit behind her ears. Her braid was probably a hot mess at this point. Fitting for her life.
“This probably isn’t the last time we’ll be in this type of situation.”
“You might be used to this, but I am n-not.” She clamped down her jaw on the unexpected stutter to regroup. She took a deep breath. “She was just walking.”
“So you think that I chose to shoot a random woman in the park today?”
A darkness flitted across his face and remained in his eyes. A shiver knocked down her back. The darkness drew her in. Mesmerized her and tugged at her, calling her to wrap her arms around him.
She was really fucked up.
“All I know is, one moment she was there and then she wasn’t.”
“You would’ve preferred that I let her use the gun in her purse on you?”
Ice rolled through her veins. He’d been protecting her. She shook her h
ead no. She had no words. She swallowed hard and studied his long, edgy face.
She took a step toward him and then didn’t stop until her arms were folded around his neck, kissing him hard. For the sadness, for the appreciation, and for her fear of the unknown. She sank her head into the crook of his neck and shoulder. She breathed in his spice as his hands wrapped around her back, bringing with them a familiarity she sagged into.
The sting of tears nipped at the sides of her eyes. The gratefulness she wanted to feel wasn’t right. He’d put her life above another.
He’d made the hard choice so she didn’t have to.
Her eyes popped open. She pulled back to gaze into his chocolate eyes. “Thank you.”
His stare flicked to her lips and lingered enough to light a spark between her legs. Her skin heated and, just like that, she was under the spell of his control, her inhibitions vanishing. She wanted to be skin to skin with Able, run her hands up his smooth, bare chest, tracing the waves of his tattoo, and hold on to his shoulders as he fucked her right there.
The front door to the shop sounded, breaking the trance, and she instantly took a step back out of his warmth. If she didn’t then, she might not ever.
“I got the footage from the hospital.” Rife held a little black thumb drive up between his fingers.
“I’ll take that.” Sabene was right behind him and snatched it out of his hand. Arkham went to his previous place under the round table, circled, and laid down facing the group. All of them filed into the living room and took up their previous spots.
Teagan glanced at Able; his attention should be on the group. It wasn’t. He was staring at her, the heat running through his blood clear. She rubbed her lips together to stifle a smile that started and tore her gaze away from him.
Sabene pulled her laptop out of her leather bag and set it on the table, plugging in the drive. With a couple taps of her fingers, the video appeared on the right screen. “Do you know when Agent Wheeler started to code?”
“Around eleven thirty,” Rife answered. “I copied the last twelve hours.”
“I bet you did.” Sabene winked at Rife then found the time stamp and hit play. “He’s in the room across from the nurse’s station.”
There was a posted guard outside of the agent’s room. Nurses at the station would leave and come back sporadically. People were in and out of the hallway. There was no sound, but all of a sudden, two nurses ran into Agent Wheeler’s room and a doctor followed seconds later.
“Back it up farther.” Able observed the screen intently.
They watched the video play from the beginning at a high speed.
“There.” Able pointed. “Can you get a good picture of the face?”
Sabene focused in on the head of the male dressed in scrubs complete with a sterile blue hat covering his hair, coming out of the agent’s room. There was a clear view of most of his face from the right side.
“Rodney.” Rife crossed his arms.
“Isn’t that what you expected?” Teagan asked. The guy’s face was marred with pockmarks and he was short. She’d pictured a frat boy polish rather than a dude ready for his AARP discount at Denny’s.
Able let out an audible breath. “Unfortunately.”
“So he really is involved, and then we have Hume doing exactly what we didn’t want.” Samson didn’t look pleased. “He went after Teagan hard.” He crossed his arms and raised his brows at Able. “That was pretty ballsy of him, bro.”
“He’s more aggressive than we planned. It shouldn’t surprise us though. His whole tactic so far has been aggressive.” Able directed his focus to Rife. “What did you find out on your field trip earlier?”
“I checked out a club some friends frequent. There’re rumors floating around about contractors being targeted, but no one has the full story involving Hume or not. No one has teamed up or knows directly about another pro dying. Just the three. A couple of them are jumpier and have plans to work abroad until this heat dies down. I asked for a heads up if any see a contract come through on a fellow hitter. I wasn’t specific on who.”
Son of a bitch. She’d walked among a whole world of assassins her entire life without knowing they existed.
“Perfect. That was a productive trip. Any family contacts?” Able asked.
“Nope.” Rife shook his head.
“Family?” Who the fuck raised a child to be a cold-hearted killer?
“There are groups of contractors who are aligned and extremely loyal. We refer to them as families.” Able stared at the screen and brushed his index finger over his chin.
That was one way to fit in when you were a professional murderer.
“It would be a good thing if none of them are involved.” Samson shook his head. “That’s a completely different conversation. Family members tend to take it personally when one of their own are killed—which leads to extreme violence, accompanied by big assumptions and very little questioning.
“We know the two from the park were German,” Able got back to the business of facts. “We don’t know if they are in a family or not. There were at least two more waiting in the wings to clip us, so it’s likely.”
“Which fucks us. Now we have to get them all,” Samson said.
“Whoa. We are taking on an entire family now?” Claire held up her palm. Teagan didn’t blame her—this was more than any of them had signed up for. Herself included.
“Not if we can help it.” Able’s answer was reassuring somehow. He was on the ball with solutions. It was refreshing. “They’ve seen a couple of our faces now. Although they probably already had our photos. The rest of you, I believe, are in the clear at the moment. If you want to walk away, now would be the time.”
Samson and Claire seemed to be in a staring contest. Claire looked away first. “I’m in. I think it would be prudent to avoid a feud with a family if possible.”
“I have your pictures from the park, but the pros may be hard to track down.” Sabene perked up from her seat. “I doubt they are in any American system. I’ll check abroad first.”
No one made a move for the door or looked ready to protest their involvement.
“Rife, Samson, Claire, and Milo check out that haunt over on Sixth and Court and the other one over on Ninth. I’ve heard the Germans prefer them. Either one may yield info. Split up so that you aren’t seen as moving in a group,” Able ordered. “We can gather intel the old- fashioned way.”
“I’ll keep after Rodney. See what I can get from his visit to the hospital,” Sabene offered.
“We need to find him. I’ll be on my phone.” Able glanced at Teagan.
If they weren’t going on the fact-finding mission then that left … where? His fortress?
“I’m taking Teagan to a safe spot until Hume makes the payment. Once he does, we’ll know he found out his attempt to take Teagan’s life failed miserably. Which should be any time now.”
Relief slumped her shoulders. She was perfectly happy calling it a day and heading back to his place for the night. She was 100 percent safe there.
Chapter Ten
Able unlocked his front door and let Teagan enter first. He swept the outside parameter—no one had followed them.
“What is that smell?” Teagan stopped at the top of the stairs.
“Dinner.”
“More of your people at your beck and call?”
The smell of seared beef and spices filled his nostrils. His stomach grumbled. “We need to eat and I didn’t feel like cooking.”
“Smells like steak.”
He stepped on the panel to illuminate his home. “With a chimichurri sauce, sweet potato fries, and roasted vegetables. I’m sure Nina brought a paired wine. Then banana splits for dessert.” He took off his jacket and hung it in the closet to the right of the stairs.
“You’re kidding me. I haven’t had one of those in forever.” Teagan took her bag off her shoulder and set it on an end table by the oversized chair. “And the table is already set. It’s all
here.”
“That was the plan.”
“Mr. Fortress gives out his codes?”
“There are certain codes for certain people, and I get alerts.” He also changed them often and vetted people he relied on very closely.
“There’s the Able I’m getting to know.”
He scoffed with a small smile. “Let’s sit down for dinner.”
He poured wine into the two long-stemmed glasses on the table. Nina had left five minutes before they’d arrived home, so everything was hot and ready. He took the two silver covers off their plates and placed them on the island.
“If this is a normal day in your shoes, I can’t even imagine the rest of your life.” Teagan laid a black cloth napkin in her lap.
He chuckled. “This isn’t normal life. Not even for me.” He took his seat across from her. Dinner smelled divine. They’d been going, going, going today and hadn’t even slowed down for lunch.
“What is?” She sipped her red wine then cut a piece of her steak.
Not what he wanted to discuss. After the day she’d had, he’d expected her to be quiet. He tapped his index finger on the reclaimed wooden table then picked up his knife and fork. “Why don’t you tell me about your normal day?” he asked instead.
“Oh no, you aren’t getting out of this that easily.” The edges of her eyes crinkled.
Fine. It’s not like he was going to shock her out of her chair with any of the basic facts. “I get contacted for jobs then I do research to decide if I’m going to take them. Then if I do, we work out a timeframe and the client deposits the money.”
“Do you always do the same type of job?”
She couldn’t even say the words. Did he kill people for money with every contract? That’s what she wanted to know.
“Every contract is different. It could be sabotage or framing someone. Sometimes it is a hit.” He censored his word for her benefit. “And sometimes it’s intimidation or handling a situation the client isn’t equipped for, like an extraction. I’ve done a lot throughout the years.”
“How many years have you been at this?” She stabbed at her vegetables.
He cut into his steak as he felt his stomach rumble. “Enough to know when it’s time to fight and when it’s time to run.”
