Draw Blood

by Cynthia Rayne

  Aggie leaned forward and pressed her cheek to his. When he didn’t recoil, she rubbed her nose against his, a prelude to a kiss. And then rested her forehead against him.

  Ten gave a small, anguished moan.

  She couldn’t seem to get close enough. Aggie wanted to kiss him, lose herself in the oblivion of his arms, but she wouldn’t push him. If Ten wanted this, it had to be on his own terms.

  And then he stood, clearing his throat. “It’s gettin’ late, you should be headin’ home. I’ll swing by tomorrow if I have any news about the phone.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Guess who I heard from?”

  “No, thanks.” Ten rolled his eyes.

  “Why not?” Jasper asked.

  “Because I don’t care.”

  Jasper clenched his fists. “Dammit, Ten.”

  The next morning, Ten and Jasper were seated in an SUV waiting for a bookie who’d been stiffing the outfit. They’d caught the man double dipping, and it would be his last mistake.

  The other day, they’d sent Rebel to handle the situation, one of the soldiers, and he’d botched it, threatening the wrong man. So now their target was extra nervous and knew they were coming. Fortunately, they’d anticipated his escape plan. He was currently packing his bags, ready to make a run for it.

  Outside, it was pouring down rain, and it sloshed all over the windshield. Because of the torrential downpour, he doubted the bookie would be leaving his apartment building anytime soon, so they might as well talk.

  He sighed. “Fine, who did you hear from?”

  “Mary.”

  “Oh?”

  It was a foolish move on her part. If she’d sent something through the mail, it could’ve been traced back to her. Jasper told him she was living under an assumed identity so she could avoid contact with anyone she’d known in her previous life.

  Her granddad might be dead and buried, but the man had loads of enemies, who’d love to get their hands on his granddaughter, for all kinds of despicable reasons.

  “Yeah, I don’t know where she is. It was sent from the Seattle post office, but Mary said she wasn’t in Washington state.”

  At least she’d taken some basic precautions with her security. There were several remailing services available for a price, and they’d keep a person’s location secret. People fleeing from a stalker often used them to communicate with friends and family.

  “Did Mary say what she’s up to?”

  “She gave me the basics, like attendin’ school and working, but nothin’ about where she is specifically.” Jasper gave a long-suffering sigh. “I miss her.”

  Whatever. Ten was bored just hearing about it. Definitely, time to change the subject.

  “What do you know about pleasin’ a woman?”

  “Excuse me?” Jasper gave him the side eye. “No offense, but I ain’t talkin’ about sex with you.”

  “Why not? I thought we were friends.”

  At the very least, Ten had been trying to get closer to Jasper, expanding his boundaries and such. It had been something of a process. Confiding in others didn’t come naturally to him, and yet he yearned for a connection now and then.

  It was a real Catch-22.

  Truthfully, he wanted to get closer to Aggie, not Jasper, but he didn’t know what in tarnation he was doing. Since Jasper had gotten serious with Vick, he must know what women want. Therefore, Ten just had to persuade him to fess up.

  “We are friends, sort of.” Jasper wrinkled his nose.

  “Then you should share with me.”

  “That stuff is private.”

  “I can keep a secret if you can.” Ten snapped his fingers. “And I can prove it to you.”

  “How?”

  No point in pussyfootin’ around. “I know you and Vick killed Simon and his associate, but I didn’t say a word. Or maybe Simon’s cartel friend killed him, and then you took care of Simon’s partner in crime. I’m not sure, exactly.”

  Jasper coughed. “No, we didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did, and I think you made the right decision, by the way. Simon was stalkin’ Vick and wouldn’t back off, and his accomplice wanted everybody dead, so you didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

  Jasper pressed a hand against his mouth, as though he were about to be sick.

  Ten continued on. “I know it’s even more complicated since they have ties to the cartel.”

  “Enough. How do you know this?”

  “I have my ways.”

  Ten made it a point to keep tabs on people, in case he discovered something he could use for leverage. His tendency to snoop had saved his ass more times than he could count.

  “And you haven’t breathed a word of this to Byron or Dix, right?”

  “Nope, and it’ll stay that way, provided you help me, of course.”

  “Christ.” Jasper cleared his throat. “Okay, let’s start at the beginnin’. What do you want to know, exactly?”

  “I don’t know.” Ten shrugged. “Anything that might be useful.”

  Although, he’d been hoping for some bedroom tips.

  He’d been sexually active as long as he could remember, but it had never been about pleasure. The vast majority of his experience with intercourse had been steeped in shame and degradation.

  “Is this about the little private eye you’ve been watchin’ like a hawk?”

  His jaw clenched. “How do you know about her?”

  “Justice mentioned her in passin’, and I heard about the two of you eatin’ breakfast together.”

  The biker had been on the roof with both of them when Ten had met Aggie. At the time, he’d been visiting his girlfriend in the burn unit, after she was injured in a household fire.

  “Why do you wanna know?”

  “Curiosity. I’ve never seen you look twice at a woman.”

  “Maybe I haven’t found the right one, until now.”

  The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted. Most people exhausted him, but not Aggie. He found himself absorbed with her, astonished by the things she said, eager for another encounter.

  He’d almost kissed her and he’d never done that before, not willingly at least. Ten found it strange, since he’d engaged in so many deviant acts, but kissing was intimate, based on longing, more than lust. Unconsciously, he ran a fingertip over his lips.

  What would it feel like? How would Aggie taste?

  “You really want my advice?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” His fixation with her didn’t show any signs of letting up. Giving into his obsession seemed to be the only sensible solution.

  “Women are complicated, so be very sure this is somethin’ you wanna do.” Jasper cocked his head to one side. “Don’t string her along.”

  “I’d never hurt her.”

  “And what exactly are you doin’ with this girl?”

  “We’re workin’ together.”

  “On what?”

  “A project?”

  “What project?”

  Ten merely glared.

  “Yeah, nice try. I recognize the desperate look on your face, and this ain’t about a job.”

  “You’re mistaken.”

  “Come on, don’t hold out on me, not after you threw my dirty laundry in my face. What are you workin’ on?”

  “I ain’t at liberty to say, but it doesn’t involve the outfit.”

  Jasper held up a finger. “There’s my first tip for you, if you’re gonna be with a woman, you gotta be willin’ to talk it out.”

  “Talk what out?” This was making no sense whatsoever.

  “Everything. She’ll wanna know what’s going on in your head at all times. And she’ll wanna hear about your past, too.”

  He frowned. “I don’t know if I can do that.” Even the thought of spilling his secrets filled Ten with dread. There were some things best left unsaid.

  “Yeah, I’m doubtful, too. Seriously, how did you find out about Simon?”

  Ten sighed. “Because I ain’t
stupid, the two of you were mopin’ around this place for weeks.” He smirked. “And I’m aces at surveillance.”

  And then Ten noticed the bookie streaking across the parking lot with a newspaper over his head to ward off the rain. “There’s our guy.”

  “Let’s do this.” They both jumped out of the SUV and took off across the blacktop.

  ***

  “Why don’t you stay with Coop and me tonight?”

  Aggie pressed the phone tighter to her ear. “Polly, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine.” Ever since she’d told Polly about the phone call, she’d been in mother-hen mode, worried about Aggie’s safety.

  “You’d be better with Coop lookin’ over your shoulder.” Polly’s husband, a former Marine, might be creeping up on sixty, but he was in excellent shape. He ran five miles a day and could bench press his own body weight.

  Thankfully, Polly hadn’t been on the receiving end of any threats. Aggie had really poked a bear this time—a big, nasty, homicidal grizzly. There was bound to be some fallout eventually.

  And she hadn’t backed off this case, despite her better judgment. Aggie knew no one else was looking for the children and she wouldn’t stop until she’d exhausted every opportunity to find them.

  She’d spent the day trying to find Santiago’s property holdings in Mexico. It was more difficult than she’d thought. Aggie had run into a tangled mess of shell corporations, which she hadn’t been able to sort through.

  “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

  “Well, Coop and I have a spare bedroom ready and waitin’ for you if you change your mind.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, sugar. You take care now, you hear?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And then she hung up the phone.

  Aggie grabbed some cold cuts from the fridge and made herself a sandwich, checked her email, and puttered around. If she kept busy, Aggie wouldn’t have time to worry about what the future might hold.

  And then Aggie heard a rustle in the bushes outside her front door.

  She smiled to herself.

  Evidently, Ten hadn’t been able to stay away.

  He’d never been far from her mind today. When she wasn’t freaking out about Santiago, or trying to find the bastard’s hidey holes, she’d been distracted by visions of Ten laying her out on his grand piano and having his way with her.

  Aggie unlatched the door and opened it. “Ten, I told you to knock, not skulk around in the shadows, get in here and let’s talk.”

  And then a hail of bullets flew by her head and smashed into the wall behind her.

  For a moment, she stood there gaping, frozen and unable to believe her own eyes. Then another spray of bullets smashed into the wall, shredding it into splinters.

  With a shriek, Aggie hit the floor.

  Right about now, Ten’s bodyguard offer sounded like an excellent idea. Aggie should’ve taken him up on it. She thrust a hand forward and slammed the door shut, although it didn’t matter much. The bullets ripped through the wood like it wasn’t even there.

  Whoever was outside had an automatic weapon and he was playing with her.

  Aggie was such an easy target, she might as well have been standing outside, waving her arms with a red bullseye on her chest. She crawled on her belly into the next room, as the furniture and walls around her exploded, bits of plaster fell on her head, and the wood fractured. He shot at the china cabinet in the dining room, and the plates shattered sending shards all over the carpet.

  While she should be terrified, Aggie was strangely exhilarated.

  Adrenaline rushed through her veins, and her hands shook a bit. Her breath came in pants, and she was filled with a nervous sort of excitement. She hadn’t felt so alive in months.

  Clamping a hand over her mouth, she stifled a whoop. If she gave away her exact location, he’d nail her.

  Okay, I’m cracking up. What’s wrong with me?

  Another round of bullets crashed into the house busting out the windows, and her enthusiasm dampened a bit.

  I have to get out of here.

  But how?

  The shooter blocked the only exit—she didn’t have a back or side door. Aggie was effectively trapped inside, which only left the window in the kitchen. If she could sneak out of it, Aggie might be able to reach her car before the assassin picked her off.

  Might.

  As the assault continued, she fished a spare set of keys off the hook in the kitchen. Fortunately, her gun was on the counter. She’d taken it off while she’d made the sandwich earlier. Gritting her teeth, Aggie climbed onto the counter, settling her knees in the kitchen sink and shoved the window up. They’d been painted shut several times over the years, so the paint flaked and the window creaked as it slowly edged upwards.

  “Come on, come on, come on.” Finally, it gave way, sliding up.

  When she’d made a large enough space to crawl out of, Aggie shimmied through the window and tumbled onto the grass below. Her ankle twisted and she pushed a hand over her mouth to muffle a pained scream.

  She scrambled to her feet and limped over to the car, which was only a few yards away, but it felt like she had several football fields to travel.

  “Stop right there.” A man stepped onto the driveway, holding a revolver this time. The AK-47 was strapped to his back. He wore a ski mask so Aggie couldn’t see his face.

  At times like this, it would pay to have nosy neighbors nearby. At the very least, they could call 911 so the boys in blue could retrieve her bullet-ridden body in a timely fashion.

  She crouched behind a car door, making herself as small of a target as possible.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” Aggie called.

  “All you need to know is, Santiago sent me.” He raised the handgun and fired off a shot. Pain exploded in her shoulder as blood gushed from the wound, staining her shirt. “He wants to have a word with you—face to face.”

  Santiago probably wanted to make an example of her. He was the kind of creep who’d go all medieval warlord on somebody, maybe cut off her head and put it up on YouTube, as a warning to other people. Maggie really didn’t want to find out what the man’s plans were.

  “Then why’d you shoot up my place?” Aggie had to keep him talking.

  “To get your attention.”

  “Well, it worked.” She moved to the side and fired off a shot, and he squatted down low. “Just as a warnin’, you ain’t the only one with a gun.” And you won’t take me alive.

  “If you don’t come with me willingly, I have orders to kill you.”

  With a yelp, Aggie tugged the handle, but it didn’t budge. At least he hadn’t used the other gun yet, or one side of her body would be a mess of raw hamburger meat.

  It was locked.

  “Dammit!” With icy cold fingers, Aggie rifled through the keys, trying to find the right one to unlock the door as the shooter got closer.

  He shot out the windows, and they shattered.

  “Do you know what his plans are?” Aggie shouted, stalling for time.

  The man gave a dirty chuckle. “No idea, but I can guarantee you won’t like it.”

  Finally, Aggie got the door open and threw herself inside. She jammed the key in the ignition, threw the truck in gear, and slammed her foot on the gas pedal.

  As she sped down the driveway, her assailant sprayed the back of her car with gunfire, slicing right through the metal and she crouched low over the steering wheel.

  Tires screeching, Aggie took off for Crimson Creek.

  Chapter Eight

  What a day.

  After teaching the bookie a lesson, Ten had gone to Poison Fruit. He’d spent the rest of his afternoon in the vineyard checking on his grape arbors. He noticed subtle changes in the vines, monitored their progress. He often visited after he’d taken someone out and it was something of a ritual.

  Maybe it was a way of purging the dark thoughts, or making up for what he’d done. Regardl
ess, he felt better after he’d taken care of the plants.

  His employees had left a couple of hours ago, but Ten stayed to go through his bills. Running a small business was time-consuming, especially when it was used to launder mob money.

  When Ten heard a knock on the front door, he ignored it and went back to his spreadsheets. The knock became pounding, and then the doorbell rang.

  Evidently, someone wanted to see him pretty bad.

  Grabbing his gun, Ten headed down the hall to check out the commotion. Although, he doubted an enemy would announce his presence before he started shooting. At the front door, he found a bedraggled Aggie standing at his doorstep, and she was soaked with blood.

  Ten flung open the door. “What happened?” He stepped aside so she could enter. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes and no. I got shot, but it ain’t life-threatenin’, yet.”

  His mind was racing, flooding with a stream of violent images. He wanted to head straight over to her house and track down the man who’d hurt her, but first Ten had to care for Aggie’s wound.

  “Dammit. You should’ve taken me up on the offer of protection.”

  She winced. “I’m not disagreein’ with you.”

  Ten wrapped an arm around her waist and half-carried her into the dining room. Aggie had a bit of a limp, and she was shivering, shaking. Aggie’s face had gone ashen, and he didn’t know if it was from shock or blood loss. There were cuts all over her face and bruises on her arms.

  Ten recognized the distress in her eyes because he’d seen it in the mirror so many times. Although, he was grappling with a new sensation—panic. Seeing her injured made the hair stand up on the nape of his neck.

  “Walk me through what happened.”

  “One of Santiago’s men shot up my place like it was an old western saloon. He said Santiago wanted to see me in person.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that.” He fisted his hands. “Did you get a good look at the shooter?” Because it would be his pleasure to take care of the man for her. “And what kind of weapon did he use?”

  “An AK-47 and a handgun. The assassin/kidnapper guy wore a ski mask so I couldn’t identify him. I’m sorry to bring this problem to your door, but I’ve got nowhere else to go. If I went to the hospital, they’d tell the police.” She grimaced as he helped her to a seat.