Window. Okay. They saw us.
This is not necessarily a good thing because they’re new. If they panic and try to come through the door or take any action besides shooting this guy through the window, Mitch is toast and there isn’t a thing I can do about it.
Okay. Think. Think. “Look. You can finish the job if you want. Fine by me. But you’d better talk to the Big K yourself first. He doesn’t like anyone getting involved in his business.”
“I’m already involved; I hired him.”
“You? You hired Kristoff? So you’re a Kemmler.”
The man frowns, and somehow I know I fucked up. “I know you. You’re that woman bodyguard who was all over the news. You took that bullet.”
Ugh. My cover is blown.
“Abi, this is Norton Weeno,” says Mitch. “The owner and founder of Weeno.”
Oh. So that’s where the horrible name came from. Wait. Why’s he here?
“Dammit.” Norton shakes his head. “Why couldn’t Kristoff finish the job like I asked. Now I have to do it myself and bury two bodies.”
“You don’t need to do this, Norton,” Mitch says, trying his best to remain calm. “You can keep the two million. I’ll go grab the contract right now and tear it up.”
My mind does a quick sprint through the facts. Oh! Ohhh… Mitch is supposed to get a payout at the end of his Weeno contract, and the company is about to go under. So no more Mitch means no need to pay him. And with everything that’s been playing out in the media, the Kemmlers or Kristoff will get the credit for killing Mitch. Nobody will suspect Weeno.
“It was you all along,” I conclude, “wasn’t it? You put the hit out on Mitch. You can’t afford to pay him because your company is going bankrupt. I’m even guessing you hope to save Weeno with that money.”
Norton narrows his eyes. “Shut up.”
“I’m right though, aren’t I?” I ask.
“I said shut up. Now move next to your boyfriend there.”
“I’ll do it on one condition, Mr. Weeno; say hello to Mr. Leland Merrick, who’s been all over my ass trying to get a scoop.” I slide the phone from the pocket of the robe and set it on the kitchen island. “Say hi, Leland. You get all that?”
“Love, I most certainly did.” Leland’s voice crackles over the little speaker. “One hell of a back scratch, Abi. I’ll have the story and these audio files out within the hour. Or…Mr. Norton, you could let these nice people go, and I will give you a head start. I hear Nepal is lovely and doesn’t have an extradition treaty with the US. Your other option, of course, is to shoot them in cold blood and spend the rest of your life being someone’s Weeno girl. For the record, I’m fine with all the options since I’ll get the story.”
“Jeez. Thanks, Leland,” I say.
“So what’s it going to be, Norton?” Mitch asks. “Take whatever money you have and run, or kill us and go to prison?”
“You know, I blame you for Weeno failing,” he says to Mitch. “You were supposed to promote our brand, but instead you just made regular men feel inadequate. We had to spend more and more money on those damned inserts because they all wanted to look like you! But could we raise our prices? No.”
In the back of my mind, I can hear Leland drooling. More dirt.
“You should’ve come to me,” Mitch says. “We could’ve worked something out.”
“I wanted to. I tried.” He begins to cry. “But your army of agents threatened to sue me.”
Oh, boo-hoo. “Please put down the gun now, Mr. Weeno, because there are two high-powered rifles pointed at your head, and I’m sure both will hit the target.” Words cannot describe how happy I am that the new night-watch guys are well trained. They didn’t panic and try to storm the kitchen so the bad guy could be apprehended. We’re not the police. We don’t worry about arrests or trials. It’s about saving the person who’s put their life in our hands. Nothing more.
Norton looks up and notices the red dots coming through the window.
“I’d get on the floor if I were you,” I say. “They’re trained to shoot after ten seconds. Seven, eight, nine, te…”
He does as I ask, and before we know it, Sam’s night watch is inside, hog-tying Norton Weeno.
“Wow.” Mitch lets out a long breath. “That was intense. I think I wet myself just a little.”
“There’s a trickle running down my leg as we speak. No joke. Or that could be your baby juice. I’m not sure.”
“Guys. Guys!” Leland barks. “I’m still on the phone.”
Oops. “If you print that last part, I’ll break you, Leland. Goodbye.”
“What? No thank-you? No God bless you, Leland, for saving our lives?” he says.
“Thank you. God bless you, Leland. Goodnight.” I end the call and look up at Mitch.
“How are you so calm and collected? There’s a guy on my kitchen floor who just tried to kill us.”
I look over at Sam’s crew, who are in the process of securing Norton and calling the police. “Feels like another day at the office to me. Wanna take a shower?”
Mitch shakes his head and laughs. “Can I make us sandwiches first? Stress makes me really hungry.”
“Okay. Just don’t put anything healthy in mine. I hate vegetables.”
“We’re going to have to work on your eating habits.”
I can think of a lot of other things I’d like to work on, starting with getting to know Mitch better. I know we have insane chemistry. I know we make each other laugh and can talk about anything. I know I’m falling madly in love with him. But what excites me most is getting to know everything about him. He oozes confidence and it’s something I’ve always wanted to have more of. “I think we’re going to be really good for each other, Mitch. Really, really good.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Mitch
Damn, woman, are you trying to give me a heart attack? As I’m gripping Abi by the hips, fucking her from behind with everything I’ve got, I’m pretty sure she’s the one who was meant to be a world-class athlete.
“Harder. Harder.” She pants.
I work my thick shaft, aiming for that spot that drives her wild. Don’t get me wrong. I love having sex with her, but this is the fourth time tonight. The Bulge needs his rest.
“There! There! Right there!” she yells.
Bingo. I lean into her and press the head of my cock until the chain reaction starts. The moan, the orgasmic contractions, her hair whipping back, and…her walls tighten around my cock, giving me just what I want.
I come hard, feeling her muscles milk my shaft for every drop of cum. I can’t help growling through every second of it. She makes me feel like an animal, raw and fierce, reduced to nothing but her sex slave. Abi’s smooth skin and soft curves have been replaced by lean muscle since her bootcamp, and I’ll take her any way I can get her. It’s not every day you find a girl who’s this loyal, this protective, this smart and beautiful. We’re still getting to know each other, but with each day, I fall more madly in love with her.
Finally, our climaxes subside, and I pull out. Condom intact. Check! She’s already taking the pill, but after that first little scare, we’re not taking any chances. We want to take this time for us before we start thinking of the next step, even if I know we’ll get there. I’m already visualizing it. Abi, the most beautiful mother in the world. Me, the best dad ever. Us happy with two incredible little swimmers. Yes, I do mean children. Don’t be silly, mate.
I go to the bathroom, clean up, and return to bed, where Abi is tucked under the covers with a dew-covered brow and a content smile on her pink little lips.
I get in next to her and pull her tiny body to my chest. This last week has been crazy with all of the press, the police statements, and the sponsorship offers. No, I’m not going to swim competitively anymore. I’m going to focus on finishing my degree in sports management and helping others reach their goals, but it turns out there are still plenty of companies out there who’d like me to endorse their produc
ts. And not just me, but Abi, too. Bullet Buster, the bulletproof vest she wore the night Ash shot her, offered five hundred thousand dollars if she’d be their spokesperson. She nearly wet her trousers when she got the news. Her mom keeps her house, tuition is paid for, and Abi has her money to start that charity she’s been talking about. Of course, I’d planned to help her with all of it, but I know she likes paying her own way. She’s proud like that.
“Hey, so.” She makes tiny circles over my pec. It tickles, but I let her do it anyway. “I was wondering if you’re going back to Sydney anytime soon?”
“I was supposed to go for Kristoff’s trial, but who knows when that will be. They need to find him first.” The good news is I won’t have to testify against the Kemmlers. Since Norton Weeno confessed to hiring Kristoff to kill me, there’s no real crime to accuse them of. They tried to keep their family’s past quiet, but that’s not against the law. Now the photos are out and their company is going down the shitter. I almost felt sorry for them until Leland Merrick caught them on a hot mic during their interview, saying they only wished they’d killed me. It would have saved their company.
“Can I come with you when you go?” Abi asks. “I think I’d like to see where you grew up. Meet a few of your friends? Not Ash, though. Already met him. Yuck.”
“I only keep in touch with a few people. And the only close family I had was my uncle.” I should have spent more time with him when he was alive. It’s one of my biggest regrets. “He was always there—every meet, every practice. He was a good man.”
“Sounds like it.”
He was the best. “Albert taught me, just like my Grandfather George taught him, that you should never be ashamed of having pride. Pride is what drives ordinary people to do great things.” “Without a deep sense of self and belief that you are meant to win, the only people who would go to war are the tyrants and psychopaths. But thank God for our pride—in our countries, our families, and ourselves. Otherwise, we’d be living in a very different world right now.” All of the wisdom in our family seemed to be war, history, or ancestor related. To be expected, I suppose, when your grandfather was a World War II photographer and your uncle was in the Special Forces.
“Oh, so he’s responsible for that giant ego of yours.” Abi laughs. “I wish I could have met your uncle.”
“Me too.” That’s been the hardest part about this past week. Knowing that my uncle will never get to meet her. He would have liked Abi. Her wits, her sassy mouth, her brave heart. But Norton hired Kristoff, and that means the bullet that killed my uncle wasn’t about the photos and was probably meant for me. It could have been avoided if Norton had just talked to me. Whatever happens to him, he’s got it coming.
“By the way,” Abi asks, “what battles was your grandfather in during the war?”
I would tell her everything I know, but maybe it’s too early in our relationship to disclose that I am, in fact, a huge history nerd. Have been since I was a kid. Had I not become a swimmer, I likely would have ended up a history professor. I blame my grandfather, who I never met but was a legend in our family and one of the only Australians involved in the infamous Battle of the Bulge. It was the final attempt by the Germans to win the war. The irony is they almost succeeded. The good guys got cocky and underestimated their enemy—a lesson I took with me to every competition. In the end, it was the Allied forces’ determination and unwillingness to accept any other outcome besides winning that ended the war.
See. Nerd alert! Yes, I do get the subtle humor of the battle’s name, too. Yet another reason I’ll wait to tell Abi my dirty nerd-secret. I figure I can let her keep believing I’m a perfect god before dropping the bombshell. Can’t wait to show her the pictures from my pudgy years, too. She’s never going to stop laughing. I looked like a furless baby seal.
“Let’s not talk about wars and history right now.” I pat her arm.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t even thinking about the whole Kemmler thing. Shame what happened to their company. But I told my mom that she should look into making greeting cards. There was a huge shortage for Valentine’s Day. I had to go to three different stores to find any, and then I finally decided just to make you one.”
Oh crap. “Uh…Valentine’s Day wouldn’t by chance be today, would it?” I ask.
She narrows her eyes. “Please, please tell me you didn’t forget our first Valentine’s Day together?”
I hop from the bed and peck her lips. “I’ll be right back!” I throw on some clothes, grab my wallet, and bolt from the room. Flowers. Chocolates. I wonder if they sell cars this late in the day.
Abi
I smirk as Mitch runs from the room like his pants are on fire. “What a dork.” Valentine’s Day is tomorrow. Still, that was seriously entertaining. I can’t wait to break it to him when he comes back.
My cell rings on the nightstand, and I see it’s that Gisselle woman. I hesitate to answer because she either wants something or she’s upset because Leland got to break that big story about Weeno.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Abi. Gisselle Walters here.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Listen, I need a favor.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s over. There’s no more story to tell.”
“Oh, there’s always more.”
“No.”
“What if I told you I know where Kristoff is?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. “Is he here? In the US?”
“I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine.”
“What is it with you people and your itchy backs?” I let out a breath, mulling it over. Of course I want to know where Kristoff is. He needs to be caught. Not that he’s coming after…Mitch…Oh, god! He totally will! Mitch is still a witness in his uncle’s murder. “What do you want?”
“Leland is trying to find Kristoff, too. I need you to throw him off my trail. I need this interview.”
“I’m sorry, but you want to interview this psycho, murdering hit man?” The papers say he’s killed over a hundred people. Gisselle is nuts if she’s going to run after that man.
“It’s the story of a lifetime. Will you help me or not?” she asks.
“Yes! Where is he?” Because my next call will be to Sam. Given his connections in the CIA and FBI, he’ll know what to do with the information and keep Kristoff far, far away from us.
“I’ll tell you after I get the interview. But in the meantime, I need you to call Leland and say you’re worried. Tell him I’ve run off to Poland. Warsaw. Tell him you’re worried because I went alone and you know Kristoff is crazy.”
This is Gisselle’s big plan? “But won’t he get suspicious? You guys are always trying to throw each other off.” I’ve heard their little fights.
“That’s the thing. This time it’s the truth. He won’t think to look there.”
“So…Kristoff is in Warsaw,” I say.
“No. Like I said, I’ll tell you where he is after I get the interview.”
“I’m thoroughly confused. But okay. Just as long as he’s not in the US.”
“Not yet, but he’s coming. Soon.”
The call ends, and I resist the urge to panic. I don’t even know if I should tell Mitch. He’s already been through so much, and I can’t stomach seeing him suffer.
No. I can handle this on my own. I’ll do as Gisselle asks and call Leland and then pass the information to Sam.
The thing is, I’d do anything for Mitch. Just like I’d do anything for my mom, Georgie, and other friends. Protecting those I love is what I’m good at.
I’m actually good at protecting people. Period. It dawns on me that maybe I shouldn’t give up being a bodyguard. I can do it part-time while finishing school and continue moonlighting after, when I’m starting my business. Hmmm…I’ll have to give it some thought. In the meantime…
“Don’t worry, Mitchipoo. The dirty hit man will never get near you.” I’ve always got his back. And I know he�
��s got mine.
My phone rings, and I see it’s Mitch. “Hello?”
“You’re in trouble when I get home, little woman. Today isn’t Valentine’s Day.”
I chuckle. “How’d you find out?”
“Doesn’t matter, because now the joke’s on you. I felt so guilty for missing it, I was on my way to buy you a Porsche. A big shiny red one.”
“Nuh-uh. You big liar.” I laugh.
“Guess you’ll never know now.”
He’s messing with me. At least I hope he is. I don’t want extravagant gifts. “I’m okay with whatever you give me tomorrow. Especially if it comes in a hot Australian package. Maybe it’ll have a bow around a very strategic part I’m super fond of?”
“Is it too soon to say I love you?” His voice isn’t playful anymore, and my smile drops away.
“No. It’s not.”
“Good. Because I plan to say it tomorrow. After I ask you to move in with me.”
I can’t help tearing up. It’s happening so fast, but in my heart, I know it’s right. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have gone through what we did and come out together on the other side. “Then I plan to say it back and tell you yes, I’d love to live with you.”
“What if we say it now?” Mitch is standing in the doorway, looking sexy as hell in a plain white T-shirt and worn jeans, holding his cell.
Every time I see him—those broad shoulders, the beautiful face, those sex-lips—he takes my breath away.
“I could live with that.” I stare into his eyes, filled with so much love, and I know that this man might not be alive if it weren’t for me, but I wouldn’t be living if it weren’t for him. “Happy Valentine’s Day. I love you, Mitch.”
He smiles. “Changed my mind. I’ll say it tomorrow. You’ll have to wait.”
Battle of the Bulge Page 17
