"You don't have much of a poker face. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Where the fuck is the painting?"
What was I going to do? No way could I get past him. The intercom button. Closer to me than Wilson. I didn't look at it. His eyes were trained on mine. Anything I looked at, he'd know. Yeah, I was a lousy poker player and an even worse liar, but I wasn't stupid.
On my side, I toed off my shoes. Not a weapon. Distraction. I needed a distraction.
He wanted information. Despite the gun, I doubted he'd kill me before he got it.
I jumped up, threw both shoes at his head. Surprised, he lowered his gun to duck, but only for a second. He raised the gun again, aimed it straight at my chest. I fell back against the intercom, aiming with my elbow under the guise of cowering. I felt the button compress. Yes!
"You bitch!"
"Please don't hurt me."
"Tell me where it is, or I'm going to fucking shoot you in the stomach. A gut shot takes a while to kill. If you still don't tell me, I'll cap your knees, your arms. Trust me, you'll talk."
"We're in a police station! No way are you going to get out of here!"
"Of course, I will. Your asshole lover and his best pal are going to keep working on that idiot Jones for hours. I'll lock the door and stroll on out. They won't find you until you're long dead."
Hoping that was enough, I shouted, "Jake! Shoot the glass! I’m clear!”
I dropped to my knees, trying to crawl under the table. The locked door meant the glass window was the only way inside.
"Stupid bitch. This room is soundproof," Wilson snarled. His twisted expression morphed to horror when he realized where I'd been sitting.
The glass exploded. Two, no three, shots blasted, and glass sprayed everywhere. Something, someone, rammed on the door. Wilson whirled between both.
He grabbed me, dragging me out by my hair. I screamed, kicking out, trying to get free.
"Let go of her and drop the gun, Wilson," Jake demanded.
The door finally burst open, cops spilling into the room, shouting. Too many to fight. Wilson let go of my arm and dropped his gun and put his hands up.
Jake flung his jacket over the glass shards of the window and hurdled through. He picked me up, holding me tight to his chest. His breath bellowed, his heart pounding hard against my ear.
"Did he hurt you?"
He pulled back to look me over, his gaze lingering on my cheek.
"Nothing an icepack won't fix." I narrowed my eyes as he opened his mouth to protest. "No hospital."
We watched as Wilson was cuffed and hauled out the door. Similar sounds came from the interview room, but I didn't bother to look. I nestled into Jake's chest.
"Let's get you out of here."
"In a minute."
"No hospital," I repeated, aware of his evasiveness.
He laughed, standing up and carrying me across the glass-littered room. In the hall, I became aware of the crowd. People were watching us.
"I mean it. I just want to go home. With you."
He stopped dead still and kissed me hard. Wolf-whistles let loose, but I didn't give a damn.
"And I want to take you home," he said, pulling away. "But you need to make a statement about what just happened. Now. A cop involved takes this to a whole different level. We need to find out what they're after. It'd have to be damned important. Finding it will stop these attacks. My heart can't handle any more of this."
I smiled, kissed him again, and pushed away. He released my legs reluctantly, letting my feet touch the ground.
"About that. I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but I know what they are after."
Hannah
I swam through the warm water, my strokes neither slow nor fast.
I wasn’t trying to outrace my demons, though God knows I've gained enough in the last few days to haunt me forever. I refused to swim slow and give in to the exhaustion either. Like always, each stroke through the water, each kick, and each splash soothed me.
Knowing Jake was there, watching from the hot tub, relaxed me even more. I flipped at one end and headed the other direction. The darkness and quiet solitude helped as well. Past midnight, and well past the time of allowed pool hours, we were alone.
I liked that. Alone, quiet, peaceful.
In the end, both Jones and Wilson were hired thugs. Their employer wanted the painting for what was hidden underneath. The top layer turned out to be fake - or as Wilson put it, a knock-off.
Underneath held extensive information on illegal dealings - money transfers, bribes, and details of those involved. Human trafficking, museum thefts you name it.
The estate heirs had no idea their father was involved in such ongoings. Probably pissed off as the police impounded everything left, including the mansion. No more money for quite some time, if ever.
Funny how life turns on a dime.
I stopped at the end, gripped the side, and looked up at Jake. My life had certainly turned on a dime, and I'm not talking about the painting ordeal. No, this change was all Jake. I stripped off my goggles to look at him. Gorgeous, strong, and all mine.
He smiled down at me. "Finished?"
"Not nearly."
I hopped out of the pool and joined him in the hot tub.
His eyes narrowed, glinting with desire.
"I am finished swimming."
I pulled my bathing suit top over my head and tossed it over the side, followed by the bottoms. Luckily, I’d worn my two piece. Well, luck and some planning.
I reached under the water and tugged at the ties holding his trunks in place. Once loosened, I pulled them down just far enough to free his penis. I gripped it, stroking his length, smiling when I found him already rock hard.
I straddled him, my knees balancing on the hot tubs slick seat, reaching under the water again to position him exactly where I wanted him. He groaned, his head falling back against the hot tub edge, his jaw clenched in the way I now knew was an effort to control himself.
I sank, pushing lower and lower until he was deep inside me. He gripped my hips and thrust upward, dragging me even closer.
Perfect.
“But I’m not nearly finished with you. In fact, I don’t think I ever will be finished with you.”
He grabbed my ass, his fingers delving between the cheeks, spurring my speed onward. He dipped down to capture one nipple, sucking hard.
“I love you, Hannah.”
The words. God, the words. They sent me over the edge, and Jake slapped a hand over my mouth as I screamed my release. I drifted there, gripping his shoulders as he pounded to his finish.
“I love you, too,” I whispered into the retuning quiet. “And I am so happy Mrs. Grant does not have a poolside view.”
THANK YOU
I hope you enjoyed Hunting Hannah as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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You can view my other novels on my Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/jamesscarlet
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