High-Stakes Bounty Hunter

by Melinda Di Lorenzo

  Sighing, he swung a look toward the spot where he knew the car should be sitting. He didn’t quite complete the glance, though, because when he swiveled his head, he caught a flash of unidentifiable color disappearing behind a building just a ways up the block. Noah’s spine tingled. It looked as though someone had been following him, seen that he’d been about to catch them, then hidden.

  What the hell?

  His gut wavered between wanting to duck out of sight and wanting to initiate an angry confrontation. Assuming someone was actually there, and he wasn’t just being paranoid. He held still and waited, his eyes on the now-empty spot, his mind on Elle and the man who’d been watching her. The two things had to be connected. A random tail, right at this moment, would be too coincidental, and while Noah’s job might bring him in contact with unsavory people now and then, he was careful enough that disgruntled clients weren’t an issue.

  And that’s what I get for breaking my own rules.

  He stared for another few seconds, but the street remained still, and Noah knew he had to make a choice. If someone was following him, they were unlikely to reappear while he watched. Growling wordlessly—and damning his spontaneous decision to approach the blonde in the first place—he opted to steal a quick look at the park. First, he sought the car, and his relief at finding it in the same spot was oddly deep. Next, he brought his attention to the park itself, scanning for the blonde. When he didn’t find her, his heart did an unusual thing—it squeezed hard in his chest with concern. He tried to tamp it down, but the effort only made it spike.

  Where was she?

  Momentarily forgetting about his own potential stalker, he slowed his perusal of the playground and surrounding area and told himself not to assume the worst. She could’ve taken off in search of her kid. Or maybe found somewhere quiet to call Kirk. Either made sense. Except as he mentally posited the theories, the sudden squeal of tires made him dismiss them altogether.

  Crap.

  His eyes flicked to the dark-colored sedan just in time to see it peel away. Rules and codes and excuses all disappeared with the taillights. Automatically, Noah’s attention dropped to the license plate, trying to memorize it before the car slipped completely out of sight. He caught only the last three digits, and he took three steps before remembering that he couldn’t chase down a vehicle while on foot. His brain went into analytical mode, slamming quickly through his options, and dismissing them twice as fast as they came. The first and only one that stuck was to call a business associate who had an uncanny ability to digitally stalk vehicles. The man came with a hefty price tag, though, and was questionable as hell in the ethics department.

  Only option, Noah thought grimly.

  He dragged his phone from his pocket, spun with the intention of placing the call and making his way home—where his resources were—at the same time. Except the turn yielded him another flash of moving color. His stalker was still there. Closer, even.

  Unusual tension rolled through Noah. He was accustomed to being in control. Now he had a missing woman, missing kid and missing car. Someone was tailing him, and he genuinely didn’t know which thing to shove to the top of his priority list.

  “Seriously,” he muttered. “I don’t have time for this garbage.”

  A voice on the other end of the phone spoke up then, making him jump.

  “You called me, man,” said his acquaintance. “No need to be so salty.”

  Noah grunted and started to pass off the call as a pocket dial, but then changed his mind. “Sorry, Spud. It’s Loblaw here.”

  “Yeah, man. I know who it is. I have call display. Like about six billion other people.”

  “Funny. You got time for a quick trace with a partial plate?”

  “No such thing as a quick trace with a partial.”

  Noah gritted his teeth. “How much?”

  “How fast you want it?” the other man replied.

  “Fast.” He didn’t mention the woman or her kid; it would only drive up the price.

  The other man paused, then said, “Double my standard fee.”

  Noah wanted to ask if he really expected to get that much, but Elle’s blue eyes filled his mind again, and he opted for not quibbling. “Fine. I’ll pay you in the usual way. But I’m gonna need to do it post job this time.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Time’s ticking by, Spud.”

  There was another pause. “Triple.”

  “Holy—Fine.” Noah ran his finger over his stubble and did his best to keep his voice level. “I need GPS coordinates pinged to this phone. Preferably.”

  “I’m not a flipping magician.”

  “You saying you’re incapable?” When he got no reply but a grunt, he continued. “Dark sedan. No make or model markings. Last three numbers are four-five-nine.”

  “That’s all you’re gonna give me? You can’t be—”

  Noah tapped the phone off before the other man could finish—and before he could ask for quadruple his rate—then pocketed the device. It wasn’t an ideal situation, and he far would’ve preferred to have gone after the car and the woman himself. But he was sure Spud would come through. He always had in the past. Knowing that a small bit of reassurance was in place, Noah narrowed his eyes in the direction of the flash of movement. Whoever was following him could probably answer a question or two about the rest of what was going on. It’d give him something to focus on, too, while he waited for Spud.

  “All right,” he said. “Let’s see if you can outmaneuver me.”

  He spun quickly, darted a quick look back and forth, then jogged across the road. Once on the other side, he pivoted again, and took off to his left. He passed two squat houses, then cut up a path that acted as a shortcut to the next block. Picking up his pace, he hurried past another three homes, around a corner, then straight through a yard.

  Noah wasn’t being particularly stealthy, but he wasn’t being elephant-esque, either. Too-subtle movements might mean losing the stalker for real. Too-obvious ones would give away his game.

  He kept going for a short while longer. Up the alley behind the yard. Between a truck and a camper van. Around a large shrub. Finally, he paused behind a six-foot fence, ducked down, and waited. It took only a few seconds before the light tap of approaching feet hit his ears.

  He tensed as they got closer. He prepared for a fight. Except when the person following him rounded the wooden slats, it wasn’t the hooded bandit he’d pictured. Instead, a petite body slammed into his chest, and a blond ponytail whacked him straight in face.

  Chapter 3

  For several panicked moments, Elle assumed the worst—that her plan to ditch the man in the car had failed. That he’d intercepted her attempt to catch up with the strange biker-type guy and that she was going to be hauled off and made to relive the nightmares of her past. And worse, she was going to have to watch Katie suffer through the same. Blackness hovered around her vision, and she thought she might faint.

  No! her mind protested. No, I can’t let this happen!

  She hadn’t run this far and protected Katie for this long to just lose it all because she was scared. Drawing on thoughts of saving the little girl, she forced herself to lift a fist in an attempt to fight off the attack. But a strong hand immediately closed on her wrist, stopping her before she could start. She lifted the other hand. Her assailant did the same. He held both her arms and said something she couldn’t hear over the frantic thrum of her pulse.

  A desperate scream built up in the back of her throat. But a heartbeat before it released, her sight cleared long enough for her to realize that her assumption was off. It wasn’t the man from the car. It was the one from the park. Noah. And he was looking down at her with the strangest mix of emotions on his stubble-dotted face. Confusion. Relief. Concern. Irritation. Under other circumstances, it might’ve been comical. But there was nothing
funny about the last fifteen minutes of her life. Nothing at all.

  Her body sagged a little. He dropped her wrists. And she stared up at the big man, her voice breaking more than she would’ve liked when she spoke to him.

  “Please,” she said. “You have to help me.”

  He blinked a slow blink, and Elle noted vaguely that his eyelashes were enviably long, and that his irises were the deepest shade of hazel she’d ever seen. She could see hesitation in them. A guardedness that she could relate to. One she thought was going to make him send her on her way. But after a second, even slower blink, he asked a question. Growled it, really.

  “Why the hell are you following me?”

  Elle exhaled. It was better than being told to leave.

  “I need your help,” she told him.

  He shook his head. “I don’t do what you need.”

  She lifted her chin. “What do you do?”

  His hazel eyes flicked pointedly up and down the alley. “What I don’t do is discuss my personal business in the middle of the street with women who’re chasing me.”

  She didn’t let his snappish tone deter her. She needed to be firm and strong. For Katie’s sake. At the thought of the little girl’s name, Elle’s throat burned.

  No, she told herself. Don’t cry. That’ll just make things worse.

  “I’m not interested in your personal business,” she replied in as even a tone as she could muster up. “I’m interested in your business business.”

  “I already told you I don’t do what you need.”

  “I heard you. But I don’t believe you.”

  His face darkened. “Calling me a liar isn’t going to help you plead your case.”

  “What will help me, then?” she countered. “Threats? Screams? Because whatever it is, I’ll do it. Katie is six. She’ll be terrified for good reason. And I’d throw myself in front of a bus to save her.”

  He ran a hand over his head in an exasperated way. “Call Kirk. Hire him. That’s what’ll help.”

  “I don’t want to hire him.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  For a second, Elle wasn’t sure what to say. When Noah had slipped away, she’d tried to call the number he’d given her. But as she’d punched in the last digit, she’d frozen. In all the years that she’d been on the run, she’d never told a soul her story. She’d never asked for help. But God knew she needed it then. For Katie’s sake, she’d willed herself to hit the final number. To have the strength to explain that she knew who had her kid. To admit that trying to find her was going to mean risking lives. Like, really risking. But that she’d take the chance. And then she’d have to hope like crazy that when she was done explaining it all, the unknown person on the other end of the line might still say yes.

  But as she’d stood there, staring down at the phone, she’d realized she didn’t have to go through those motions. Not if she was able to use the resource that had just tumbled into her life. Noah. Who was clearly competent. Who had to have some kind of know-how in the current kind of situation.

  Of course, standing here now, it seemed a little crazy to have run after him. Because as reassuring as his presence might’ve been in the park, he was a complete stranger. And intimidating.

  A complete stranger whom you’re asking for help.

  It was true. But Elle had to take the best option she had. And he was it. If she had to trust anyone with any of it, this was the man she was going to pick. So she opted for a bit of honesty.

  “Because I want to hire you,” she admitted.

  “I just told you this isn’t what I do.”

  “I don’t care what it is you normally do.”

  “Look. Even if I made an exception...you can’t afford my services.”

  “You have no idea what I can afford,” she said.

  He grimaced. “You already owe me three thousand dollars, and I haven’t even agreed to work for you yet.”

  She ignored the imaginary bill he was sending her way—she’d probably have to sell a kidney to come close to meeting his price—and latched onto the “yet,” and pushed herself for even more honesty. “The truth is...you officially know more about my life than anyone else. So it doesn’t matter what the cost is, and that’s all the résumé you need.”

  His brows knit together. “I don’t know a single damn thing about you.”

  Elle swallowed. “You know about Katie.”

  There was an extra heartbeat before his reply, and when he did speak, his voice had dropped timber and was gruffer, too. “We can’t have this conversation here.”

  Did that mean they could have it somewhere else? Elle thought it was an opening. Almost. Or at least not a complete shutdown. But she didn’t let the bubbling hope carry her away.

  “I have to get to Katie,” she said firmly.

  “I heard you.”

  “You might’ve heard me. But I don’t know if you understood what I meant. I need to get to Katie.”

  Something indefinable crossed his rough features. “I do understand.”

  The three words weren’t a promise to help. They weren’t even close. In fact, the statement and the tone in which he spoke it begged more questions than they offered any answers. But Elle wasn’t there to get to know Noah. She’d followed him on a strange, unpredictable path through the streets for the sole purpose of soliciting his assistance. Her singlemindedness in getting Katie back wouldn’t allow for questions about anything else.

  She lifted her chin. “Help me.”

  His expression was the very definition of stormy. And she braced for him to shut her down with a finality she wouldn’t be able to fight. But then he did something completely unexpected. He grabbed her hand, slid his fingers between hers, and a moment later, he was pulling her along the street. Striding along with her in tow like they were lovers in a hurry to get a tryst somewhere rather than two people who’d just met at a park.

  At a park where Katie was taken. And met because Katie was taken. Her heart slammed painfully against her ribcage. Oh, God. She’s really gone.

  So Elle let this man take her. Even though she knew the action should’ve made her more worried. More scared. After all, he was leading her farther away from where she’d last seen Katie. And with no explanation. But all she felt was mild relief. It just blurred the edges of the fear. The quick speed helped, too. It meant that she didn’t have time to focus on her dread.

  The streets seemed to whip by, and in a little over five minutes, Noah slowed their pace enough that Elle could take a better look at her surroundings. It surprised her to see that they weren’t in a commercial area. Even though she hadn’t consciously thought about it, she guessed that she’d been subconsciously anticipating an office building of some kind. But what lay out on the street in front of them wasn’t even close to that. And it wasn’t residential, either. What they were approaching was most definitely a seedy motel.

  Abruptly, Elle stopped. So hard, in fact, that she jerked the shaggy-haired man to a halt as well. Which was really saying something, considering his size and strength. Noah spun back, and the surprise was evident on his face, too.

  “Thought this was urgent,” he said.

  Her gaze flicked to the motel. Then to Noah. He was looking at her...expectantly. And her brain did a weird analysis. A contradictory one. First, it pointed out the big man’s intimidation factors. His size, obviously. The way the corded muscles stood out on his forearms. His ripped jeans and thick stubble and hair in need of a cut. Running into him in a dark alley would have sent most people hightailing it in the other direction. And yet...he was undeniably attractive. Strong jaw. Perfect cheekbones, and soft lips. His skin was golden brown, like he spent a lot of time outside. There was no doubt that he probably drew a fair amount of female attention.

  “Elle?” he prodded, making her start.

  She felt h
er face heat up. “When I said I’d throw myself in front of bus to save Katie, and you said I couldn’t afford you, this isn’t really what I was thinking.”

  His brows knit together for a second. Then his face cleared, and he did something even more unexpected than grabbing her hand; he burst out laughing. The sound was a booming bass-filled one. It was pleasant, too.

  “C’mon,” he said as his chuckles tapered off. “Let’s go inside. Before someone sees us together and thinks the same damn thing.”

  * * *

  If someone had asked Noah ten minutes earlier if he’d be laughing his butt off about anything in the present situation, he would’ve vehemently denied the possibility. How could there be anything funny about a missing kid and her distraught mother? Yet somehow, Elle had managed to fill him with amusement. The look on her face as she concluded that he wanted her “services” as payment had been priceless. The head-to-toe glance that had puzzled him. The pink in her cheeks. The way she bit her lip like she was really considering it.

  Noah was still grinning as he led her through the squeaky gate past the pool—devoid of water and full of leaves—and through the so-called garden—which was really just a mess of vines wrapped around someone’s old bike—and straight up to his door. He grabbed the handle and turned, and the thin panel opened easily. He never locked it. With the exception of his laptop, his gun and some necessary ID, there was nothing of value in the room. Since those three things were in a military-grade safe that he’d taken the liberty of bolting to the floor in his closet, he was never too worried about his questionable neighbors walking in uninvited.