Perilous Games (Gray Tower Book 3)

by J. M. Brister

  Mercer Cade.

  He could do it. Mercer was the most serious guy Miles knew. The guy was in a convoy in Afghanistan when an enemy mine had exploded, and their truck was hit. Mercer had survived with some serious scarring down the far-right side of his face and body as well as wrecking his knee.

  Although Mercer was an amazing field agent, Miles always wondered about how much pain the man was in. He tried not to show it, but on occasion, Miles would catch him limping. However, if Mercer didn’t say anything about it, Miles assumed that his employee was fine to do his job.

  Miles walked back into the reception area and flagged down Mercer who was talking with Ryan Hale—another field agent—and Jack Hunter. Mercer was a huge guy who was extremely tall and well-built, his size was mostly well-refined muscle and height.

  “Everything okay?” Mercer asked as Miles pulled him aside.

  “Overall, everything is good,” Miles replied. “But I just got a call and need to put you on another mission immediately.”

  Mercer nodded and said, “When do I ship out?”

  “I need some more details, but I’m assuming tomorrow morning. Enjoy the wedding tonight.”

  “What’s the mission?”

  Miles hesitated.

  Mercer wasn’t going to be thrilled about bodyguard duty. That was usually assigned to lower-level employees—guys who were still good but weren’t up to the level of his top agents. In this case, however, Miles was pretty sure with Peter’s issues that he needed one of his best.

  “It’s—uh—a bodyguard gig,” Miles said hesitantly.

  Mercer stared at him before finally saying, “You’ve got to be fucking shitting me.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Mercer stared at Miles Bryant in disbelief. He was one of Gray Tower’s top field agents, and Bryant wanted him to do what?

  “You’ve got to be fucking shitting me!”

  He didn’t usually cuss around his boss, but this was a special case. Bodyguard services could be quite annoying, especially with the wrong client. They were twenty-four-seven jobs and could be demoralizing. Someone of Mercer’s talents should not be on something that about a hundred other lower-level guys at Gray Tower could do.

  “Language,” Bryant said sternly.

  Mercer stiffened.

  “It’s a special set of circumstances that requires one of my top guys,” he explained. “Plus, it’s a favor to someone I’ve known for a long time. I am requesting that you do this one. It is only a temporary job, lasting just a few weeks. Understood?”

  Mercer sighed and nodded.

  “Sure. I’ll do it for you, sir. Now, what are we talking about here? Who am I guarding?”

  Miles took his phone out and looked down at the glowing screen.

  Then he said, “Her name is Ashlen Cole. She’s the niece of a college friend, Peter Cole.”

  Mercer bristled.

  The last thing he wanted to do was babysit some girl. If she was a relative of one of Bryant’s friends, then she was probably a spoiled rich brat.

  Oh, this is going to suck, Mercer thought, groaning inwardly.

  “All I know is that she’s twenty-six,” Bryant continued. “I’ll get you all of her information as soon as I can. I want you to get to her by tomorrow night and get her to a Gray Tower safehouse. I’d say the North Carolina one.”

  Twenty-six?

  Eh, shit. Even better, he thought.

  Nothing like a spoiled rich twenty-something to make this even more annoying than it was already going to be. Why was Bryant punishing him? Why couldn’t someone else deal with this shit?

  “Oh, and Mercer,” Bryant continued, “under no circumstances are you to have relations with this woman. We’ve already had two missions where my employees have shacked up. We’re not doing this again. Understood?”

  The thought hadn’t crossed Mercer’s mind, but now that he thought about it, the prospect of a hot twenty-something woman did spark his imagination a little bit. He wasn’t exactly the hottest guy—at least anymore. His scarring was a bit unnerving for some people, though that didn’t completely limit his options to fuck. There were plenty of women who loved the look.

  Still, a young woman could cause a lot of trouble, especially if she was attractive and even more so if she was aggressive in her pursuit of men. Mercer hoped that she was neither, or he’d be in a hell of a lot of trouble.

  “I’m not Slade or Hunter,” Mercer said, referring to the two Gray Tower agents who had indeed succumbed to love.

  Hell, he was at Logan and Keira’s wedding right now.

  “Good,” Miles confirmed. “Just keep that in mind. Now, enjoy the rest of the wedding. I’ll have everything to you by tomorrow morning, and then I expect you to ship out.”

  Mercer’s boss looked down at his phone.

  “You won’t have too far. She’s a bit outside of Cincinnati.”

  Nodding, Mercer left Bryant and tried to enjoy the rest of the reception. Unfortunately, he was too pissed about his new assignment to get in on the fun that everyone else was having, and his fucking knee was flaring up again.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Twenty-seven hours later, Mercer had driven up to Miss Ashlen Cole’s residence, a 50s-style brick ranch on the outskirts of Hamilton, Ohio. He had been told that she was expecting him and was also given the key-code to the garage, courtesy of Peter Cole—her uncle and all-around troublemaker.

  Ashlen was not home, even though it was almost eleven at night. Mercer was given some information that shed a bit of light on why she was out.

  Miss Cole was a blogger. Her website was called Single in Cincy, and it was about what you’d expect: hate on men, complain about singleness, bitch about life in general. Mercer already disliked her.

  She was doing a speed-dating thing for her blog, and he supposed that she wouldn’t be back until late.

  He was a bit annoyed that she was stretching this one a bit too far. She was supposed to be ready to go to the safehouse by late tonight. Yet, she wasn’t even home, and she wasn’t answering the cellphone number that he was provided.

  Yeah, she was going to be a real gem to work with. Mercer was going to have to set some ground rules when she finally got there.

  He milled around her home for a bit, noting that there had been some significant work done to it. After a while, he got annoyed and decided to pack up some of her shit himself, taking a pack of water bottles and snacks to his truck, which was parked on the street as the narrow driveway didn’t fit two cars easily.

  After spending some time packing the shit he had taken, he noticed a small car pulling into the driveway.

  That must be Miss Cole, he thought.

  Mercer finished situating the items and then began to stroll up to the house. She was already inside of it, and he used the unlocked side door to get back in. When he stepped into the main part of the house, he noted that the shower was on.

  Damn it. She was going to slow him down again.

  Was she doing this on purpose? Or was she just that oblivious to the danger that she was in?

  Instead of stomping into the bathroom where she’d be naked, he trekked through to the master bedroom to fish out some bags for her. Mercer thought he had seen a couple of bags plopped by her closet when he had made his initial rounds in the house.

  Once he had gotten those out, he waited for her to get out of the shower, irritated with how she was acting. They were going to have to have a talk when she was finished.

  Chapter 3

  Present

  Realizing that her uncle was on the other line, Ashlen wailed into the phone, “Oh my God! Uncle Pete! There’s a big scary man in my house, and he’s here with a gun. Please help me.”

  She could hear a chuckle from the other line. “Hey, Ash, I’m sorry about all of this, but you will need to do exactly what the big scary man says.”

  Ashlen’s heart almost skipped a beat. Her brain was having a hard time comprehending what her uncle had just said.


  “What?” She demanded.

  There was silence for a moment on the line before Uncle Pete cut in.

  “Look, I know it might be a bit of a shock, but the guy that’s there with you is a…friend. He’s going to make sure you’re alright for a while. I’m unfortunately having some problems right now. I tried to call you earlier multiple times, but I couldn’t get a hold of you.”

  “What?” Ashlen murmured.

  She thought back to her cellphone, which she had put on silent for the evening, so she could concentrate on the speed dating event. What her uncle had said might be plausible. Then, she realized that when her uncle said he was having problems, he really was having problems. Uncle Pete didn’t mess around.

  “Look, Ash, you are going to have to believe me when I say it: I fucked up big time. I am very scared that some of my acquaintances are going to come after you. I need you to follow what that man in your room says—like right now.

  “His name is Mercer Cade, and he’s going to take care of you for a while. He works for a private military company called Gray Tower, and they are the best. I’ve hired him to be your bodyguard for a little bit until things smooth over.”

  Ashlen’s eyes widened as she exclaimed, “You’ve got to be kidding me! What did you do this time?”

  “Look, I don’t want to get into it right now. Just do what Mr. Cade says. I think he is moving you to a more secure location. You can still do your blog from there. It’ll be fine. However, I do need you to know that you are in a lot of danger right now. I’m telling you, do exactly what the man says.”

  “Uncle Pete…” She said, trailing off.

  What exactly was she supposed to say? Her uncle’s dealings had never affected her before. This was new territory.

  “Hey, I love you, Ash,” her uncle continued. “I have to go now. I’ll try to get a hold of you soon, but don’t count on it.”

  The line disconnected.

  She grumbled to herself. However, if her uncle told her to do something, it was always for a very good reason. At least for the moment, she had stopped trembling and had begun to breathe a little easier. She was still scared out of her mind, but she felt a little better knowing that she was not in any immediate danger.

  Ashlen looked up at “Mercer,” wondering what she was supposed to be doing next. He stared at her for a moment, studying her. She watched as his eyes slowly moved down her body before coming back to her face. There was an odd look on his face. Perhaps amusement, maybe?

  Crap.

  She was still dressed indecently.

  Well, I hope you enjoy the show, bud, she thought sarcastically. Because that’s all you’re going to get.

  He stalked over to where she was, which made her sink against the bed even further.

  Ashlen had noticed that he was a very tall man, but his proximity to her made her realize how tall he was. He must have been at least six foot three inches, maybe six-four. His frame was huge as well, but his body looked to be made of muscle, not fat. With his build and the scarring running across the far side of his face, he looked dangerous. If Uncle Pete had hired this guy to play bodyguard with her for a while, it looked like he had gotten his money’s worth.

  She breathed in slowly as he peered down at her. She could smell a familiar scent of leather and spice, the same scent she had smelled earlier before she had showered. It must have been him the whole time.

  It was a sexy scent, and she may have even liked it if she hadn’t been so pissed at him for being here and scaring the crap out of her.

  As he peered down at her, she tried not to stare at the side of his face with the scars. She certainly didn’t want to get this guy angry. Then, before she could do or say anything, he snatched the phone right out of her hand.

  “Thanks,” he said. “Now, if you’re done playing around, it’s time to get going.”

  She folded her arms across her chest, trying to show her displeasure. Oh boy, this man was going to be an absolute peach to work with.

  “Where are we going?” She asked.

  “A safe house.”

  He moved away from her, walking to her closet. He pointed at a few bags that lined the floor. Apparently, he had been fishing through her room because those had definitely been stored in her closet. She suddenly felt violated—more that she already had been.

  “You went through my stuff?” She asked, trying to show as much irritation in her voice as possible.

  “You were screwing around, so I expedited the process. You have five minutes to get dressed and pack,” he said, a smirk crossing his face. He stood up and began walking back to the door. “Everything that you take should fit in those bags.”

  “But, but…” She began to protest.

  Everything?

  She needed a bag packed just for her shoes alone.

  “Four minutes, fifty seconds,” he reminded her and stalked out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

  Ashlen cursed silently. What an asshole!

  As quickly as she could, she found a bra from one of her dressers, peeled off her gray tank top, and put on the bra.

  There.

  At least this Mercer guy wouldn’t be seeing her high-beams now. She put the tank-top back on and found a pair of jeans to slip on. Underwear, bras, socks, a few shirts of varying sleeve length flew into the bags as well as jeans, jeggings, shorts, and sweats.

  There was only a little more room left in the over-stuffed bags, so she decided to finish it off with a few toiletries instead of shoes. She decided on a pair of black leather running shoes since they pretty much went with everything and were ridiculously comfortable.

  She had no idea how long she was going to be away so the more clothes, the better.

  Heading to the bedroom door, Ashlen opened it cautiously. To her surprise, Mercer was nowhere to be seen. She moved to the bathroom and dumped a toothbrush, toothpaste, face wash, deodorant, and a razor into a bag. Lastly, she found a safe spot to put her supply of birth control packs, barely getting the zipper to one of the bags shut before Mercer popped his head into the room.

  Ashlen startled; she was going to have a hard time getting used to the hard-edged look that the scars on his face gave him.

  Oddly enough, they didn’t necessarily make him look ugly. He was very handsome, despite the one side of his face. It was hard to see his scarring unless he was facing completely forward. However, she refused to think that she could be attracted to someone like him; he looked like he could kill a lot of people very quickly. He probably had.

  What was this Gray Tower company, anyhow? He didn’t look like the usual bodyguard.

  “Time to go,” he told her in that ultra-masculine voice of his.

  Mercer eyed the cluster of bags, which were now over-stuffed, and raised an eyebrow. He thankfully chose not to comment.

  But seriously, she did need stuff, right?

  Ashlen followed him out of the bathroom, carrying all her luggage. She stopped by the door of her office to pick up her laptop bag before trying to catch back up to Mercer. His stride was so quick that she almost had to trot to keep up with him.

  When they got to the front door, she noticed him holding out a familiar manila envelope. She snatched it out of his hands.

  “Hey…” Ashlen trailed off as she opened it and recognized the contents.

  It was the envelope that she kept her passport and spare cash in. Only it was supposed to be locked in her safe that she kept under her bed.

  “You broke into my safe?” Her fear of this man was starting to subside, and it was now being replaced with annoyance.

  He shrugged and said, “Actually, I used the key. Tisk-tisk on leaving your safe keys in your nightstand drawer.”

  Busted.

  “You’ll need your wallet too,” he added, pointing to her purse.

  She begrudgingly snatched her purse off the entryway table. Going through a woman’s purse was the one place he wouldn’t break into, she realized

  Ashlen was ju
st about to sling the purse over her empty shoulder when he told her, “Just the wallet and no laptop.”

  Are you kidding me? She thought.

  Jamming her hand in her purse, she fished around for her wallet until she found it. Pulling out the red-leather object, she waved it back and forth in the air, wordlessly asking if he was satisfied. Then, she reluctantly dropped the laptop bag to the floor. Of course, he did not look amused. He snatched the wallet out of her hand—this was now the second time he had grabbed something from her—and began pulling out her bank cards and miscellaneous store reward cards.

  “What are you doing?” She demanded angrily.

  “You can’t use these; they’re too easily traced. Same thing with your laptop,” he explained.

  “Wait. Who exactly is my uncle mixed up with?”

  “That’s a need to know basis, and you don’t need to know.”

  She rolled her eyes as much as possible.

  Ashlen thought for a moment and then realized that he was right. If the wrong people were after her uncle and wanted to get to her as well, the best way to alert them to where you were was to use a credit card or post blog articles. It was like screaming at the top of your lungs, “Hey, I’m in this location!”

  After it looked like he was satisfied that there was nothing else in Ashlen’s wallet that might put them in trouble, he motioned for her to leave. The chilly April air hit her face as she stepped outside and followed him. There was a black Chevy Tahoe now parked in her driveway. She realized that he must have moved the SUV when she was packing.

  As she was locking up her house, she felt a nervous flutter in the pit of her stomach. She was more than a little scared to be fleeing her house with a tall, dark stranger who happened to be packing heat.

  Ashlen had barely gotten to the driveway when she heard tires squealing from a distance. Mercer’s body visibly tensed.

  “Get in the SUV,” he growled lowly.

  Fear began working its way through her to the pit of her stomach. She high-tailed it to the front passenger seat and slammed the door behind her. Mercer popped into the driver’s seat, his handgun now out of its holster. He had barely gotten to the seat when two black vans pulled up to the edge of Ashlen’s driveway, blocking them in.