Perilous Games (Gray Tower Book 3)

by J. M. Brister

  “I already told you,” he said a little more harshly than he had wanted.

  “I know, but you didn’t give me any details. And I thought that…” She trailed off. “Never mind. That was stupid of me to bring up.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  Mercer watched as her whole demeanor changed. She looked uncomfortable and grabbed the sheet to pull it over her breasts. He wished that he had said something else. There were a million things he could have said. But he was emotionally shut down, and he refused to open that part of his life again. Ashlen wanted something more from him, and he wished he could tell her that it was impossible for him. Too much shit had gone down in his life.

  After a few tense moments, he finally said, “I’m sorry. That was mean of me to say. It’s just a touchy subject for me, and besides, it’s not like we’re in a relationship. The less you know about me, the better.”

  Ashlen nodded, but he could see tears prick her eyes. Mercer regretted kissing her in that hotel room for what seemed like forever ago. The only thing that he was going to do was hurt her. That had never been his intention. He had no idea what his intention had been when he had started this fuck fest.

  “I understand,” she said, though he heard hurt in her voice.

  “I’m not trying to hurt you,” he said softly. “I just wanted you to know my perspective on everything.”

  She nodded but still looked hurt.

  After a few tense moments, she mumbled, “I’m going to take a shower.”

  As she got up and made her way to the bathroom, Mercer felt a tightening in his chest. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but that was exactly what he had done.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  That woman, Paul thought.

  Ashlen was tugging at his heartstrings. He had been displeased when he had found out that Cade had fucked her. The thought made his skin crawl. Yeah, Paul knew that he had screwed up their relationship first. He had owned that a long time ago. But it still made him jealous knowing that Ashlen had been with another guy.

  And Cade of all people? He was not her type: military, rough, and…scarred. Did women like scars like that? All Paul knew was that guys like Cade were dangerous. Not just in a fight but in a relationship. Did she think that he would commit to anything other than sex?

  Paul grumbled to himself as he sat at an empty desk in the Charlotte office. West had allowed him and Rodriguez to stay in North Carolina until Ashlen was secured through those Gray Tower yahoos. After that, his boss had mentioned ‘having a talk with him.’ Paul was certainly not looking forward to that.

  Rodriguez strolled by Paul’s temporary desk and waved. Paul nodded in his direction.

  “I’ve been talking to some of the Gray Tower folk,” Paul’s partner told him.

  Paul had a hard time not rolling his eyes at the mention of the mercenary group.

  “The situation with Marino is interesting. That’s for sure,” Rodriguez started. “Peter Cole has pissed off Marino by not delivering on an arms deal. Marino knows the only way to get to Cole is to go after Ashlen. I would hate to see what would happen to her if Marino got to her.”

  “Me too,” Paul said quietly.

  “Gray Tower was pretty surprised that she was brought to Charlotte,” his partner continued.

  “What’s wrong with Charlotte?” Paul asked, suddenly anxious.

  “Nothing, unless you’re on Marino’s shit-list. These Gray Tower guys were given a list of cities not to go to under any circumstances because Marino’s got way too many eyes and ears there: New York, L.A., Chicago, Miami. Charlotte was number one on the list because Marino is from here.”

  Paul felt a pit starting to grow in his stomach. No, he had not known about this piece of information. He suddenly felt guilty about bringing Ashlen here. Perhaps she had been safer with Cade at that cabin after all?

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine under FBI protection until she leaves,” Paul replied.

  “If it’s okay with you, I’m going to go over to the hotel and get her to finish the paperwork before she leaves with Gray Tower,” Rodriguez said.

  “I’ll do it,” Paul said softly.

  He just wanted one more chance to see her again.

  Rodriguez raised an eyebrow and asked, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Every time you see her, you get your ass into more trouble. Why don’t you save this one for me? I’m sure you guys can work it all out back home when this is all over.”

  Paul shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  “Fine,” he finally said. “You can go. Make sure she’s doing okay.”

  “Will do,” his partner said.

  Paul watched Rodriguez walk away. He had a sinking feeling that something was going to go terribly wrong, but he wasn’t sure what.

  Chapter 19

  Ashlen had finished showering when a knock came at the hotel room’s door. She glanced over at Mercer who was already moving quickly to answer it. When the door opened, she noticed Paul’s partner, Agent Rodriguez, standing there. She relaxed and let out a long sigh through her teeth, creating a hissing sound through her mouth.

  Mercer stood a good few inches tall over the agent and glowered.

  “Ah. Ahem,” Rodriguez said, eying Mercer up and down. “I need to talk to Miss Cole for a moment. She has a few more signatures to go through before we can let her out of the FBI’s custody. I already have Mr. Hunter’s approval, so this is the last thing before she leaves.”

  “Sure,” Mercer grumbled.

  “If I may speak with her in the hallway? Give her some privacy.”

  Ashlen watched as Mercer’s eyebrow raised.

  “She can stay here and do it,” he told the agent, his voice stern.

  “It’ll just be a moment, and I’ll keep the door open,” the agent said, glancing at Ashlen and then back at Mercer.

  He did not look pleased but nodded at the agent and said, “Fine. But stay in the doorway where I can see her.”

  Rodriguez nodded and gestured for Ashlen to step outside. She didn’t necessarily want to leave Mercer, but she was hurt from what he has said earlier, though she had no reason to be.

  Ashlen followed Rodriguez outside and noticed a clipboard and paper in his hands. She wondered why Paul hadn’t been the one to come and see her, but she quickly pushed that from her mind.

  “This will only take a few minutes,” he told her, handing her the clipboard and a pen.

  She scanned through some of it. Most of the paperwork looked easy as all the areas she needed to fill out were highlighted. She began signing, focused on the task at hand. That was why she didn’t notice the men dressed in all black coming up on her and Rodriguez.

  When a smoke grenade went off, she was stunned and began to cough. She could somewhat hear Rodriguez cursing, and there was a yell coming from the inside of the hotel room: Mercer.

  Ashlen crumpled to the ground, choking on the gas, which had now obscured her vision. Her vision went black, and she fought for consciousness. She could feel arms grabbing her, and she tried to scream as she was hauled off. However, the only thing she could do was cough and gasp for breath.

  Then, things went completely black

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Mercer bolted from his seat as soon as he saw the smoke, but it was too late. He began to choke and covered his mouth to try and breathe. Visibility was zero in the hallway, and the smoke was seeping through the doorway at a steady rate. He didn’t care, though. He had to get to Ashlen before she was taken.

  Bursting through the doorway, he held his breath as much as he could. The smoke was starting to clear, and he could see Agent Rodriguez lying on the floor unconscious, blood trickling down his face. Mercer didn’t have time to attend to the agent. He had to get to Ashlen and fast.

  The smoke had cleared a little more, and he could make out a couple of figures hauling an unconscious Ashlen down the hallway. He could still get to her in time, but he’d have to hurry. There was no way that he could use his handgun to stop the men beca
use of the fear that he could accidentally hit Ashlen, so he’d have to make a run for it.

  Mercer ran down the hallway as quickly as he could. The men kidnapping Ashlen had already gone through the doorway, so he headed toward the door. However, his knee hurt like shit and was slowing him down from his usual pace. He had to go at a limping run as he chased after the men.

  Darting through the doorway to the stairwell, he cursed at himself. He needed to be faster. The men were moving quickly—much faster than he was. Still, carrying a person down the stairs may give Mercer an advantage.

  He skipped down a couple of steps at a time until he heard a familiar but frightening sound clanking on the steps slightly below him. Mercer knew that sound all too well from his time in the military: It was the sound of a grenade hitting the floor.

  Giving a split-second glance at the grenade sitting a half a floor below him, he immediately turned and booked it back up as many flights of steps he could before it blew.

  There wasn’t much time until the explosion. The blast blew Mercer forward with incredible force. There was a blinding light and a deafening noise.

  Then, there was nothing.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Peter Cole sat nervously in a semi cab in the parking lot of a Walmart in Charlotte. He was waiting for his people to finally make the delivery. It had taken way too long. There had been a slight hiccup in the supply chain, and because of it, this whole deal had put his niece at risk. He was sure that Gray Tower would take care of her, but it was still nerve-wracking. Peter promised himself that once this deal was done, he would retire from all of this. He had built up a big enough nest egg. He would not put Ashlen at risk again.

  After waiting another half hour, the truck and trailer arrived—late, of course. Peter grumbled to himself, but he was glad that the shipment was here at last. Soon, he could put all of this behind him.

  Peter opened the door of the cab after he grabbed his handgun and tucked it into the back of his pants underneath his shirt. One could never be too careful when dealing with his line of business.

  The driver of the trailer opened the door and slowly climbed down, all the while staring down Peter. The man was older than the people Peter usually dealt with. He was tall with brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Peter thought that this guy may have been in his late thirties or early forties, though he had a solemn expression on his face that made him look like he had seen a lifetime’s worth of shit.

  When the man dropped to the ground, Peter heaved out a sigh and said, “Finally! This has been one big clusterfuck.”

  “My apologies,” the man said in a low voice. “I was not in charge at the time this deal was made. The other person was dealt with appropriately.”

  Peter shuddered, knowing what happened when someone fucked up in this line of business.

  “This will not happen again in the future,” the man continued.

  There won’t be another time, Peter told himself firmly. Not after what has happened.

  “Let me unhook the trailer, and it’s all yours,” the man said. “If you have any more problems with the Black Mark shipments, direct your issue to me.”

  The Black Mark was an organization who ran a smuggling operation through the entire southeast. Their main center of activity was based in Charlotte. Between them and Marino, the area was crawling with illicit activity.

  “And to whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?” Peter asked.

  “Angel,” the man told him.

  Peter frowned but said nothing. It was certainly an odd name given the fact that the man looked like no angel. He looked like the devil himself.

  “Come on,” Angel said. “I’m on a tight schedule.”

  Peter was about to get back into the cab when he felt his phone vibrate. Looking down, he saw a text message that made his heart stop.

  We have your niece. Make the delivery within 24 hours, or she dies.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Jack Hunter ran at full speed up a secondary set of steps on the other side of the hotel. He had heard the explosion from downstairs in the lobby where he had been patrolling. This was not good—not good at all. He feared for his friend and for the woman he had been charged with protecting.

  He had reached the floor Mercer and Ms. Cole had been housed and pulled open the door with enough force to bang it against the wall. Jack sprinted as fast as he could to the room and noted it empty. Agent Rodriguez lay on the floor, unconscious, though Jack wasn’t concerned about him. He wasn’t dead. Good enough. He was more worried about Mercer.

  There was the smell of smoke in the air, and it was still a bit hazy around the hallway. Jack turned his attention toward the other end of the hallway where billows of smoke were drifting out of the stairwell.

  Even through the foggy smoke, Jack could make out a figure lying on the floor next to the doorway. He knew immediately that it was Mercer.

  Sprinting the rest of the way, Jack knelt by his friend. Mercer was unconscious but still alive. There didn’t seem to be obvious injuries besides a few scratches along his face and neck. Whatever had caused the explosion had most likely just blown him backward and knocked him out.

  “Hey,” Jack said, gently alternating between shaking and slapping Mercer on the face. “Wake up, buddy.”

  Mercer finally opened his eyes and blinked, confused and disoriented by what had just happened.

  “What…happened?” Mercer said weakly, his voice hoarse.

  He stared off into space for a moment, but he jerked up to a sitting position without assistance.

  “Where is she?” He demanded, glancing around frantically.

  “She’s gone, brother,” Jack said solemnly. “Marino’s men took her.”

  A look of defeat crossed Mercer’s face, and he buried his head in his hands.

  “I’ve failed her then,” he whispered.

  “There was nothing that you could do,” Jack said, trying to comfort his friend. “If they planted a bomb, then there was nothing any of us could do.”

  “It was a grenade,” Mercer admitted. “The kidnapping was well-executed. They knew exactly where and when to grab her.”

  “Makes me wonder if someone is feeding Marino information,” Jack noted.

  Mercer nodded and said, “Help me get up. I need to talk to that Agent Rodriguez. His appearance was the one that started this all off. Where is he?”

  “Uh, still unconscious on the floor over there,” Jack told him, pointing down the hallway.

  At this point, a few FBI and Gray Tower agents were on the scene. A couple were running over to Jack and Mercer.

  “We’re fine,” Jack called out to them. “Check on the agent over there.”

  Helping Mercer up from the ground, Jack and his friend made their way over to where Rodriguez was lying. The agent was starting to come to.

  When they made their way over to the commotion, Rodriguez groaned, “They took her. Someone, stop them.”

  “It’s too late,” Mercer said solemnly. “She’s gone.”

  Rodriguez, who had been trying to sit, slumped back to the ground. There was a nasty wound on his head, and he kept coughing from the smoke inhalation.

  “No!” The agent yelled before finally lying completely on the ground.

  “Who knew about where Ashlen was located in your office?” Mercer growled.

  Someone had to have tipped off Marino at the FBI. The men who had kidnapped her had been too precise. They knew exactly where she was staying and when she’d be most vulnerable to attack. Heads were going to roll.

  “Me, Anderson, and a small team to stand guard,” Rodriguez replied solemnly. “No way it was one of us. It had to be from your guys.”

  Jack cringed at the thought. They’d already had two major leaks at Gray Tower over the past year and a half, so there was always the possibility. Given the situation, though, he was betting on someone blabbing at the FBI. Hadn’t he been warned that Charlotte was Marino territory?

  This mission should hav
e been simple. It hadn’t even been on Jack’s radar when it had been assigned to Mercer. Bryant had explained that it was more of a favor to an old friend than anything else. Things should have been fine. Yet, one overzealous FBI agent had wrecked the whole thing, and now, a young woman was in extreme danger.

  “This is all your fucking partner’s fault,” Mercer bit out, kneeling next to Rodriguez. “If that fucker had stayed out of our business, she’d still be here right now.”

  All Rodriguez could do was close his eyes and shake his head.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered to both men before he passed out.

  Interlude

  5 years ago

  Mercer sat on his couch, staring out the window as tiny droplets of rain beat against the pane. He had been sitting like that for a while now—sitting still, watching the world pass him by. His right leg was elevated, and his knee hurt like shit. He had just gotten back from yet another surgery, and he was done—just done.

  Sighing, he looked down at stitches around his knee and the swelling that hurt like a son of a bitch. Mercer had already been through three surgeries to try and correct the issue with his knee. The doctors had told him that he was lucky to have even kept the leg at all.

  Lucky.

  They were fucking bastards for telling him that. There was nothing lucky about what happened to Mercer. He could care less about how he looked now: scarred and ugly. He didn’t even care about his knee. What he cared about were the men he had lost on his watch. He would have rather died with them than attempted to carry on life with the guilt of surviving.

  Bitter flashbacks ran through his mind. Why couldn’t it have been him instead of his men? He would have gladly taken a bullet for any of them. Mercer had never imagined that an IED would take him out instead.

  He glanced over at the end table where his 1911 sat. It was tempting to use that handgun on himself. Hell, he had been thinking about it for months now. He just never had mustered up enough courage to pull the trigger.