Her Assassin For Hire (Stealth Series Book 3)

by Danica Winters

  Closing the door to the barren library, she wondered if Chad was even in the apartment. What if the guy had lied to get Eli alone so he could have a fighting chance instead of standing two against one? She glanced down toward the living room, but it was quiet. Hopefully Eli had everything under control.

  At the end of the hall, she came to another door. She raised her gun, anticipating this room was empty like those before it. As she clicked open the door, she found herself in a man’s bedroom. There was a pair of cowboy boots beside the bed and a ripped and bloodied flannel was thrown in a heap in the corner of the room. It looked like something Chad would wear.

  As she stepped into the room to get a better look at the shirt, the door slipped shut behind her. As she turned, there was the sound of someone rushing toward her.

  Pain erupted from her head as an object connected with the side of her face. The blow reverberated through her bones, making it sound like she had been hit by something metal. She turned slightly, but as she tried to catch sight of who or what had struck her, the world turned into a swirling mass of colors.

  She tried to take control of herself and override the pain that threatened to overwhelm her. Pain is just a signal from the body that there is something wrong, she tried to tell herself. But the thought was as sluggish and weaving as the world around her.

  Push past it. She told herself. Focus.

  As she tried to center herself, another blow struck her from behind, making the same metallic, reverberating sound.

  The swirling mass of white walls and gray bedding mixed with bright sunshine and dark shadows, becoming a vortex.

  She didn’t know how she found herself on the floor, but she felt the cool tiles pressed against her throbbing cheek.

  Blinking, the vortex of color turned into a black hole, sucking her into its gaping maw. No matter how hard she tried to focus on the floor, she felt herself slipping deeper and deeper into the abyss. She sucked in a breath, fearing that this was it. Death had found her.

  Then there was nothing.

  Chapter Eighteen

  What was taking Zoey so long?

  Eli pulled a set of zip ties from his pack and, pressing the man’s hands and feet together, hog-tied him. “What’s your name?” he asked.

  The man said nothing.

  “Don’t make me have to repeat myself.” Eli pulled the zip ties tight enough that they bit into the man’s wrists to act as a warning.

  “You are the one standing in my living room. Don’t you think I should be asking the questions?” the man said, pulling against the restraints on his wrists in a feeble attempt to free himself.

  “You know,” Eli said, moving to the couch and sitting, “I have yet to find myself in your position—hog-tied and forced into submission—but I think if I were you, the last thing I would be doing is acting like a smartass.”

  “If I get my hands on you, you will get your chance to test your theory,” the man said, rolling to his side to face him.

  “I highly doubt that,” Eli said, picking up the remote and changing the channel off the dating show. He flipped to the news.

  The last thing he needed right now was to learn more about some woman’s dating preferences when he had more than enough relationship drama of his own to worry about. He had never really understood the allure of watching dating shows—they seemed fake and manipulated. But when he and Zoey had been together, he had sat through more than his fair share of them in order to make her happy.

  That sacrifice, in hindsight, seemed far more real than anything a television show could come up with. For him, love was the little things...not some grand gesture.

  There was the cacophony of firearms as the reporter spoke of an ongoing conflict somewhere else on the globe. Eli found that the sound was far more appealing than listening to the news. The sounds of gunfire definitely made him feel less on edge.

  The guy at his feet sighed, like being on the floor was merely an annoyance instead of the life-threatening proposition Eli had intended. “Can I get you something to drink? How about a Coke?” Eli said sarcastically, motioning to the can on the table.

  His inflection must’ve been lost on the man.

  “Actually, that sounds good.” The man perked up.

  “Yeah, right. You can want in one hand...” Eli snarled. “In case you forgot, I’m the one sitting here with the gun. Try giving me the information I need and maybe we can get out of here. Then you can go back to watching whatever that was.”

  The man prickled, but Eli could see that he was trying to remain calm, though he clearly wanted to come up off the floor and deck him. “What exactly are you here for?” the man asked.

  Eli wasn’t sure whether or not he should say anything to the man about their true reason for being here. By now, he knew they were looking for Chad—they had said as much. But if the man didn’t know about the contract out on Chad, Eli wasn’t about to tell him about it.

  “How did you get brought into all of this?” Eli asked. He was the one asking the questions.

  The man shifted slightly on the floor, trying to find a comfortable position while they danced around one another. “I’m just here to do a job.” The man paused. “You are Eli Wayne, right?”

  Eli hated that the man knew who he was, and he had no idea who he was dealing with.

  The man’s beanie was coming off, revealing a head of red hair, the ruddy color bordering on strawberry blond. The dude looked nothing like he had any Spanish ancestry. It didn’t mean he wasn’t from Spain, but that and his slight Spanish accent made Eli wonder if he’d come from somewhere else—maybe even Algeria.

  “I’m glad my reputation precedes me,” Eli said, trying to sound far more confident than he was feeling.

  He reminded himself that this man was his prisoner, not the other way around. The dude was trying to play head games with him. He couldn’t allow himself to get sucked into his nonsense.

  “With a reputation like yours, it’s hard not to know about it,” his hostage said.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  So much for not pulled into his head games.

  “That woman you came in with—I heard you got her pregnant...”

  Eli’s hands clenched and the remote in his hand cracked under the pressure. “Unless you don’t want to make it out of here alive, I recommend you be real careful how you talk about her.”

  The man snorted with derision. “I heard about how she kicked you to the curb.”

  Who in the hell was this guy who seem to know so much about them?

  Eli stood up and threw the remote on the couch. He couldn’t sit here and let this man get under his skin. They needed to get Chad and get the hell out of here.

  Glancing over at the man, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere, Eli walked out into the hallway. Shaye was still passed out, her body tucked into the corner. They were going to need to do something about her if they stayed much longer. As he looked at her, she moved slightly as though she was starting to come around.

  At the far end of the hall there was a door open, leading into a bedroom. The place was quiet and a wave of panic overtook him. Where was Zoey? She had said she was just going to get Chad. It’d been stupid of him to let her go by herself. He should’ve hog-tied that bastard sooner and come with her to find her brother. But as he chastised himself, he thought of the look Zoey had given him, that “I don’t need a man to keep me safe” expression.

  She was strong, but that didn’t mean she didn’t need help. He tried to respect her boundaries and her desires, but no matter what she thought, everyone needed help sometimes.

  He passed two closed doors as he made his way down the hall. Entering the bedroom, nothing appeared out of place. Where had she gone? He was tempted to call for her, but he stopped himself.

  He moved to step back out into the hall when there wa
s a creak in the floorboard behind him. He turned as the bedroom’s closet door swung open and a man stepped out. Eli reached for his gun, but as he moved, the man pointed a yellow Taser at his chest. Eli turned to run, hoping that he could get outside of the shooting distance of the Taser before the man had a chance to pull the trigger.

  It was no use.

  There was the pop of the gun, the spray of confetti, and the sharp pinch of the barbs of the Taser as they bore into the skin of his ass. It felt as if he had accidentally sat on a 110-volt line. Debilitating pain coursed through him, dropping him to his knees.

  Click. Click. Click. The electric current flowed through him with each sound.

  A strange cry that filled the air, an odd mix between mewing and a screech, the noise like a hurt animal.

  Click. Click. Click.

  With the second round of clicks, Eli realized the sound was actually coming from him.

  As his crying stopped, he tried to rise to his knees and get away, but found himself completely incapacitated. Then there was another round of that terrifying noise.

  He had forgotten how bad this hurt. He had gone through a round of training in which they had been forced to take a hit from a Taser, then receive a round of OC spray—aka pepper spray—and then complete an obstacle course. The OC spray was the worst. Once this Taser was done pulsing, it would be over. The effects of OC spray could last for hours.

  Click. Click. Click.

  He could feel his heart fluttering as the electric current pulsed through every muscle in his body.

  Five seconds. It would last only five seconds.

  How long had he been on the ground? He prayed for this to be over. It felt like it had been going on for hours.

  Had his attacker struck him with another set of barbs?

  Maybe this was it. This would be how he went out. Attacked by a faceless enemy while trying to help the love of his life.

  He collapsed as the pulse of electricity stopped coursing through his system.

  He sucked in a breath, finally able to control his breathing again.

  His body was exhausted, and as he lay there on the floor and tried to regain control of his faculties, half wondering if he’d peed himself, he noticed a set of feet across the floor. From where he lay, he could see only the soles and the sides of the brown leather shoes, but he recognized them as Zoey’s.

  Had she been shot with a Taser, too? Was she still alive?

  He should have never let her go through the rest of the apartment alone. Why had he been so freaking stupid? Why didn’t he listen to that little voice in his head that had told him she needed him? Why?

  He choked on his breath, coughing and sputtering as his body flamed back to life. He had to get up. He had to get to her. Though he may have made a mistake, he had a chance now to make it right. To get her out of here. To keep her alive.

  “Zoey,” he called, his voice hoarse and raspy like he had taken the Taser barbs straight to the throat.

  He moved to stand up, but as he struggled, there was the sound of footfalls from behind. Turning to look, he saw the quick brown flash of a man’s boot as it connected with his head near the temple. There was the crunch of steel on bone and he bit his tongue, tasting the copper-rich stickiness as his body recoiled from the impact.

  As bad as the Taser had been, he wished it had been the current that struck him rather than the kick. He collapsed, reality bleeding away.

  Chapter Nineteen

  They had walked straight into the snare. How had she not seen this coming? Getting in here had almost been too easy. She had been blinded by the hope of her brother leaving her secret messages and hints as to where to find him alive. But it could have been someone using him to get her to this point. Someone else must have known she would be searching for Chad and she would do anything to get to him.

  Now, they were probably using her and Eli as bait. Hopefully they intended on keeping them alive. Bayural and his men were likely behind this. Just like them, he must’ve heard about the contract out on Chad’s head. Using that knowledge, he must have set up this elaborate ruse, hoping it would flush them out of hiding.

  At least she had told her brothers and their fiancées to stay away so the Gray Wolves wouldn’t get the chance to kill them all in one fell swoop.

  Zoey looked across the room at the bloodied and battered Eli. From where she lay on the floor, pretending to be passed out, she could make out the subtle rise and fall of Eli’s chest. The man in the brown boots kicked him again. She wanted to jump up and pummel the man for hurting Eli, but knew it was no use. In the state that she was in, it would have been irrational to make a move.

  Though she could kick some ass when necessary, with Eli out of the game she wouldn’t stand a chance of making it out of here. Even if she did manage to somehow take down the man who had just taken both her and Eli out, there was no way she would leave Eli behind. For all she knew, their enemies could be hiding out in the apartment. The man turned on the heel of his boot, and as he moved Zoey shut her eyes.

  Playing possum was her only defense. Even with that, the man may well choose to come over here and continue beating her. If he did, she would have to fight. She’d have to get up. She might even have to kill the man. Summoning what strength she had left, she vowed to do whatever she had to do to stay alive.

  The man said something in Spanish she couldn’t understand, but it sounded like expletives.

  Good. At least he was as pissed off as she was. She would have hated it if taking them down had been easy on the man.

  She wished she had put up more of a fight, but even now, as she forced her eyes to stay closed, there was a throbbing in her head. With each throb, a burst of light filled her darkened vision. Boom. Boom. Boom.

  The sound reminded her of the clicks she had awoken to.

  The sound of the Taser and Eli’s cry was something she was never going to forget. Though without it, she wasn’t sure whether or not she would have regained consciousness.

  The man’s footsteps moved toward the door and then it slammed shut. There was a click of a lock.

  His footfalls cascaded down the hall as the man yelled something.

  With the sounds of his voice growing more distant, Zoey was tempted to open her eyes and go check on Eli. Before she did, she held her breath and listened for anyone else in the room. She had only seen the one man who had taken her down—the bastard in the boots—but that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone else.

  The only sound she heard was the slow, methodical breathing of Eli.

  Thank all that was good he was alive.

  She would have to try her damnedest to keep it that way.

  Zoey peeked out from beneath her eyelashes. Eli wasn’t moving, but there was a rigidity in his body that made her wonder if he was faking unconsciousness.

  “Eli?” she whispered. “You okay?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She must have seen something that wasn’t truly there. She scooted her body across the floor and as she moved, the thundering in her head amplified. In all likelihood she had a concussion, but there was nothing she could do about it now. All she could focus on was the here and now, and getting them both to safety.

  She leaned over Eli. He smelled of sweat and pain. Running her fingers through his hair, she tried to comfort him and draw him back to the present. “Eli, come back to me. Baby, I need you. Please,” she cooed, but as she spoke, her voice cracked with emotion.

  She swallowed back the feelings that betrayed her. She needed unwavering strength.

  Eli’s eyelids fluttered and a cute half grin peppered his face. “I need you, too.”

  She leaned in and kissed Eli’s soft lips. As they fell into one another, a tear slipped down her cheek.

  He was okay. They were together.

  They could get out of this place alive.
r />   She hoped.

  Reaching up, Eli cupped her face and wiped away the tear on her cheek with his thumb. “You don’t need to worry. I’ve got you, honey. I’ve always got you.” He sat up and wrapped his arms around her.

  In that moment, blanketed in his warm touch, she felt comfort. Their lives were in danger, and the world threatened to come crashing down on them, but she had fallen into the safety and security of the only man she had ever truly loved.

  Though many things had turned her heart cold in the past, sitting here in his arms her heart was reawakened. They may never make it out of this room, but she finally truly had come back to her center—and to her home—in his arms.

  If she lived or died, at least in this one moment she was nearly complete.

  At the same time, though, there was no question of whether she loved him. She couldn’t tell him—not now and probably not ever. To tell him how she felt was to put him in even further danger. If she opened herself up to him and then something happened to her, it would only hold him back. If he was the only one to make it out of this room alive, she wanted him to move into the future with an open heart...a heart that was free to find love and a life that brought him joy—even if that life wasn’t with her.

  She took a breath, absorbing everything she could about him, from the sound of his heart, to the heat of his touch, to the subtle scent of his cologne mixed with sweat. If this was the last time she found herself in his arms, she had to remember it all.

  Dusk had started to settle on the world outside their barred window. Soon, night would be upon them and with that, a sense of foreboding.

  Eli moved to stand, his feet unsteady beneath him. He extended his hand to help her to her feet. Taking his proffered hand, she stood. The throbbing in her head had subsided with each second she’d stayed in his arms.

  “You check the window.” He motioned toward it as he stepped toward the door.

  He pressed his ear against the wood, listening for any sign that they were being monitored. Then, seeming confident that they were safe, he twisted the door handle. It made a chunk sound as if it were locked from the outside.