The perfect place to hide out.
King slid his phone from his pocket and pulled up a pic of Laura Dawson. She stood in a crowd of inner-city kids, grinning broadly for the camera. Her record was short and simple. College. Social worker. Clean history—minus her brother. She’d be an easy enough target to track and as Dawson’s only living relative—his only connection to the normal world. A connection King had absolutely no issue in exploiting.
The recon mission Diggs tried to pull today would have probably ended with questioning Laura and leaving. King had a different plan. The best way to lure out the beast would be to set the bait. If he took Laura back to the mansion, Dawson would have to come out of hiding.
He’d already resigned himself to be the black sheep of the team, knew he would have to deal with blowback from his team leader, Reaper, after the fact was done, but that was something he could live with. And if Reaper kicked King off Team Mayhem because of it, so be it.
He was better off operating alone, anyway.
Diggs turned a corner, disappearing from his line of sight. King casually got out of the truck, his Beretta safely hidden at his back, another tucked in his boot beneath his pants, his blade at his hip beneath his shirt. He’d even slid a tiny twenty-two into the cargo pocket on his pants. He doubted Dawson would actually show up here, but he wasn’t stupid. He might be thirsting for revenge, but it wouldn’t cloud his judgment. Dawson had moved with a speed and efficiency well above anything ever considered normal. And while King had gained massive amounts of strength and speed enhancements from the serum, he wasn’t as fast as Dawson. That was a lesson hard learned.
Tucking his hands into his pockets, he attempted to walk down the sidewalk like he belonged there, but from the stares he was getting from the locals and the kids, he might as well have been Satan walking up to heaven’s gate. He knew they were staring at his eye patch, which had started to itch. He resisted the urge and kept on walking. He hadn’t been out in the public much since his injury; as a matter of fact he hadn’t left the compound at all. After about a week’s worth of sympathetic looks from his team, they’d grown accustomed to his eye patch. They’d stopped averting their gazes when he walked into the room, especially after he threatened to kick all their asses if they didn’t stop looking at him like he was some disabled weakling.
Yet here he could feel the eyes on his back and hear the whispers following in his footsteps. His shirt felt tight, the street seemed claustrophobic, and he couldn’t wait to get the hell out of this place and away from all the unwelcome attention.
He caught one kid’s particularly loud whisper to a buddy, questioning whether he was a pirate. The dig should have been funny, and King shouldn’t have cared, just like he shouldn’t have looked back over his shoulder to glare at the offender.
Suddenly, a soft form plowed into him, bounced off his chest, and out of reflex, King’s arm shot out, grabbing the petite woman before she hit the sidewalk.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I totally wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?” A pair of inquisitive clear green eyes gazed at him underneath a mop of thick, golden red curls that flew about her shoulders in wild disarray. She was breathtaking and King stood there in stunned silence, staring down at Laura Dawson.
“Me?”
She smiled, her full mouth stretching wide, and it was then he noticed the smattering of freckles across her nose. “I ran right into you. I got distracted by that dress in the Turquoise Turtle. Are you okay?”
Giving himself a mental shake, King nodded absentmindedly. She was asking if he was okay? He, who outweighed her by probably 150 pounds and was at least a foot taller. The idea that she could hurt him was laughable. And yet there was genuine concern on her face. For a reason he couldn’t even begin to fathom, he needed to put her at ease. “I’m fine.”
A twinkle lit in her eyes and he stared, fascinated at the mischievous light. “I guess I can let go of you now then.”
King glanced at his hands, still gripping her arms. He released her, but not before he took note of how soft her skin had been. Jesus, stop noticing her skin. She’s the sister of the man who blinded you. “Sorry.”
A tinkle of laughter spilled from her lips. “New to town?”
He nodded. Behind him, he caught the loud whispers of a couple of kids. “See him? You see that eye patch?”
His friend replied in a similar high-pitched voice indicating a preteen youth. “Do you think he’s a pirate? Or maybe he escaped from prison!” The boys’ whispers rose above normal pitch on the last word.
This time, a distinctive girl’s voice chimed in. “It’s so gross. Stop staring, he’s going to notice and come over here.”
King managed to mask a flinch and tried to ignore them.
The redhead, however, had no such qualms. Her eyes lit with anger. King watched in fascination as a deep blush stole to her cheeks. She leaned sideways, planted a fisted hand on her curvy hip and said, “Tyler, John, and Sarah, your mothers taught you better manners than that. And I’m going to make sure I tell them everything you said, so they’ll know how rude you just were to a complete stranger. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”
King glanced over her shoulder to see the three children, all about the age of twelve, pale considerably. The tallest boy, who hadn’t grown into his long neck yet, gulped. “Sorry, Ms. Laura.”
“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to…” Her words trailed off and she glanced up at him, a questioning look on her face.
“King.” Why had he given her his name? King drew in a deep breath, feeling like he’d just felt the first fresh breeze of spring in years.
She turned her attention back to the three youths. “Apologize to Mr. King right now.”
Laura nodded for him to turn around and he followed her silent instructions like a puppy, just as awkwardly facing the kids as they faced him. Their gazes traveled from his knees all the way up to his face, forcing the three to tilt their heads back at a sharp angle. Three pairs of wide, frightened eyes stared at him. It was the tall boy who spoke again, the other two pulling up flank behind him. “Sorry, mister.”
Feeling Laura’s gaze on him, King gave them a sharp, single nod in acknowledgment. The trio spun on their heels and took off running down the sidewalk. Turning to face Laura again, King caught his reflection in the window. He didn’t spend much time looking at himself anymore. Just long enough to trim his beard when it got too shaggy and even then he never really looked at himself. With the thick black beard, long black hair, and eye patch, he did look like a pirate.
Laura cleared her throat, drawing his attention from his hideous reflection down to her much sweeter face. He half expected pity, just like he’d gotten from his team right after the accident, but that’s not what he saw. What he saw was compassion and amusement, a combination that didn’t quite match and he found himself extremely curious as to what was going on in her mind.
“What?”
Her lips tilted up at the corners, reminding him of the Cheshire cat. “You do kind of look like a pirate with that eye patch. A hot pirate.”
He felt his face muscles pull and glanced up again at his reflection to assess the strange sensation. He was smiling. He hadn’t felt the urge to smile since before… King quickly shut the memory away, focused his attention on Laura, and held onto this new fleeting feeling of lightness. “Did you just call me a hot pirate?”
Her cheeks stained an even darker shade of red, but she held his gaze. The girl had grit.
“I did.”
King felt his own smile widen. “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before.”
He let his gaze drift down her body, fully appreciating her narrow waist and curvy hips. “If I was a pirate, I’d definitely kidnap you and haul you aboard my ship.”
This had to be the most ludicrous conversation he’d ever had, but he’d be damned if he wanted to stop. She was fascinating, every myriad of emotion plainly painted on her open face, not one hint
of a lie lurking anywhere in her depths.
“I don’t think you’d have to kidnap me.” Her words came out at barely a whisper. She gasped and slid a hand over her mouth, her eyes once more going wide.
Her unthinking response drew a chuckle from him. The laughter was awkward and kind of rough.
“Well in that case, I parked my ship around the corner. Want to see it?”
Her embarrassment died instantly, her cheeks scrunching up once more in a smile. “I don’t know about that, my brother told me to never get onto a stranger’s ship.”
Chapter 3
The reminder of Dawson smashed him back to reality. He wasn’t here to flirt—he was here to work. Laura had provided him the perfect opportunity to question her. “My ship’s out of service, how about yours?”
She gave him a long assessing look and then shrugged. “My ship’s parked right there.” She gestured to the brick house right across the street. “We can have a cup of coffee on the porch if you’re up for it?”
She didn’t invite him inside. Smart. “I could do with some caffeine.”
He gestured for her to lead the way, noticing more than he should how gracefully she moved, before scanning the street for any sign of Dawson. What he saw instead was Diggs frozen at the corner, glaring at him. King returned his look with a blank stare and silently followed the sister. Diggs wouldn’t move in now, but he’d be watching his every move.
Sneaking Laura silently back to the mansion just got a little harder.
She walked up the brick steps, turning at her front door. “You can sit here,” she gestured to the tiny wrought iron chairs flanking an equally tiny table. “I’ll get the coffee going.”
He leaned against the porch post. “I’ll stand, if that’s okay. Not sure that chair is meant for someone my size.”
Hell, it was about to crumple from him simply looking at it.
Her nose crinkled the same way it had earlier, but this time King was determined not to notice.
“Thanks for thinking of my furniture. I’ll be back in just a minute.” She disappeared inside the door, and King watched her through the window as she crossed and disappeared into her kitchen.
“I should have figured you would tail me here.” Diggs had been silent on his approach.
King shrugged. “Couldn’t let you have all the fun.”
Diggs gave him a long look, but he stayed at the bottom of the stairs, feet planted on the sidewalk. “She doesn’t know. I have been watching her for a couple of weeks now.”
King shrugged again. “Maybe, maybe not.”
“You don’t need to involve any more innocents in this.”
“Are you worried I will hurt the girl?” King asked quietly. That was not an insult he was willing to let slide by.
Two coffee cups clinked down on the counter in the kitchen and both he and Diggs turned their gazes to the open window. A normal person would not have been able to hear the soft sound, but, with their enhanced hearing, they could detect things much farther away.
Diggs shoved his hands into his pockets, eyeing him quietly. “Honestly, brother, I don’t know anymore. You think too much about revenge.”
No, he didn’t think too much about it—it consumed his every waking and sleeping moment. “Just because I’m not blind to what the man has become does not mean I would do something foolish.”
The coffeepot bubbled inside the kitchen and then another female voice, this one unfamiliar, filtered through the walls. “You weren’t gone very long, Ms. Laura. Do you need me to stay and help?”
“I’m fine, Brittany, and I left your cash on the table by the front door. Thanks for helping.” Footsteps followed and King could hear the two women behind the front door. And then Laura spoke again, “Oh, a friend of mine is on the front porch.”
“Friend?”
Laura cleared her throat. “Yeah, he is staying for a cup of coffee, just didn’t want him to startle you on the way out.”
More footsteps, and from the corner of his eyes, King noticed a teenage girl poking her blonde head around the curtain. And just as quickly she disappeared from sight. The girl dropped her voice to a loud whisper. “That is the biggest man I have ever seen.”
“Yes, he is tall.”
“And that eye patch…”
He could practically sense Laura bristling. “Brittany, I really would appreciate it if you did not say anything about his eye patch. I think he is rather sensitive about it and I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
Diggs muffled a chuckle with a cough from the sidewalk and King shot him a warning glare. In response Diggs arched a questioning eyebrow, laughter lighting up his gaze. As if he could not resist, he loudly whispered, “She thinks you have feelings.”
Brittany’s hushed voice drew his attention back to the front door. “I think it’s hot. He looks like a pirate.”
Diggs laughed out loud behind him.
“It is time for you to go, Brittany. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, same time.” The door handle tilted down and King casually leaned against the front porch beam once more, staring blandly out at the street as if he had not heard every single word they’d said. Diggs gave him a wink and shuffled on down the sidewalk, made his way across the street and perched on a bench, watching.
Brittany, obviously not listening to anything Laura said, stared at him unabashedly, bright pink flesh eating up her cheeks. “Hi, I’m Brittany. Laura said you two were friends.”
King nodded, “Yep.”
“I was beginning to wonder if Ms. Laura had any friends.” Brittany held up air quotes when she said the word friends.
“Brittany!” The doorway framed Laura who was currently giving Brittany a death stare.
King cast her a questioning look but held silent.
Brittany grinned and gave him a once over only a teenager could pull off and said, “Very nice to meet you. I hope to see you around again.”
Laura put her hand over her eyes and shook her head. “Sorry about that.”
Seeing the heat riding up her cheeks, King decided to have some mercy and chuckled. “Curious girl. How’s the coffee going?”
“Just a couple more minutes, I’ll be right back.” Laura shut the door and fled inside, obviously glad for the excuse to get away from him for a moment.
Once he heard her moving about the kitchen again King rolled his neck and scanned his surroundings for any sign of Dawson. He locked eyes with Diggs across the road, ignored his teammate’s silent threat and gave him his back. The conversation he intended to have with Laura Dawson was not going to occur on the front porch out in the public where Diggs could easily interrupt.
It was going to occur inside.
Chapter 4
Without making a sound, King entered the living room through the unlocked door, silently closing it behind him. Completely unaware, Laura continued to putter around the kitchen. A narrow, steep stairway lay about 5 feet away. A small, tastefully decorated living room spread out to the left, and beyond that a partially concealed dining room and kitchen. King crossed the living room, glanced around the corner and froze. There, tucked up against the wall, was a tiny table where an equally tiny girl sat, her back to him, bent over her coloring.
Shit.
How in the hell had he missed a kid? Laura Dawson’s history had stated nothing about children. And if there was a child—there was more than likely a man. With both inhabitants unaware that he’d entered, King zeroed in on every photograph lining the walls, looking for the man in question. But every picture was a painting, nothing personal. Nothing helpful.
His entire plan changed in an instant.
He needed to get out, before she knew he was inside. He had to approach the situation more slowly and cautiously than he’d intended. But before he could turn around and make a move, Laura appeared in the door, two coffee cups in hand, her smile shifting instantly into shock and then fear. He’d crossed the boundary of her front door and invaded her personal space without permission.
There was no way he could make this look good.
King raised his hands in mock surrender, attempting to hunch his six-foot-three frame down to appear less intimidating. “I don’t mean to alarm you.”
“What are you doing in my house?”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
Her exotic green eyes darted to the right, and King trailed her gaze. This young silent girl’s back was still turned to them, as she quietly colored at the child-sized table against the wall. “We can talk outside.”
“I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just need to ask you a couple of questions.”
She put the coffee cups on the table and pointed to the door, clearly worried. “We can talk outside.”
She thought he was a serial killer or something, he could see it plain as day on her face. And why wouldn’t she? He’d invaded her home, uninvited. For all she knew he could be Jack the Ripper.
“Listen, Laura. I’m not who you think I am—” he began.
“Clearly,” she returned and then covered her mouth as if the words had slipped out unintentionally.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I am looking for your brother. He and I are on the teams together.”
There was a brief flare of surprise in her eyes that was just as quickly shuttered. Laura licked her lips, shuffling back a step. “My brother’s dead. If you are on his team you would know that.”
“Laura, I am not here to harm you or your daughter. I worked with John for years. I thought he was dead too.” King slowly lowered his hands to his side, careful to keep them away from his body in the least-threatening position as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was spook the sister. He needed her; she was his one connection to Dawson.
Mayhem’s King: Operation Mayhem Page 3