End Game (Games Thriller Series)

by J. E. Taylor

  “Ah. Yeah, the game was great and Eric’s in the finals next weekend.” He laughed a little. “The timing worked out.” He nodded and inhaled. “I’m calling because we need you to do us a favor.” He half smiled. “No, not that kind of favor. Just let us know if you happen to see anyone you don’t know hanging around the house.” He kept eye contact with Jessica. “And call if there’s any trouble.” His smile faltered.

  “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. How well do you know him?” He sighed and closed his eyes. “Just be careful, okay?” He nodded. “We’ll see you Thursday. Bye.” He hung up the phone and looked at Jessica. “She has company and he might be staying with her for a few days.” He took a deep breath. “Perhaps I should pay them a visit.”

  “Don’t you dare. She’s a big girl.”

  Chris looked at his wife-to-be. “I am so glad we didn’t have a girl.”

  Jessica laughed aloud. “Truthfully, so am I. That would have been an absolute nightmare.”

  Chris pouted. “It wouldn’t have been that bad.”

  “Yes babe, it would have.” Jessica walked over and gave him a peck on the lips, running her fingers over his chest.

  Heat tingled through his sweater where her fingertips trailed. He looked down at her hand and then slowly moved his eyes up to hers, a smile playing on his lips. “Perhaps,” he conceded and pulled her against him, his lips finding hers and his libido kicking into high gear.

  “No perhaps about it, you know I’m right,” she said when the kiss broke.

  Hunger ravaged him and his hands wandered in opposite directions, one digging into her hair and the other grazing down her back until he cupped her ass. The sweet taste of her strawberry lip-gloss fed his appetite and he swept her off her feet, vaulting up the stairs into their bedroom.

  He set her down and stepped back with a playful smile. He tilted his head and her clothes shredded, flying off her body in different directions.

  Jessica let out a surprised laugh, looking at the ruined clothes spread out like the aftermath of a bomb.

  Chris’s grin got wider and he scanned her naked body. “You are one fine-looking woman.” He pulled off his sweater and threw it aside.

  “Not fair,” Jessica said and was rewarded with the sound of ripping cloth as his clothing succumbed to the same fate.

  He stepped out of the pile toward her. “Better?”

  She nodded and he took her in his arms, dropping to the floor where they stood, the need to slide his throbbing cock inside her overpowering everything else. Urgency overriding comfort, they made frantic, urgent love on the floor.

  “There’s nothing like a death threat to get the blood flowing, now is there?” he said as they lay spent and staring at the ceiling next to each other.

  “Shut up,” Jessica laughed.

  “Why don’t you make me?” He looked over at her.

  She reached over and covered his mouth with her hand.

  He laughed and pushed her arm away. “That’s not what I had in mind.”

  “I know. But it’s gonna have to do for now.”

  “Party pooper,” he said and sat up, surveying the mess he made.

  Jessica sat up and did the same. “You couldn’t have waited a couple seconds longer for me to take off my clothes?”

  He grinned at her and offered a shrug.

  “That was one of my favorite shirts.” She pointed at the clothing carnage.

  “You can buy another one.”

  “I’ve had that for years, I won’t be able to find another one like it.”

  “Then I’ll have one made for you.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “It’s going to be a really long week, isn’t it?”

  He nodded and sighed. “Yes.” He stood, helping her up as well.

  New clothes came out of the drawers and they dressed in silence, each lost in what the week might bring.

  “I’ll clean this up,” Chris said and zipped up his jeans.

  “Good, because I wasn’t planning on it,” she said and left him to clean up the shredded fabric.

  Chapter 19

  Just like their last days in the complex, Chris could hear the ticking in the back of his head, the sands of time running out. Tense didn’t begin to describe his mood over the next two days. Every ring of the doorbell, every strange car, every ring of the studio buzzer grated on his nerves to the point he wouldn’t let her out of his sight except when he conducted his karate classes and even then, every second he couldn’t see her put him on edge.

  Two days had come and gone since Tom’s call and he stood in the office waiting for Jessica to switch into her sweats. The ‘Closed’ sign now hung on the front door and he inhaled, his eyes passing over the sleeping boys and back to the bathroom door.

  Tomorrow night we’ll be in New York.

  “Chris, you need to relax,” Jessica said as she stepped out of the bathroom.

  He sent her a strained smile and leaned over to pick up the boys. Before he could gather them in his arms, the door buzzer rang. Adrenaline rushed through his veins and he exchanged a glance with Jessica.

  “Stay here,” he whispered the command, scanning the thoughts of the intruder in their lobby. It wasn’t a student and he turned, putting a disarming smile on his face and stepped in full view of the stranger. “I’m sorry, but we’re closed.”

  The first in a long line of assassins stood with a gun pointing at him, expecting his demeanor to change, expecting him to crumble under the threat of bodily injury. It was laughable, especially given the hell he endured at the hands of his stepbrother and he chuckled. “You don’t want to even think about that, dude.”

  “Black belt versus a gun, I’ll take my chances.” The intruder smiled, his finger tightening on the trigger.

  Chris tilted his head. “It has nothing to do with being a black belt,” he said and willed the man to move the gun to his own temple.

  His eyes widened, dropping to the gun in his hand, watching the progression until it pressed against the skin of his forehead. Shakes wobbled the barrel and the intruder snapped his terrified gaze from the gun to Chris. “Who are you?”

  “Your worst fucking nightmare,” Chris answered. “Now, tell me everything and I may let you walk out of here alive.” He crossed his arms, waiting.

  The clasp of the office door reached his ears. “Jessie, get your ass back in that room,” Chris commanded.

  “Don’t kill him.”

  Chris didn’t respond. “Get back there with the boys,” he said without breaking eye contact with the man who was sent to kill her. “Now,” he growled and heard the office door close behind him.

  “What’s your name?” he directed at the intruder.

  “Fuck you.”

  Chris raised his eyebrow and the man’s finger tightened on the trigger. “Let’s try that again. What is your name?”

  “John.” Sweat drizzled down the sides of his face, his gaze bouncing between his trigger finger and Chris.

  “Who sent you?”

  “Her ex.”

  “Wrong answer. Her ex called to give me a heads up.” He pursed his lips and crossed his arms. “Now John, unless you want that gun to go off, I suggest you tell me who sent you?”

  “I got a text from Tom Whitman,” he said.

  “Show me.” He allowed him to pull the phone out of his pocket with his spare hand, the gun still pressed firmly to his forehead. He snatched it out of his hand and flipped it open; scrolling down the list of texts until he got to the one ordering Jessica’s hit and he recognized the number. He raised his eyes to the assassin. “Was that all the instruction you got?”

  “Ye...

  “Be very careful how you answer that because I can tell if you’re lying to me.”

  He gulped and opened his mouth a few times before his gaze landed on the gun. “No. I got a phone call too.”

  “And the phone call wasn’t from Tom, now was it?”

  A shake of the head answered the question.
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  “Who was on the phone?”

  “Sharon Whitman.”

  “That a boy, think you can handle another question?” Chris raised his eyebrows, toying with the hit man.

  A shaky nod answered him.

  ”What exactly did she tell you to do?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Sure you can. Or you’ll die just like that.” Chris snapped his fingers. “What’s she worth?” He changed the subject pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

  “A million dollars.”

  Chris laughed. “What’s your life worth?”

  “Fuck you,” John said but with less conviction than the first time.

  “You know, my patience is wearing a bit thin right now.” He waved at his surroundings and stared John down. “You come into my dojo with the intent to do harm to my family, what would you do in my shoes?”

  John swallowed and shrugged.

  “Tell me what your instructions are?”

  “You’re out of your fucking mind.”

  Chris bit his lip and willed the gun from John’s forehead, down to his crotch. The barrel pointing at an angle that would blast both his dick and his balls clean off. “Tell me what I want to know or I’ll make sure you die a slow, painful death.”

  Tears filled John’s eyes and a small dark stain spread over the front of his jeans. Words tumbled out, blending together in a frantic tone as if the imparting of information would somehow save his life. “Sharon wants her dead along with anyone I found with her.”

  “You would have killed my children?”

  John flinched and his gaze shot between the gun and Chris, his eyes betraying him.

  A rumbling growl formed in Chris’s chest and the power coiled inside, building, seething, and ready to strike but it was her voice in his head that erased the red aura of fury from his vision. Calm down, babe. He drew a deep breath and took a step forward pointing at John. “You are a lucky son of a bitch,” he said with clenched teeth. “Because I’m going to let you go. But if you so much as step foot in the state of Maine again, I’ll know, and I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

  He willed John to put the gun on the ground in front of him and step back. John did as Chris silently commanded. “And you are going to do me a little favor. On Friday night at seven o’clock on the dot, you will call Sharon and you tell her she just unleashed Ty Aris and he’s coming after her. Understand?”

  John nodded and shivered, his eyes darting between his escape route and Chris.

  “Now repeat what you’re going to do.”

  With a shaky voice, John reiterated Chris’s demand.

  “Good boy. Now get the hell out of here.” Chris pointed at the door and it swung open at the precise moment he let up on the mental hold. John bolted in an exit worthy of a cartoon. Gravel and smoke filled the parking lot and his car careened onto the road at break-neck speed.

  Chris smirked. That kid won’t ever set foot in Maine again. He turned to see Jessica peering out of the office door. “That ought to slide through the grapevine pretty quickly.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A million dollars is not enough for most professional assassins to walk into the lion’s den with a useless weapon.” Which meant only someone seriously deranged would try to kill Jessica once word got out.

  He picked up the gun and walked back to the office, dropping it into the duffle bag. His heart thundered in his chest and he clamped his teeth together as both anger and fear threaded his veins. “I guess she did make that call.” Why can’t I take the bitch out?

  “Because, it’s still wrong.”

  Chris laughed and glared at her. “And giving the order to kill my entire family isn’t wrong?” Without waiting for an answer, he zipped the duffel bag and tossed it to her before grabbing a sleeping child in each arm. She followed close behind him and slipped into the passenger seat while he strapped the kids into their car seats.

  With a glance over his shoulder, the lights in the studio shut off and the locks on the doors flipped closed. He sat in the driver’s seat and took a deep breath, turning the ignition key and shifting the car into reverse. He pulled out without saying a word, catching a glimpse of a tail in the rearview mirror.

  “Where are you going?” Jessica gaped when he took a turn he normally wouldn’t take.

  “We’ve got company.” He pulled to the side and stepped out of the car, moving to the center of the road away from the open driver’s-side door. Bright lights blinded him and the car stopped less than a hundred yards away. The rev of the engine turned the molten fury in Chris to a churning boil waiting to be unchained. The squeal of tires as the car lurched toward him set off the eruption.

  Power honed over the last five years leaped out of Chris and the car blew to pieces, the explosion echoing on the glass surrounding them and the pieces evaporating to dust before they hit the ground. All down the street, lights flipped on and Chris jumped into the driver’s seat, peeling out before anyone could ID the car.

  Jessica’s wide, stark stare caught his glance and he shook his head, returning his gaze back to the road. The boys mumbled and fell back into the stupor of sleep.

  “Chris?”

  “Jessie, don’t you dare judge me right now.”

  “But...”

  “But what? You heard what they were thinking just as clearly as I did.” He sent a glare in her direction.

  She nodded and turned her gaze to their surroundings. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to get Emily.”

  Her head snapped back in his direction. “Oh God, you think...”

  He glanced at her and nodded. “That’s where I would have gone.”

  * * * *

  Jessica shivered at his deadly gaze as much as his words and the horror of what he did to the car following them dissipated. He was right, she had heard their murderous thoughts, but killing still wasn’t the answer and yet he did so without qualms.

  “Damn straight I did,” he said and shut off the headlights. “And I’ll do it again if I have to.” He turned off the car and let it coast down the hill into the driveway and set the emergency break.

  “Chris.”

  He met her gaze. “What do you want me to do, Jess? Disarm them so they can come after us again? I’m not taking that chance with their lives.” He hooked his thumb toward the backseat. “Sharon’s instructions were to kill you and anyone with you. Anyone.”

  “They wouldn’t...”

  “Yes they would.” He turned to the back seat and stared into his son’s wide eyes. “CJ, make sure no one gets in this car but me and Emily.” When CJ nodded, he swiveled back to her. “Stay here with them, understand?”

  Jessica nodded and Chris hopped out and closed the door as quietly as he could. She tried to swallow but fear left her mouth dry as a convection oven and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Scraping it off with sheer will, she glanced back at her four-year-old son. His expression matched his father’s and the protective energy radiated off him in powerful waves. The only one getting near the car was his father; anyone else was toast, literally.

  “Baby, you don’t need to do that,” she said to CJ.

  “Yes I do. Daddy said so.” He looked at her. “Daddy said I had to protect you and Tommy while he went to get Emily.” He looked at the house. “And she isn’t alone.”

  Jessica’s eyes went wide and she turned toward the house, reaching for the door handle. It didn’t budge and she looked back at CJ. “Let me out.”

  “No, Mommy.”

  * * * *

  Chris closed the door silently behind him. Emily’s fear tickled his mind, he scanned the house from the shadows, homing in on her whereabouts in the living room, and he stepped to his right for a better view.

  A man paced in front of the chair she was sitting in with a gun in his hand. Chris took another step right into her line of sight and her eyes flashed recognition and then looked toward the kitchen. More than one. Jesus, th
at bitch worked fast.

  He cleared his throat and the gun swung in his direction. The man never got all the way around before he turned to dust.

  Chris took a step in the room and his gaze landed on a man lying in a tacky puddle of blood. He looked up at Emily and another tear roll down her cheek.

  Bill died trying to protect me.

  Chris closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them, looking toward the kitchen and then back at Emily. She nodded. He hooked his thumb toward the bedroom and she shook her head. There’s only one more.

  “Yo!” he called and the man poked his head into the room and in a repeat performance, Chris vaporized him. “Dust, baby,” he said and turned to Emily, untying her and ignoring her wide, frightened eyes. “Get your things; you’re coming with us.”

  Chris followed Emily to the bedroom and stood in the doorway, scanning the room and sighing. The last time he set foot in this room was the day he and Jessica sent Frank’s ghost back to hell. He nearly lost everything that day and he shifted his weight, glancing away from the nightmare memories toward the door while Emily threw a bunch of clothing and accessories into a suitcase.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get here in time.”

  “I’m sure Bill is, too.”

  Her voice hitched in her throat enough for him to turn back to her. He realized it wasn’t just her hands that were shaking and he stepped into the bedroom, crossing to her and took over packing while she leaned on the end of the bed, letting the sobs leak from her chest. He closed the suitcase and gently took her elbow, leading her out of the bedroom.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To my place in the city. You’ll be safe there until after the wedding and premiere.”

  Emily gasped and stared at him, her jaw falling a few inches.

  “Yes, I’m marrying your mother and yes we are going to the premiere. That’s the only way to stop this madness.”

  “Why do they want my mother?”

  Chris sighed. “It’s a long story, but nothing is going to touch this family.”