Contents
Title Page
Copyright
1: Jax
2: Mia
3: Jax
4: Mia
5: Jax
6: Mia
7: Jax
8: Mia
9: Jax
10: Mia
11: Jax
12: Mia
13: Jax
14: Mia
15: Jax
16: Mia
17: Jax
18: Mia
19: Jax
20: Mia
21: Jax
22: Mia
What's Next - Amazon
The Vigilante’s Lover
Volume 3
By Annie Winters and Tony West
www.anniewinters.com
www.tonywestwrites.com
Join their mailing list
for new releases and freebies at
AnnieWinters.com
Summary:
A small-town girl teams up with the Vigilante spy who kidnapped her.
Copyright © 2015 by Annie Winters and Tony West. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
Casey Shay Press
PO Box 160116
Austin, TX 78716
www.caseyshaypress.com
E-ISBN: 9781938150401
Also available in paperback: ISBN: 9781938150142
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015932791
eBook version 1
1: Jax
The explosion rocks the house and my first thought — and hopefully not my last — is Mia. She’s going to panic.
The reverberations continue as the house shudders, wood splintering, chaos raining down.
But I’m glad I caught my mistake in time to get behind a steel door. This building is full of them, being a safe house.
But I’m still seething at Klaus and Jovana.
The knot was a trick.
It wasn’t a blood knot. The trigger was made of completely different ropes. It took my adjusting the tension to notice the trick, and by then the coils had already released.
Very clever, Klaus.
I clutch the handle on the reinforced door, glad I was familiar with the safe house and its protected spaces. I go over the bomb’s working again in my mind. What had they wanted to happen? Mia to die? Me? Both? Then why the smaller bombs on the way in?
They hadn’t wanted me to escape. Maybe they thought Mia and I would work on this one together, and they would get us both. Mia had tied Klaus up. They knew she was well versed in knots.
To do it alone, I had to clutch the two ends of rope together, my hand serving the role of the fake coils. The barest perceptible click from the other side of the door told me the bomb had been tripped. I knew that if I let go, the sudden loss of tension would set it off immediately. Pulling the ropes too far from the door would do the same.
Still, I couldn’t just tie the two ropes back together. There was no telling what was attached to the lower line, and I dared not test the amount of free slack I had left in the top line. I also couldn’t stay by the bedroom door forever.
What saved me was realizing that I needed something to replace my hand. To hold the tension long enough for me to get away.
I looked around at the hall. Nothing was within reach, except what I had on me. But that included a shoe.
Carefully I shucked one of them off and weighed it in my free hand. On its own I feared it was too light, but with its mate I knew it just might be enough. I lifted my leg, removed the other shoe, then tied them together. It would have to do.
My question was, as I held that weighted string in my hand, waiting for the bomb — was the reinforced room at the end of the hall strong enough to survive the force of the explosion?
I’m still waiting on that. More debris rains down. I push on the side of the closet and feel it give. The connecting wall has probably collapsed. I’m safe here for the moment, so I wait a little longer for the house to settle. It won’t help to survive the blast just to have the roof collapse on top of me when I try to leave.
It was a good bomb, probably the best I’ve seen Klaus do, since he’s not an ammunitions man. If I’d misjudged Klaus’s handiwork, it would have gone off almost immediately. But I was right, and I bought myself a few precious seconds as the weight of the shoes kept the line taut.
When I let go of the line, I didn’t wait to see the results and instead raced down the hall to the linen closet. I yanked the door open just as Mia’s voice started bellowing from the camera in my pocket. I had no time to answer. I shoved myself inside.
I almost didn’t get the door closed in time.
I felt the explosion through the floor a fraction of a second before I heard it. A blast of heat and force pushed its way through the gap in the door as I slammed it closed. Even inside the reinforced walls the sound was deafening. The walls shuddered and vibrated with the impact and I was flung back. I felt the crack of my video cam as I hit the wall, and Mia’s voice ceased.
Now that the worst of the crisis is over, I pull the video chat device out to examine the damage. The little screen is cracked and black. I push the buttons but get nothing. It’s completely inoperable. Mia will panic and run toward me. I know it.
And there are five working land mines still out in the field. I only disarmed one on the way in.
The urgency to get out obliterates everything else.
Don’t come toward me, Mia, I silently insist.
Wait by the car. Wait by the car.
I press my hands to the door. The metal panel is slightly bowed but otherwise intact. I wrench it open and peer out. Where Mia’s room had been is nothing but a gaping hole looking out into the front yard. The hallway is scorched and filled with debris. Parts of the walls are missing. Bits of roofing and insulation hang down like old party decorations. The windows have been blown out.
I can’t see out the back. Enough of the walls are standing that the fields and the car where Mia waits aren’t visible from my viewpoint.
Surely she’ll wait by the car. Surely.
I take a tentative step out, making sure the floor is sound, then push through the mess to find a way out.
Then I hear it.
An explosion outside.
The land mines.
“Mia!” I shout, and crash through the debris.
2: Mia
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
I have to get to the house. Jax is hurt. Maybe dead.
Oh God.
The round hay bale that hit the land mine is still partially intact. I think I can make it roll again. If I keep pushing it ahead of me and letting it set off the bombs, maybe I can get to the house. And Jax.
He could be dying in there. I picture his body on the floor. His face contorted in pain.
I have to get inside.
I push the tattered remains of the hay bale ahead of me. Now that I’ve seen how much explosive power the land mine has, I’m less afraid. If I can just get this bundle close to the next bale, I’ll be halfway to the house.
The hay is a lot harder to roll now that it’s less round, but it’s also half the weight. I shove it hard, keeping it a little ahead of me. I reach a small dip in the field, and another big push sends it straight for the next one.
Then it blows again.
; Damn it. There’s too much distance between where it went off and the next hay bale. I can’t go any farther. The next land mine could be in my path.
I stare at the house, so afraid for Jax that I want to collapse to the ground. The side wall has caved in, and part of the roof has blown on top of the rest. I know the front must have fared even worse than the back, since he was outside my bedroom and it looked out on the road.
The temptation to run is so bad, so bad. I snatch the video cam from my pajama-top pocket. I push the button again and again to call him.
Still nothing but static.
If it was destroyed, how could Jax have possibly survived? He was holding it.
I’m so stuck. I can’t walk any closer to the house.
I can go back to the car, but then what? Roll Jax’s Aston Martin ahead of me to let it take the bombs?
Maybe.
I try to picture Jax walking to the house. What spots did he avoid? Did he zigzag as he avoided the mines? He bent down at one point, probably looking at one. If only he had two of whatever gadget told him where they were. I could use it now.
Maybe I should just go back to the car. Call for help. The fire department. He’ll need medical attention anyway. Maybe we can lie about who he is, and the Vigilantes won’t catch him.
I’ve never been in any situation like this.
Think, Mia. Don’t panic.
Then I see it.
The back door. It moves.
At first it just shifts a little. Then it falls flat onto the back porch.
And I see him.
Jax.
He’s not dead!
I almost run forward, then halt. The mines.
“Jax!” I cry out. “You made it!”
He holds out his arms as if to say, “Of course I did.”
Jax walks with certainty toward me. He’s not scanning anything. Has he forgotten?
“Jax! The land mines!”
“I remember!” he calls out. He steps to the left, and I realize he has their position in his head. He somehow knows exactly where they are from when he scanned them before.
I am in awe of him. I don’t know if I can ever be that good. It’s my own field, and still, I couldn’t remember the direction that he walked or what part he avoided on the way in.
But he does.
He pauses by the wreckage of the hay bale. “That was incredibly clever,” he says.
“What, destroying the hay?”
“Yes. Brilliant idea.”
“It didn’t get me to the house.”
He looks back at it. “Your home is destroyed.”
“Won’t the fire department be here soon? We should go.”
His eyes search mine. “It’s your home.”
I look across the field. “Not anymore.”
“There isn’t anything you want from it?”
I think of the photos of my parents. My aunt’s silver bells. Where would I put them if I took them?
“You have your phone?” I ask him. “Does it work? The video stopped.”
He pulls the video cam from his pocket. “This is broken, but I have other things in the car.”
I turn away from the smoking remains of my aunt’s house. “I’m going to call my neighbor and tell her I’m all right. She’ll pick up the few mementos that matter to me.”
Jax nods. His face is streaked with ash and his impeccable suit shirt and gray pants are frayed and covered in soot. His shoes are missing. But he looks amazing.
“Let’s get out of here before law enforcement shows,” he says. “No doubt they’ve been called by now.” He passes me his bag, which has seen better days, dirty and torn. “We’ll have our land mine lesson later. Right now I’m going to disarm the last ones so no firefighters come across them.”
“Klaus would have let innocent people get hurt by them?”
A dark expression crosses his face. “Not the Klaus I knew. But now?” His voice trails off.
He strides back into the field. I hug his bag to my chest, smelling smoke and charred wood coming from it. I know Jax is upset about his friend. Someone he once trusted is now his absolute worst enemy.
3: Jax
Mia looks exhausted as we drive toward Nashville. She called her neighbor, who tried to insist Mia come over and stay with her. Mia managed to convince her she was already gone but would come back someday.
She’s mine now. I feel responsible for what happened. I wrote the letters to the safe house and didn’t recognize what was really going on with the garbled replies.
I came, and I brought the danger to her.
Twice the Vigilantes have almost killed her.
I can’t let that happen.
She watches the trees pass by outside the window, lost in thought. I wonder what is going on inside her head. Regrets over what she’s been through since she met me?
Her chin is high, strong even with all this terror. Something in my chest turns a little. She’s brave. Tougher than I gave her credit for that first night.
I’m disgusted by my own network. I don’t know what is going on for them to decide to destroy her house. Vigilantes are not heroes by any means, but we are law enforcers in our own right. We just no longer trust the civilian system of police, judges, and justice that goes to the highest bidder.
We use vastly advanced technology and financial resources to find the truth in ways that aren’t practical or legal. And our retribution is swift and final.
But Mia is an innocent woman. And they are allowing her to get caught in the crossfire. My crossfire.
I send an encrypted message to Sam about the whereabouts of the Vigilante car I stole from the idiot who tried to take me down in Albuquerque. Having a vehicle like that will be a bonus for Sam to play with. He can break it down and build it back up into an amazing machine.
I feel confident in my own Aston Martin. This car is completely off grid and always has been, one of the perks of being a director of a silo, like I once was.
Before I killed a Vigilante.
Before I believed that damn woman.
Jovana’s going to have the surprise of her life when she sees me at her brother’s fight in Nashville. Klaus too.
They aren’t going to know what hit them.
But first, we have to get clothes, food, rest. We have two days to kill until then. We’ve been way beyond the basics for days, and Mia isn’t used to this lifestyle. I kept her up half the night.
I glance at her again as I think about the motel. She has hay stuck to her pajamas from the explosions. I’ve put her through the wringer, that’s for certain.
I don’t know what she’s feeling about what happened. She’s bound to be sore in places she didn’t know existed. Probably I should have stayed away from her.
But some things you just can’t help.
She’s barely keeping her eyes open as we glide along the highway. Once we get to Nashville, I’ll bring this down a notch, give us some quiet time. Maybe I can learn more about her, figure out what in her history would bring out these opposites in the Vigilantes, both naming her a special and allowing Jovana to destroy her home.
We’ll be flying blind. I have to stay off grid. And I can’t check into any of my usual places due to the kill order. But there are plenty of fine hotels in Nashville. My funds are well hidden. The Vigilantes can only seize what they know about. We’re expected to funnel money all over the world.
I punch the search function on the dash. I admire for a moment the elegant controls in polished steel with inlaid teak. My car. I can’t believe I have it back.
“Five-star hotel in Nashville,” I tell it.
A list pops up and I choose one I’ve never been to before. There won’t be a back entrance or my usual amenities. But it’s a definite improvement over a barn and a seedy motel.
I think of the leisurely evening I can spend with Mia and my groin tightens. I book a room and tap in a request for top floor only. I select every VIP option that exists and a time of arrival. T
o keep them guessing, I list an assumed name with the word Viscount in front.
Even though it is midafternoon, Mia falls asleep, her arms and head draped over the center console. Her golden brown hair falls across her face. I catch myself about to move it, and pull back. It’s one thing to keep her now, but I’m not going to be so foolish as to get emotional about it.
Emotion is what got me here.
Besides, eventually I will have to turn her over to the Vigilantes, so they will stop putting her in danger trying to get to me. I’ll tell them I kidnapped her again. Whatever I have to say.
Maybe if I can clear my name, get to the endgame of whatever plot is unfolding, I can find my way back to her. But once I get to Jovana and Klaus again, I have to let her go. Get her out of harm’s way.
But not tonight.
Screw it. I finger the loose bit of hair and slip it behind her ear. Her cheek is soft, her expression relaxed. I’ll set up some spa treatment for her to get past the shock of these days. I’ll watch each delicious moment as she gets a full body massage.
I tap the dash screen again and bring up Armond. It takes a few moments for the circuitous encryption to make its way to him. His bald head and bushy brows are a welcoming sight.
“You’re still with us,” he says. “I hear there’s trouble afoot. Did you find your lady?”
I lay a hand on Mia’s head. He looks down and sees her.
“Wearing them out as usual,” he says, then nods knowingly when I glare at him. “Ah, you care what this little dove thinks of you.”
“They blew up her house. She’s got nothing to wear. Not even a hairbrush. What can you do for her?”
Armond’s hands come up, his fingertips to his chin. “Now that is a tragedy. But we shall rebuild her from scratch. How much time?”
“We can rendezvous somewhere mid-Tennessee.”
The Vigilante's Lover III Page 1